Mass Effect: Of Lions And Angels
by jerseydanielgibson
Summary: Jane Catherine Shepard and Sara Elaine Ryder, the spacer brat and the Cit-born, the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria, lifelong friends and almost-sisters, find themselves mired in events concerning ProTech and a diabolical scheme. Can a SPECTRE and a Corpsman along with an eclectic crew stop a Turians' plan that may rattle the very galaxy itself? (ME AU, major changes)
1. Dig Site Alpha, I

_BioWare; killing things with swords, lightsabers, and guns since 1995._

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, May 24, 2183**

Author's Note: Happy Birthday, Sara and Scott Ryder. (March 7, one-year anniversary of Andromeda)

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder felt every bump and knock on the drive from Nova Yekaterinburg to the dig site known as Alpha near the north pole of Therum as she tried to ignore how hot it was inside the M29 GRZLY All-Terrain Armored Transport Vehicle despite the air conditioner going at full blast. Her Systems Alliance Navy-Issue Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Medic Armor was supposedly suppose to help with such environmental concerns such as heat and cold, but Sara could feel the sweat in her armpits and under the band of her sports bra from the heat. To say that Therum was hot was an understatement; even at night, it was hotter than the hottest place on Earth, and daytime excursions were strongly discouraged. According to an internal temperature gauge, the inside of the APC was at a balmy one-hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit/forty-three degrees Celsius. The same gauge read the outside temperature as well; sixty-four degrees Celsius, or about a hundred and fifty Fahrenheit. That kind of heat would kill a man in an hour if he didn't have water, and exposure would kill him in four if he did, unable to hydrate fast enough.

Therum. What a shithole.

Sara looked over to the Marine Corporal who was driving the GRZLY, one Corporal Kyle Stannis, who looked like he was soaked to the skin as if he just stepped out of the shower or a pool by the way beads of sweat glistened on his skin. He had talked on and off for the past two hours, normal chit-chat concerning facts about Therum and the Marine unit that she was to be assigned to. As a Navy Hospital Corpsman with the Fleet Marine Force, Chief Ryder was to be assigned to a combat unit to be their medical specialist. She had the primary rating of HM 8404, along with two other designations; advanced emergency trauma care, and surgeon's assistant. While that looked good on her Enlisted Record Brief, what that really meant was that Sara had training and experience in keeping men and women alive even through some of the most ghastly of injuries, hosting the same capabilities as an Emergency Room Nurse, an Emergency Medical Technician, and even able to do some emergency surgical procedures if warranted. Ever since Illyeria, Sara knew what she wanted to do with her life, and she had taken any and every step possible in order for her not only to be proficient, but one of the best there could be. Who amongst Humanity could claim to be a Citadel Paramedic, after all?

"This your first platoon?" Corporal Kyle Stannis asked, still up for the friendly chit-chat. Most in the Systems Alliance Marine Corps saw only two kinds of people; Marines, and useless motherfuckers taking away their oxygen. Marines were hammered since Boot that they were the righteous sword and shield of Earth and Humanity, its guardian and protector, its vengeance and wrath. To them, the Alliance Navy were bus drivers, Colonial Army wannabes, and the Colonial Air Force sissies. When shit got hot and messy, Marines knew who would be sent in to make the motherfucker regret ever stepping on Humanity's toes, and the men and women of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps took that kind of shit very seriously, living and breathing their motto, _Semper Fidelis_. While a Marine may look at anyone and everyone else as a lower life form, they did hold a few exceptions for certain professions. Navy Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, known as the Hellfighters, were certainly one of them. Marines boarded ships and landed planetside in shuttles. Hellfighters were fired from missilepods in drop pods known as 'Navy Coffins' and went directly to the action in a silver bullet fired from space. Marines gave a healthy amount of respect to the Navy Search and Rescue team, retrieval specialists who would go behind enemy lines during combat to pull men and women out of space. NSAR rescued the stranded from the black while getting shot at, giving men and women a second chance not only to live, but to get back in the fight. There were the SpecOps Warriors known as N Special Forces, whom Marines practically worshiped, many hoping to be selected for the chance to go to Villa Militar in Rio. N's were the very word in lethality and success, and any Marine who thought themselves a tough motherfucker wanted the chance to be one. And all Marines thought themselves tough motherfuckers.

And then there were the Corpsmen, like herself.

Hospital Corpsmen were the basic medical specialist of the Alliance Navy, hosting many jobs and professions as needed to serve not only throughout the Navy, but in many posts and positions throughout the Systems Alliance Government. They ran dispensaries for Sailors with minor injuries and illnesses. One could find them in military hospitals and clinics, acting as nurses and assistants. They could be medical technicians, medical administrators, running Humanitarian aid, giving inoculations. The HM 8404 profession was one of the most venerated and honorable professions in the Navy, harkening back to the days of water Navy in the great World Wars. There were many kind of Corpsmen who filled in the needed positions, and was one of the largest rates in the Navy, its position seen everywhere, from ships to outposts to stations. The joke was that if there were more than five Sailors, four would watch a screen and one would be keeping them alive to do their job.

But there was another form of Corpsman that existed, one above even that. The FMF Corpsman, simply known as the Marine Corpsman.

The Systems Alliance Marine Corps did not have medics like the Colonial Army; theirs were borrowed from the Navy. The Fleet Marine Force Corpsman was a volunteer service in which a Navy Corpsman was expected to achieve the same physical standards and knowledge as the Marine Corps. FMF Corpsmen were riflemen, knowledgeable in tactics and movement, physically and mentally tough. Any Corpsman who wanted to join the FMF were tested in three different ways by a committee of Marines and other Corpsman to make sure that the Corpsman-in-question wasn't substandard. They were expected to do whatever a Marine could do, as well as providing medical and trauma care. The FMF training course was eight weeks long, almost as long as Marine Boot itself save they already knew the basics of formations, drills, and the handling of weapons. Marine Drill Instructors made sure that FMF Corpsmen were ready for the rigors of being in the Marines, drilling into them every single hour of every single day for eight weeks straight that ' _these are your Marines; you will look out for them, you will live among them, you will protect them, you will die for them, as they would die for you_ '. The course was utterly punishing, and yet any who passed was awarded the FMFHM Badge, one of the most coveted awards in the Order of the Hospital Corpsman.

Sara had just earned hers last week.

Ryder had been in the Navy since eighteen, joining on her birthday right alongside her twin brother, Scott Michael Ryder. Scott had join the Marines while she had joined the Navy, and the decision had them realizing that it would be the first time they would be truly separated in their entire lives. Scott so wanted to be a Marine Infantryman, to be that sword and shield. Sara wanted to help people, but after Illyeria, she knew she wanted to serve alongside those who fought in Humanity's name. Marines didn't have medics; they drew theirs from the Navy. So she decided to join the Navy to become a Corpsman, passing through Navy Drill with flying colors and entering the Medical Education and Training Campus along with other Navy Hospital Corpsman, Colonial Army Health Care Specialists, and the Colonial Air Force Aerospace Medical Service Specialist in Lowell City on Mars. Sixteen weeks of training and classes had her coming as a rate of Seaman Apprentice with the primary rating of HM 8404. Sara had been so happy to achieve the first part of her dream, her and Scott visiting their ailing mother in their respective Class A Uniforms, Scott a Marine Infantryman while she was a Navy Corpsman. Doctor Ellen Ryder got to see her children succeed before passing away from ANCD due to her research into Biotics in Human beings.

Sara had spent the past two years in Franklin, a starter colony that was protected by a small Naval detachment that was deployed in-system. She knew that she would have to wait almost two years before she could try to volunteer for the Fleet Marine Force, a requirement to make sure that said volunteer didn't get cold feet and had the necessary experience and training on their side. Her job in the small defense fleet was to aid in dispensary operations, helping run the medical clinic aboard a two-hundred man Corvette along with five other Corpsmen. Her job, seven days a week, was to listen to Sailors whine about whatever illnesses or minor injuries they had, keeping inventory of supplies and pharmaceuticals in the dispensary, updating logs and records of the men and women on the SSV _Charger_ , and keeping the clinic clean. She was the lowest man on the totem pole, so to speak, so she drew all the best details and duties that none of the higher-ranking Corpsmen wanted to do; cleaning, restocking, checking hypochondriac Sailors, and inventory. During her off-time, whenever her twelve-hour shift was over, Sara would working upon herself to train for her dream.

Ryder studied every manual relating to trauma care and emergency care. She did physical training with the Corvette's detachment of Marines, and was even allowed to join them on the vessel's small arms firing range. The detachment didn't have a Corpsman assigned to them, drawing from one of the Corvettes' Corpsman when necessary, and Staff Sergeant John Brennan, the Marines' Commanding Officer, put in the request that Seaman Apprentice Sara Ryder be the go-to Corpsman whenever the Marines were called to the Corvette's Commanding Officer, Captain Sarah Olivier when Sara not only asked him for the honor, but proved to him that she was willing to do it. In eighteen months, the Marines were called for over a dozen times on various missions and calls, and Sara was with them every single time. She wore the same armor as the Marines, carried the same weapons, and walked over the same ground. They never called her Sailor, Seaman, or anything else, proper or derogatory. She was Doc, plain and simple. When one of the Marines got hurt during PT or doing something stupid, they went to Doc, not one of the other Corpsmen (who weren't Doc in the Marines' mind). They trusted her, saw her as one of them, and Sara knew she was heading right towards where she wanted to be.

One day, during an EVA training exercise where the Marines were performing a Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure exercise on a pre-FCW spacecraft. Ryder had been along for the training exercise with the Marines, expected to follow the Marines' code of being a rifleman above all else, performing the exercise alongside 'her Marines'. An unfortunate but unavoidable incident during the breech had a piece of shrapnel pierce through Staff Sergeant John Brennan's suit while in space, compromising his suits' seal and potentially exposing him to the lethal environment of outer space while venting atmo. At the first words of ' _suit breech!_ ', Sara went to work. She had a Marine toss her weightlessly towards Staff Sergeant Brennen while another caught her, and she immediately assessed the problem. Ryder discovered that Brennen's airhose had been pierced to a degree beyond salvage, unable to even make hasty repairs. So she told him to take a deep breath, sealed the port where his hose connected at, and removed the punctured hose, almost torn in half by the shrapnel. She then connected her secondary hose to his helmet, and performed an emergency lifeline tactic known as ' _Quarian Fucking_ '; where two suited people shared the same air. She then opened the valve to where the Marine could breath her air, and then proceeded to call for a real-world emergency MedEvac, telling the rest of the Marine Platoon to continue with the training exercise as planned, as if it had been a real operation where one got wounded but the mission would still be expected to be performed. Ryder MedEvac'ed Brennen safely into a Navy Shuttle, disengaging her secondary hose from his suit, and then proceeded to join the rest of the Marines for the exercise in case another emergency were to happen, and at the very least offer her assistance as a rifleman. The rest of the exercise went without a hitch and without any other incident.

This got her a Navy Commendation Medal through the Navy. The Marines simply got Doc rip-roaring drunk from their own personal unauthorized stashes, every single one of them 'buying' her a drink. That touched her just as much as the medal did. They were her Marines, and she was their Doc, tested and proven.

When Sara hit her eighteen month mark, she applied for the Fleet Marine Force, and got three letters of recommendation; one from Staff Sergeant Brennen (along with the report where she saved his life), one from the Chief Medical Officer of the Corvette, and one from Captain Olivier. She was approved without issue.

Field Medical Training Battalion was its own special brand of hell. Stationed in Fort Richardson, Alaska, United North American States, it was eight weeks of sadistic Marine Drill Instructors pushing hard on Navy Corpsman. It involved nineteen hour days, eighteen and a half of them intermixed with yelling, screaming, physical training, more yelling, corrective training, more screaming, medical training, firearm ranges, and more push-ups than anyone could bother to count. Half of the recruits washed out, which was the point; the job wasn't for the weak or the part-time wanna-bes. Those who passed earned the Fleet Marine Force Insignia, one of the most coveted badges in the Naval Hospital Corps, and one that Marines everywhere respected. In made a Corpsman 'Doc', simple as that, that crazy motherfucker who would not only jump into a firefight, serving alongside Marines, but would run through the thick of it to extract a wounded Marine, performing emergency care to help save their lives. The day Petty Officer Third Class Sara Ryder earned her Fleet Marine Force Insignia was the happiest in her life. It meant she would be assigned to Marine units, not Navy dispensaries.

She was going to be doing what she wanted to do.

"I was assigned to the _Charger_ before, working alongside the Marine detachment there." Ryder answered Corporal Stannis, the Marine E-4 grunting in acknowledgment. She had said the magic words, _alongside Marines_ , and that was all that mattered to him. Oh, she didn't doubt that Stannis figured Doc had worked in a dispensary, as most Corpsmen did on boats, even the ones assigned to Marine units for a small portion of the day. But Sara knew how the Marine mind work. She didn't jabber about Navy food, Navy bunks, or Navy bullshit. Marines cared about one thing and one thing only; Marines. Combat was life, and the rest of the time was spent prepping and training for it. Anyone else either stayed out of their way or got ran the fuck over. Doc wasn't some _bus driver_ running tic-tacs out of a dispensary to whiny-ass screenwatchers. Doc was Doc; Doc killed people with one hand while putting pressure on your gunshot wound with the other. "First real dirtside deployment."

The unit Sara had been assigned to was officially Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment (1B3/7). As she understood it, they had been detached and deployed to Therum for Site Security for Dig Site Alpha. It meant that there was something there that the Alliance was interested in, and the Admiralty Board sent Marines to guard it and protect it from looters, pirates, smugglers, and anyone else who wanted to get their hands smacked hard. It wasn't a permanent planetside post, as Marines disdained planetside posting, and anyone who was assigned to one. Marines served in space, period. Planetside postings were for Army pussies. Deployments to planets, on the other hand, meant that was where the action was. Marines loved that kind of thing.

Pity Therum was a hellhole where the greatest excitement was watching lavalanches.

"Buddy of mine serves on the _Charger_. Marcus Greer, went to Boot together." Stannis provided, perking up. "Said his Doc Quarian Fucked his CO."

"Hose got cut by shrapnel during an airlock breech on a VBSS." Ryder replied. The Corporal nodded, obviously getting the explanation. A Marines' life had been in danger, and Doc jumped in, simple as that. Working EVA in space was dangerous as hell, as even a simple mistake could kill a man. Lance Corporal Marcus Greer was a name that Ryder was very familiar with, a young Marine who was attached to the _Charger_ , having come in after she started working with the Marines on the vessel. She had always been Doc to him, and like the rest of the twenty-Marine attachment, saw her as one of their own. "Marcus should be getting to go to the Board in the next month or so. He's a damn good Marine." There really wasn't a better compliment for a Marine than to say he was a damn good one. Getting promoted to Corporal was seen as a near-holy accomplishment in the Marine Corps, as the SAMC had set-in-stone expectations for their Non-Commissioned Officers in which they did not budge from. Didn't meet them? A Marine would find themselves stuck as a Terminal Lance, getting out of a three- to six-year enlistment as a Lance Corporal. The minimal term of service for being looked at for a Promotion Board for Corporal was eighteen months, and even then one could expect to wait another four to six months before getting their double stripes, completing post-education classes online to meet the necessary requirements. For all the talk on how 'dumb' Marines could be, the Marine Corps itself had a very well thought-out system in expectations and requirements for its Marines, to include even classes in finances and civilian-equivalent applications to boost a Marines' capabilities and understanding. "Told him I wanted pics of him getting blood-ranked. He's got the makings of a fine Non-Com."

"Share 'em when you get 'em?" Stannis asked, and Sara nodded with a chuckle, knowing that Marines saw themselves as a tight-knit community. It wasn't unusual for a Marine to still be close to a Boot Camp buddy, and even a Marine who was a stranger would be a brother or sister, seen as the kind of person who chose to be an ass-kicking motherfucker as oppose to some ass-kissing pussy ass motherfucker. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination to realize that the old Musketeer motto, all for one and one for all, lived tried-and-true amongst the members of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps. It was that kind of camaraderie that had Scott signing up to be a Marine, and Sara busting her ass to become a Fleet Marine Corpsman. "We're almost there, Doc. I'll take you to go see the CO, and then we can flip you a cot and show you where the grub is."

"How do you cook the food? Set it outside and bake?" Ryder asked, making the Corporal laugh as the GRZLY continued on its course towards Dig Site Alpha.

* * *

The temporary Marine barracks for Dig Site Alpha ended up being the standard pre-fab GP Medium Habitat that was large enough to facilitate a platoon worth of Marines, a small mess hall and galley, an equipment and storage space, a small armory, and reclamation and disposal facilities. It was set up a few hundred meters away from the entrance of the actual Dig Site itself, where more facilities were located for the archaeologists, paleontologists, and xenosociologists worked and lived. Petty Officer Sara Ryder learned that the Dig Site was actually a joint venture between Serrice University, a very high-end Asari University, and Oxford College, where Asari and Humans worked to uncover the past on the species that predated them all, the Protheans.

Of course, all digs had more than just doctors and researchers; manual laborers and workers were required, and the site teamed with over a hundred individuals working in a recently-discovered Prothean facility that was constructed underground, miraculously surviving five eons and very well-preserved. It was the kind of find that had Protheantologists and associated professions giddy at the prospect, as any discoveries made were generally an advancement in technology or understanding of the hyper-advanced race that built Mass Relays and the Citadel. The protection of such a site was paramount, and Sara didn't need much of an explanation. Her father had lived to see what the Mars Archives had done for Humanity, and Humanity itself understood very well what Prothean tech could bring to the table. Just the previous year, a discovered data disk had been decrypted and analyzed to discover Prothean writings that were pre-Imperial, back before the Protheans ruled the galaxy. The findings had been published and had offered incredible insight to the race before the construction of the Citadel, when they only occupied less than a dozen systems, perhaps only their origin cluster. Sara, like many Humans in her generation, held the Protheans in awe and reverence, seeing a race that forged its own destiny in the stars, much like Mankind had down before '57.

"Sir? Petty Officer Sara Ryder, reporting for duty." Sara stood in the office of the Commanding Officer for Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment (1B3/7), saluting the man who sat in the small office of the platoon area.

"Doc." Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson stood up and saluted in return, his hand dropping first as Sara did the same, the protocol finished. The Gunny had been expecting her, the Navy Bureau of Personnel sending him an EN-mail to expect the assignment of a Fleet Marine Corpsman, as well as a date/time to pick them up from Nova Yekaterinburg, the nearest settlement being two hours away by vehicle. "Have a seat." Ryder saw three available folding alumnisteel chairs, and picked the nearest one, moving in front of the desk to simulate a more interview-like scenario. It was standard that the CO of a Marine Platoon to interview everyone who came to their platoon, be it a Lieutenant down to a Private. It would be here that Sara would be told her duties and expectations (though she could guess well what those would be) as well as the current mission and orders (which she could guess those, too). "Got your 'Love Me' files?"

"Right here." Ryder handed over a datapad that had been downloaded with all her essential information; her Enlisted Record Brief that had all the information pertaining to her training, classes, and awards, her performance counseling from previous commands, any awards and accommodations she had earned, and any letter of recommendations she had received. It was called the 'Love Me' files because each Marine (and Sailor) was expected to keep their own personal records updated themselves and have it on hand in case of a system crash or mishandling on the Systems Alliance's part. A Marine (or Sailor) who didn't was seen as unorganized and retarded. Gunny Halverson took the datapad and placed it on an inductive plate that would both charge and connect with the information within as he opened his personal terminal and opened up several fields on his OLED monitor, expanding the windows side-by-side to look at several files simultaneously. Sara didn't doubt that her ERB and awards would be first, followed by her performance evaluations, which would come both from her CMO on the Kyoto as well as Staff Sergeant Brennen of the Kyoto's Marine Detachment. Halverson was beginning to review them when a queer look upon his face suggested that he was seeing something odd. Sara could guess what it was.

"What the hell…?" The Marine looked at her, then at her ERB, and then back at her. "You've got a Gold Ribbon?" The tone of his voice was pure disbelief.

"Aye aye, sir." The Alliance Gold Ribbon was one of the highest awards in the Systems Alliance… but it was only awarded to civilians. It was, in fact, the highest award a civilian could earn, not afforded to its military members. Because of that, it was rarely issued. This wasn't the first time Ryder had gotten that look of confusion when it came to her ERB, both Chief Petty Officer Ramirez, her Chief Medical Officer back on the Charger, and Staff Sergeant Brennen looking at her just as oddly when they noticed it. "The award packet is in there too, sir." An award packet was the paperwork involved to award someone; the recommendation that listed the reasons and actions, the approval paperwork, and the official 'award' as well that came with the aforementioned medal or award. It was, in fact, the first one in her files under 'Awards' on her 'Love Me' files, meant to be read first. "Got it in Elysium." That implied what had happened nine years before.

"Holy shit." The Gunny was reading the award, no doubt. The bullets describing the reasons to award one Sara Elaine Ryder were rather memorable. Not to mention that being awarded the Gold Ribbon meant that said person was awarded by none other than the President of the Systems Alliance, the final approval authority for the award. That meant the President signed off on it… and then placed the award around her neck personally. There were fewer Gold Ribbon awardees than there were Star of Terra winners. Sara still ribbed her Auntie on that one from time to time. "At thirteen?"

"It conveniently leaves out the part where I was living on the Citadel at the time and stowed away on an Alliance military vessel to reach Elysium." Ryder explained, a hint of a smile on her lips. Actually, that part of the story was easy to look up for anyone that wished to do so on the ExtraNet. It was splashed upon every major social media site, news network site, and even an interview done by a major news publishing article back in '76. Pretty much anyone with eyeballs had seen the movie, too. They even had a nickname for her.

"No shit, the Angel of Illyeria." That name was usually synonymous with the Lion of Elysium, and with good reason. She had been awarded alongside the Lion on the very same day, on the very same platform, by the President of the Systems Alliance. Sara had, in fact, saved the Lion's life. People tended to remember such actions. "You mean to tell me I inherited _the_ Angel?" Halverson looked at her in disbelief. He wasn't the first to look at her that way, either. Staff Sergeant Brennen had almost shit a brick when he discovered who had volunteered to work alongside his Marines.

"I don't do anything by half-measures, I guess." Ryder smiled with the answer. Most would take that as boasting, but for her it had always been her way. Once she set her mind towards something, she accomplished it no matter what. She got that from both her mother and her father. Scott was like that, too. A good look at her records would likely prove that to Gunny Halverson as well. Her PT scores had always been exemplary, and her marksman scores had always been ranked at expert, the kind of thing that stood out for Marines. Sara had always been at the top of her class, be it in school, as a CitEMS Paramedic, or in any kind of military training. She was born to succeed, and she busted her ass to ensure she did so. Sara wanted to be the best she could be, and she knew that her number one enemy was herself. Just about anyone on the Kyoto could easily confirm that she had been one of the hardest-working personnel on the Cruiser, working in the dispensary and with the Marine detachment during normal shift, and then physical training and medical re-training during her off-shift. It wasn't unusual to find her walking on a treadmill with her medical deployment bag on her back and a Navy Seabag across her shoulders with a hundred kilograms of weight to simulate carrying a Marine off of a battleground, getting herself into both physical and mental condition to do so. Sara knew that if it were a possibility in combat that she needed to perform some action, then she would train on it during the quiet times so there was no question that she could accomplish it if the time ever came. None of the other Corpsmen on the _Charger_ even came close to her level of performance. Or skill and dedication, honestly. That was one of the main reasons why Staff Sergeant Brennen had made a full recommendation for her to be attached to the Marine Detachment to Captain Olivier. He had seen the commitment, and the Marines had helped groom her into being the FMF Corpsmen she wanted to be. While Doc generally didn't get a nickname, Ryder had earned herself one amongst the Marines of the _Charger_ ; TBG, toughest bitch in the galaxy. It was touching, really.

"Well, you came to the perfect place." Gunny said, smiling with no humor. "Therum is, by far, one of the worst habitable planets the Alliance has to offer. It's a barely solidified lava planet with some survivability in a suit. Injuries here are pretty common, so you'll definitely be working your ass off keeping my Marines fit and healthy. You'll also be responsible for the Dig Site Clinic as well for the workers and researchers there, keeping them fit and healthy, too. For some reason, no one thought to bring an actual medical doctor, a nurse, an EMT, or anything resembling a health care anything. We've been making do with our Combat Aid Training, but that's really for major physical ailments, and we're sadly under trained for figuring out maladies, minor injuries, and supplies for the common everyday boo-boos. Hope Command told you to pack heavy on the meds and supplies, because there's just over a hundred people working Alpha, and a fair amount of them are sporting the common injuries one gets at work zones, construction sites, cave-diving, and working in the dark." Halverson snorted. "One of the nerds was thrilled as hell when he cut his hand on some scaffolding, requesting stitches, and I handed him a roll of Duct Tape and Super Glue."

"I brought a medium-sized supply locker for a platoon, but not for a work site." Sara frowned, wondering why she hadn't be notified of that particular tidbit. Probably got lost in the transfer, somewhere. While running a clinic wasn't exactly thrilling, running a clinic single-handedly was… different. There wouldn't be anyone else to help her out, meaning she would be doing it all on her own. On the other hand, the challenge of it was certainly appealing, and that kind of challenge would get slapped on her records. Doing something like that would probably pave her way to just about any job or position she wanted, even getting a unit recommendation for the kind of things she'd like to do. While she couldn't exactly perform surgery, she could do some emergency surgery, certainly set bones and splints, and keep a man alive and in fairly good shape for an Evac. Work sites would likely be a bunch of stitches, bone setting, meds, and bandaids. But that was part of the gig of being a Corpsman, and dig site workers were a hearty bunch. Caring for them was a lot like caring for the Marines. "I'll definitely need a request sent up for probably two more medical supply lockers and some other items and meds if I'm looking at essentially sustaining three platoons' worth of people in a hazardous work site. Water and living facilities adequate?"

"Barely." Halverson replied with a snort. "The Habitat isn't exactly rated for this kind of environment, so I had the Marines make improvements to better it. Obviously, most of the work gets done at night, and even then I keep it at a reasonable amount of time to keep my boys from sweating to death at midnight. It's a hellhole." Yeah, Ryder got that. "We've got several generators in a daisy chain to ensure that the water stays purified and fresh, and that the A/C keeps working. Trust me, the A/C is the most important thing here."

"Hour tops?" That's what she was guessing as the survivability rate to full environmental exposure on the surface of Therum. The only reason the Alliance colonized the geologically-active planet was that it was rich in heavy metals, like uranium and plutonium, and rare earths, like iridium and platinum.

"If you sit still in the shade, yeah." Gunny wasn't splitting hairs. "We perform twice-a-day maintenance on the genny's and the A/C, just after dusk and just before dawn. Thankfully, one of our boys is a half-time good ole boy mechanic, and I had him train up a few others to make the work faster and in case anything happened to him." That just made sense. "Civvies over in Alpha got the good stuff, of course, and the clinic they're suppose to have is about the size of a broom closet and probably stuffed to the gills with ass and trash. I'll make sure they clean it out and have the A/C working before you set up shop." Ryder merely grunted at that. Wait, the Dig Site was a joint venture between Oxford and…

"How many species?" Damn, no one told her she might be needing to care for non-Humans. Odd. It wasn't like the Alliance Navy was handing out courses on xeno-medicine and trauma care. Thankfully, she had spent three years in the citadel Emergency Medical Services as a volunteer Emergency Medical Technician, working in a Skybulance along with two Asari, three Turians, and a Salarian. Sara might have been the _only_ Corpsman in the Systems Alliance Military with actual experience with health care coverage upon non-Humans, though likely there might be an actual Doctor or two outsourced in certain circumstances.

"Six." Gunny informed her, and Sara swore to herself. Six different species when she didn't even have supplies? Thankfully, while it had been just over two years since she had worked on anything else other than a Human, Sara strongly doubted she forgot anything, or at least the major things. It wouldn't hurt to pick up some literature and get a few practical manual updates from Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, her former Skybulance Crew Chief. Shayla and the others would no doubt get a kick hearing how 'little Sara' was back to patching up non-Humans, the sole member of her species to ever earn her way as a Skybulance Paramedic, mostly out of sheer gall and a willingness to learn. The Asari Senior ECT would probably insist on updates and pics, along with Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis. While she had befriended each member of her eclectic, it had been the Asari Shayla Talis and the Turian female Alixa Trevalis that had given her her chance, teaching her and believing in her.

"What the hell have they been using if they don't have an on-site health care specialist?" The idiocy of it was appalling. Nova Yekaterinburg was at least a two hour drive over rather treacherous terrain that featured landslides, lava pits, and sink holes. While she wasn't exactly aware of the level of care of the clinic there, Ryder knew there to be at least one in No'burg, likely having an actual Medical Doctor on hand, probably even a decently-staffed Emergency Room. But No'Burg was one-hundred percent Human; it was a mining town filled with the bitter and disenfranchised that wouldn't like non-Humans on their turf.

"Us." Halverson grimaced at that. Sara did, too. "Well, there's an Asari who made do a couple of times, but so far stitches have been the worst. No falls, no breaks, and no major injuries. So far." Yeah, they'd gotten lucky at that. Dig sites were notorious for injuries, just like construction sites. "There's two small shuttles that Alpha uses for supply runs and the like that can be used for emergency Evac if needed. Alpha has at least one pilot, Turian, and he seems spot-on." There was no mistaking the Gunny's tone of voice when he said _Turian_. Then again, he did admit that said Turian was capable, so that was something, too. "That's… about it."

"Fanfuckingtastic." Since Therum was an Alliance Colony, established in 2166, the Alliance would responsible for such things as security and medical care for those who visited the planet. Immigrants and visitors was one thing, but a fully-sponsored endeavor featuring accredited individuals with the title 'Doctor' in their name should have had someone pull out the stops and make sure the necessaries were filled. Security was obviously covered with 1B3/7 there, but no medical care? "What happened to your previous Corpsman? Didn't you deploy with one?"

"No." That had Ryder's jaw drop. Literally. It was one thing for a Marine _Detachment_ on-board a vessel to do without a dedicated Corpsman. Detachments served on vessels that likely had a dispensary with Corpsmen on it, and one would be temporarily assigned for any kind of effort on the Marines' part. It wasn't unusual for one Corpsman on a vessel to push themselves to be a dedicated Corpsman to a Detachment, like Sara had, wanting to earn their way to become a FMF Corpsman. But a Marine _deployment_ was different; they should have had a FMF Corpsman assigned to them even before the deployment, and at the very least when they received their orders. That was the whole point of the Field Marine Force Corpsman and the training involved to become one; to turn a Corpsman into a proper Marine while having the medical skills to serve as a Corpsman. That 1B3/7 had done without before the deployment, and during the deployment? That was alarming. "Believe me, Doc, you ain't thinking anything I haven't screamed about up the chain-of-command about a dozen times over. I kept getting the same message; it's in the works. When I finally got word that we were being sent one straight from the FMTB, I didn't even give a shit that you'd likely be some brand-new wet-behind-the-ears Corpsman. Thankfully, you ain't some half-ass dispensary puke that wanted the extra pay. Saw your CO's letter of recommendation. John Brennen and I worked together a few years back, and when he says someone is a tough son-of-a-bitch, he isn't blowing wind."

Sara had read the recommendation letters on her behalf from CPO Ramirez and Captain Olivier, and they were nice. But the one from Brennen had read like a damn _Blasto!_ flick. All the extra training she had done had been meticulously recorded, from physical training, weapons, to even medical training. The Staff Sergeant had noted it and annotated it, including some of her more extensive prep training like hauling heavy bags to simulate carrying a man off the battlefield. The narrative was nice as well. According to him, Brennen fully expect Sara to be able to keep a man alive in the worst of conditions with a cool head and professional demeanor. Then he explained how she had done just that with him during the VBSS exercise and continuing with the training after he had been evacuated. There really wasn't a better compliment for a Corpsman than to have a Senior Marine Non-Com to say _I trust Doc with my life_. It was touching, really.

"Well, give me a couple of days to get my routine matched with yours, and I'll go through the prelim check-ups and updates and make sure everyone's up-to-date with their needs and necessary prescriptions." Ryder replied, getting a knowing nod from the Gunny. Her primary function was to keep Marines healthy and in fighting condition. "Point me to a cot and toss me whatever medical records you have, and I'll start getting to work from the bottom up." That meant that the Privates and Private First Classes would be first on the list. Marines were big on making sure subordinates were taken care of first. When she got done with the Marines, then she would head to Alpha and start her work there. That promised to be loads of fun. "Any big glaring issues, Gunny?"

"Didn't happen to bring any vids or music, did you?" Halverson asked, his grin lopsided.

"Please, I'm not a _bus driver_." Sara jerked her head to her deployment bag, where her personal effects were. "Brought a bunch of OSD's with all the currents. Plus some skin flicks. I take care of my Marines." They were _her Marines_ , plain and simple. She lived with them, ate with them, trained with them, and took care of them. Anyone tried anything? She'd rip their soul out after snapping their spine in half and then check their pulse to make sure they were still breathing so they'd feel it. _Nobody_ fucked with _her_ Marines. _Nobody_.

"Fucking _Semper Fi_ , Doc."

"Fucking _Semper Fi_ , Gunny."

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder's first patient was the lowest man on the totem pole. Private Mikael Holodansk was an eighteen-year old Marine straight out of Boot, a 0300-Series Marine Infantryman who was ego, testosterone, and an advance case of foot-in-mouth disease. Sara had found her cot in the GP Medium Habitat easily enough, the only partitioned cot in the barracks full of Jarheads. Sara knew without being told that it meant she was the only woman in the unit. Being stuck with thirty-seven male Marines as the only girl would certainly be entertaining. Holodansk personified that; he was sitting on her cot while she did a basic check-up on him while reviewing his medical records and updating them. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but they occasionally dipped towards her chest and her ass. It probably didn't help that she had forgone that Alliance Blue blouse and was rocking her blue Navy-issue moisture-wicking Underarmor short sleeve shirt that was rather form-fitting. Six weeks without being around any women and Sara knew she was immediate eye candy. As long as it stayed that way in the appropriate manner and in limited amounts of time, she'd let them look. They were guys, after all. What she really wasn't looking forward to was all the alpha male posturing and bullshit that would inevitably ensue.

"Looks like you got a clean bill of health your last three check-ups, Private." Sara commented as she worked on the datapad that had all the medical records for the Marines for 1B3/7, reviewing Holodansk's. It had his initial check-up from when he entered Boot, and every subsequent visit, including when he had broken his pinkie in Marine Corps Martial Arts Program training. It had been splinted, but there was no follow up since Red Platoon hadn't had a Corpsman to do an evaluation. Ryder would need access to either an x-ray machine or an ultrasound machine to make sure it healed properly. If there was one to be had. "How's the pinkie?"

"It's good, Doc. No popping, grinding, or pain." The Marine replied, sounding a little surprised that she asked. Sara knew that men liked to tough things out, thinking that mentioning minor problems meant one was a pussy. She could circumvent some ego with proper care and treatment and make the Marine in question get fit and ready without looking like he brought it up. If Doc made him do it, then it was Doc doing her job. No one questioned it, and manliness was pristine.

"Hold up your hand." The Private's left hand went up. "Make a fist." No issues there, all the fingers rolled together at the same time, and Holodansk didn't wince or tried not to wince. "Okay, punch my palm." Sara held out a hand for him to do just that, and the Marine looked a little uneasy at the request, but he did so, giving her palm a decent tap. "I said punch, Private, not bro-fist me." The Private complied, this time giving her palm a meaty smack with her knuckles, her palm stinging for a moment. Again, his face showed no outlying concerns. "Good. There was no further evaluation after your splint came off, so I need to make sure it heals properly. Hold out your hand, fingers splayed." Holodansk held out his hand as Sara put down the datapad and took the pinkie in question in her hands and gently manipulated it. She rubbed the site in question, and felt good ligature movement and muscle alignment, and again there was no winces or signs of pain on the Private's face when she had done so. It had been a very likely case that the job had been done right in the first place, but there was a reason for follow-ups. "All right. Looks good." Ryder picked up the datapad and its stylus and annotated the physical check-up, including the fact that she lacked the necessary equipment for a thorough follow-up. "Open your mouth."

"Ahhhhh." Her otoscope was located at the front of his mouth, illuminating the back of the Marine's through so Sara could check out his throat, tonsils, and uvula. It looked a little dry, with minor white secretions, commonly expected in superdry environments or areas where a great deal of hydration was needed.

"You haven't been taking your pills, Marine." The tone wasn't that of some nurse reminding the Private to be a good boy. Doc sniffed something out, and she was going to lay into his ass. "Three iodine pills a day; morning, noon, and night. Take your pills and increase your water intake by fifty percent for the next three days unless you want to crash from heat exhaustion. Rip-Its don't count, Private."

"Sir, yessir." She got the 'sir' sandwich; the surefire answer for any Marine Private who would comply with an order to avoid getting a boot up his ass from a Non-Com. Sara went through the rest of the routine check-up with ease. She checked his eyes, and ears. She did a reflex test on his elbows and knees with a knuckle. She listened to his lungs and heart with her stethoscope. She watched him blush as she told him to drop his drawers to do the 'turn-and-cough' test that involved her putting a pair of fingers on the root of his scrotum sac to check him for any possible hernia. For some reason, despite guys thinking about nothing else other than sex and showing their junk off, the 'turn-and-cough' always made a man blush whenever a female Corpsman asked them to do it. Oh, Sara got why; the guys were trying to be professional and doing their damnedest not to get an erection in front of a woman who was evaluating them medically. Sara remembered one of the Marines back on the Kyoto trying to stammer his way out of the test when Doc did a check-up on him, mortified that he had a half-mast boner that he didn't want her to know about. She did it anyhow, half-mast and all. Holodansk got the same look on his face as he complied, and sure enough, he wasn't exactly at full rest. Well, he'd been stuck in a hellhole in an all-male unit for the past six weeks, and he was looking at a woman that wasn't on a porn vid or spank mag for the first time in over a month. It was to be expected. Sara did the test regardless, and the Private coughed his way through, his cheeks rosy red as she politely ignored his semi-erect penis. That was certainly a part of the medical field, and no one got away with it, male or female, provider or patient.

"Alright. No worries." Ryder assured the Marine, the test over. "Go ahead and get dressed, Marine." Ryder pulled off her examination gloves and tossed them into a conveniently-place waste receptacle before picking up her datapad and clearing Private Holodansk medically. "When you leave, can you send Private Broussard in? Pills, three times a day, and more water."

"Aye aye, Doc." Privates needed a little more reminder than most; the quintessential Jarheads. "I'll go get Brasserie now." Ryder tried not to chuckle too loudly at that. Ah, Marines and their nicknames. Did anyone realize that 'brasserie' was the real term for a bra? Sara wondered what guy actually might know that. Marine nicknames were tradition; they were often related to either their names, their personalities, or something physical about them. Almost all of them were either sexually-related, intelligence-related, or ethnically-related. She'd likely learn them all before the day was over. The curtain partition that made up the 'walls' of her room in the open bay slid open to reveal another eighteen-year old Marine.

"You wanted to see me, Doc?" Private Louis Broussard asked, his voice heavily accented in French.

"Step to my examination table." She pointed to the cot, which was bereft of any kind of sleeping equipment. They were getting onto a bed, not her bed, and the distinction was clear and evident. Broussard was easily compliant as Sara queued up the Private's medical records, and did a quick review of them. "How are your eyes?"

"Good, Doc." Broussard had come into the Marines needing corrective lenses, and had gotten Lasix surgery to correct his astigmatism. "No headaches or fuzziness." Those were the common post-surgery complaints, and the questions most often asked. It had been a few months, and no complications meant success. "Still find myself reaching for my glasses in the morning."

"Lifetime habit can be hard to quit." Sara replied, nodding her head. She picked up her digital thermometer, slipped a plastic insert over the stick, and the Marine figured out the rest on his own by opening his mouth and letting her stick the instrument under his tongue. While she waited for the thermometer to read out his temperature, Ryder grabbed the sphygmomanometer pressure cuff and her stethoscope and wrapped it around just north of his left elbow, placing the stethoscope in the hollow of the joint where the brachial artery pulse could be located while she began compressing the bulb to increase the pressure in the cuff until she couldn't hear his pulse. She released the pressure slowly until she could hear his pulse as she watched the analog dial tick lower, indicating his systolic blood pressure. She noted the needle's reading as she continued to lower the pressure on the cuff until the pulse 'dimmed' further until she couldn't hear it anymore, indicating his diastolic blood pressure. Satisfied, she pulled off the stethoscope and pressure cuff and annotated the Marines' high and low blood pressure, well within the normal range. She then took the thermometer out of his mouth and looked at his temperature. A little higher than normal, but that could be expected on a hellhole like Therum. Holodansk's temperature was about the same as well. "Drinking plenty of water?"

"Four liters every day. Plus my pills, Doc." The Private answered, and Sara nodded. Holodansk hadn't mentioned his pills at all, and his answer to drinking water had simply been _yes_. Broussard was obviously a little more intelligent than that. His records were updated, and other than his Lasix eye surgery, he had no injuries or complications of note. Four liters was a shade over an Imperial gallon, which was what was probably required by platoon standard. Now that she was here, Ryder would actually see if that was the necessary amount, or if it needed changing. If Broussard actually was taking his iodine three times a day and drinking four liters a day, he'd make a good baseline.

"Good work, Marine. Show me some tonsils." That got her a smile as the Marine opened up his mouth while she used her otoscope to check the back of his throat for any signs of redness, swelling, mucus, discoloration, or other discharges. Everything looked pink and proper. "Left ear." The Private turned his head, and Sara examined his ear canal, looking for any discolored build-up or obstructions, and finding none. "Right ear." Again, she check, and found everything to be in good order. "Alright. Let's check the peepers, shall we?" Ryder set down her otoscope and picked up her opthalmoscope and turned it on, using the light to illuminate the optical organ to see the fundus of the eye, checking on the health of the optical disk, the retina, and the vitreous humor. She checked the left eye first, and then the right, and found nothing of concern. She annotated all that into Broussard's medical records. "Anything you'd like checked out?"

"I'm… um… getting backne." Back acne wasn't a concern, but it obviously embarrassed the Private. Of course, he could think it was acne, but really was something else. "I shower daily, but it doesn't really go away."

"Alright. Lose the shirt and turn around." Honestly, in such a hot environment like Therum, it was likely heat rash, which showering would only moderate, not fix. Broussard took off his tan Underarmor shirt and turned his back to her, and sure enough he had a good bit of a heat rash along his back, near the arm pits. Sara used the otoscope to illuminate the sites better to make sure it wasn't anything else like sclerosis or a fungal infection. Being on a planet not Earth brought its own diseases and environmental concerns, and it was better to stay on top of such things. Thankfully, it was heat rash.

"Heat rash, due to sweating in a sweatbox like Therum, Private." Ryder reassured the Marine, who looked a little more relieved. "Got some cream that will help clear that up, but you're just one of the unfortunate ones that are a little more susceptible to it. Keep an eye on it, apply the cream before you go to bed, and come back when you need more." Ryder dug through her trunk full of goodies and pulled out a simple epidermal cream that was part moisturizer and part cortisone steroid. "Should clear up nicely in three days. If it doesn't? Knock on my door and I'll give you a different brand. Good job bringing it to my attention." She handed him the small bottle, and Broussard looked happy that he did. She continued through the check-up, testing his reflex response and listening to his heart and lungs. All and all, Broussard was the picture of a young, healthy Marine. "Alright." Sara smiled as she pulled out a pair of disposable latex gloves and snapped them on. "Drop the drawers."

Broussard blushed as he complied. Meekly. Two for two on half-masts.

Thirty-five more to go.

* * *

Nighttime had finally come to Therum with its twenty-eight hour and thirty-eight minute day, and Petty Officer Sara Ryder laid in her cot for the first time, the partition wall that secluded her and made her a 'room' pulled back to let the Marines of 1B3/7 know that they could 'knock' on her door, as she was decent and not asleep. The day had been a long one, and she was having to adjust her schedule to the longer-than-normal day that Therum had, more use to the standard twenty-four hour shift that the SSV Kyoto had, as well as that of the Field Medical Training Battalion back in Alaska. The longer-than-normal day honestly reminded her of home on the Citadel, a twenty-seven hour and thirteen minute day that she had lived with for her entire life before joining the Systems Alliance Navy. The 'Noc' shift was on-duty for security purposes, one-half of the Marine Platoon working at stations, on equipment, or in guard towers for their fourteen hour and nineteen minute rotation, exactly one half of the day. Shifts went from midnight (0000 Therum) to noon (1419 Therum), and any kinks or wrinkles in the rotations had long since been ironed out in the six weeks since 1B3/7 had been on-planet. The only two exemptions to the shift rotation was Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson, who was technically on-call regardless of shift, and herself for the same reason. When she started working the Alpha Clinic, she would likely make up a rotation for the work day for the dig site, and then have some sort of means for someone to call her in case of emergency. On a planet as hot as Therum, it hadn't surprised her to discover that the majority of the work at Alpha was done during the 'cooler' night hours.

It would take some getting use to, no doubt.

At the moment, Sara was on her cot, writing out a message on her datapad. In fact, she had already written a couple, firing one off to Dad and the other to her brother. Alec Ryder (SAN, CPT, N7, ret.) was currently employed with some civilian contract work that involved training up a team geared towards surveying, teaching the group how to identify local resources for exploitation and protect themselves in unknown environments. Surprisingly, her Dad was pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing, as the work involved some heavy Non-Disclosure Agreement that didn't even let him tell his children who the company was, or where he was working at. Sara was pretty certain that it was likely some mercenary company working for either the Systems Alliance or the Human Independent League looking for uncharted resource worlds to exploit under the Citadel's Bureau of Resource and Colonization.

 _Dad,_ her message began.

 _Deployed to Therum in the Artemis Tau Cluster, and it's about as nice as Venus on a cool day. Geologically active with volcanic activity and lava pools; all the attraction sites, of course. Got me a platoon of Marines to mother hen to death, making sure they eat their vitamins and smacking them upside the head when stupidity ensues. Lots of hard work got me here, and it's my first day being what I've wanted to be. Despite the hellish conditions of Therum itself, I'm loving it just the same. I've got thirty-seven Marines who need a Doc, and about a hundred civilians that I'm responsible for now too, the only health care provider in the area. It reminds me a little of the few stories you told us of Shanxi, how a certain man or woman can make all the difference, not necessarily being a hero, just being the person needed at the time. There's a work site going on, which will mean work-related injuries, and I know people will feel more comfortable knowing that someone like me will be around to look out for them. I'm planning on visiting the site and inspecting it for safety-related concerns while setting up a clinic for both the civilians and my Marines. Got my FMF Insignia… and I'm running a dispensary! :O On the other hand, it's only me, and that kind of responsibility? I won't lie, I'm looking forward to being that linch pin, something I've aways kind of wanted. I'll find the time to work with my Marines, not letting all that hard work go to waste, after all. But this deployment? I've got a pretty good feeling about it. It'll make me look good, and it's going to make me feel good about my choices and decisions. Can't beat that._

 _Take care out there, and don't forget to play Obi Wan Kenobi to your protege. Don't bore her to death with all of your stories; save some for special occasions so you can play the wise mentor shtick for a few more years. When all else fails, just quote Confucius and a few other old-school Oriental deep-thinkers. Never hurts to play it smart._

 _Your loving daughter,_

 _Sara._

Scott had gotten his Corporal in March, pretty much a few days after their 20th birthday, stuck watching Relay 202 rotate near Arcturus Station in the Stream. Relay 202 led towards some rather contested space thanks to Turian Separatists and Batarian Raiders in the Maltis System, which then had another relay connecting to the system that went into free space; one that no Citadel-authorized government or agency controlled. Silver Medal was a part of the shield that protected Humanity, but in the past two years, hadn't left the Cruiser he was attached to once save for Liberty Passes back to the Arc. Sara could tell without being told that Scott was getting cabin fever, and a good many of her messages to him were words of encouragement and reassurance. She knew that her younger twin brother was getting jealous of her, having gone and done realistic training exercises and the chance to go and prove herself. Her deployment to Therum would have been something Scott would have jumped at the chance for, a chance to show what he was made of and given an opportunity to shine. Scott was of course proud of her, getting her Fleet Marine Force Insignia and being officially assigned to a Marine unit. He knew how much that meant to her, as well as how much she busted her ass for it.

Sara knew; Scott was beginning to lose hope that he'd get that chance.

 _Silver Medal,_ the next message began for her younger twin brother,

 _It's official; I'm a wannabe Jarhead now. I was sent to Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment, to Therum. It's hot as hell here, and midday temperatures are lethal without a proper seal on your suit. If you trip and fall, you might land on lava. Next time you watch that Relay rotate and bitch about it with your battle buddies? Tell them your sister wants you to package up some cold vacuum in a bottle and send it to me so I can remember what cold feels like. Next time I fiddle with the room temperature monitor gauge to bring it up a few degrees because I'm too chilly? Smack me upside the head. You have my permission._

 _Honestly, though… I'm loving it here. Hell setting or not, I'm right where I want to be. Okay, I could live without Therum, but the position I'm in, what I'm doing… I'm accomplishing, and it feels good. I know you're struggling a little, Scott, I can tell. Just keep hitting up the military correspondence courses, hit up the civilian education credits, and look better than your peers. Someone's going to realize that they goofed and dropped the ball with you, and you're going to find yourself on some Security Detachment Team or a VBSS Unit, and you're going to miss being bored. Work on being the leader you want to be, being the Marine you need to be, and the kind of man you wished you'd be, and you will do fine, bro. I'm proud of you, and I have faith in you. I know you're probably a little jealous of me, but this wasn't handed to me on a silver plater. I went and earned it every day, working harder than everyone else to show what I was made of. Yesterday's success doesn't spell tomorrow's success, so find ways to stride ahead of the pack, impress your leadership, and mold yourself into the next position you really want so that the Marine Corps would be retarded not to let you do it. Keep your chin up, Scottie; I believe in you._

 _You could always just blow up the Relay, of course. No Relay, no watching duty! Of course, I'm sure the prison sentence for that is like… eternity plus twenty years._

 _Hey, what was the name of that one girl you dated right before you graduated? You know, the Prom Date that wouldn't stop following you like a puppy dog? Hit her up. At the least you will be amused to find out she's probably twenty kilos overweight and on her second kid. If not her, then one of the few dozen girls you went and ladykilled as a teenager._

 _Did I ever mention having a player as a brother was exasperating? Only a billion times or so? Just making sure. You could attempt to not crack open every can of tuna you find walking about, of course, but then I remember it's you. I almost wish one of those girls would walk out on you, you know, a point for the home team? But then I remember that practically every single one of those bimbos thought that they tie you down and change you, the good-looking bad boy with the silver tongue and all that charm. Does not leave a lot of encouragement for womankind, let me tell you. Of course, you could date someone with more IQ points than their bra size or waist line. But who am I kidding? The smart ones see you a kilometer coming and steer clear. The stupid one practically trip over themselves gushing all over you. It's almost nauseating._

 _Know what's worse? Being the only woman in a unit filled with Marines. Imagine like… a dozen of you banging their heads against one another like rams in mating season. I guess I get to see how the other half live, now. I'll keep you posted on the Marine Alpha Male War. At the least it will be good for some laughs._

 _Stay strong, little brother, and remember; the only way you'll get anywhere is walking forward (-Dad, of course)_

 _Love,_

 _Minute Rice._

The next one went to her Auntie.

 _So guess who got deployed to Hell?_ , the EN-Mail began as Sara typed away.

 _Welcome to Therum. The beaches here are spectacular as they shore up the lava oceans, and the highly-volcanic mountain ranges are all the rage for mountaineers who like poisonous gases along with free-climbing. The plains of razor-sharp basalt rock and chipped obsidian provide ample opportunities for cross-country driving in all-terrain vehicles, and you will never, ever, worry about getting chilly. For a night out on the town, I suggest waiting until 2838 Zulu for the coolest part of the night so you don't immediately dehydrate and fall into heat stroke within fifteen minutes. For local cuisine, place your food on a nearby rock and letting it roast old-school style, letting the planet cook it for you. Just remember to pick out the gravel first to avoid native spices. For nightlife, we have Outside! You can hear the bass-like beat of minor tremors and aftershocks, kept in time with illuminating lightning shows from volcanic gases and rapid ionization, and not to mention slightly toxic gases for pyrotechnics._

 _I think I might retire here, Auntie. :-p_

 _So I'm assigned to a Marine unit deployed to this cheerful little backwater on the back-end of the Alliance, making sure civilians don't stub their toes or cry too hard. Come to find out that I am literally the only medically-trained person in like a two hundred kilometer area! Someone dropped the ball bad here, and the unit (and civilians) have been going without for several weeks now. That was mind boggling to me, Auntie, Marines are suppose to have Corpsmen on actual deployment! Still, ran through the basic assessments with my Marines, and everyone checked out a-okay, just a few minor dings and frowns. I am, of course, the only female with a parsec or seven, so the boys here are so happy to see me. The turn-and-cough test produced a good many blushes as boys had to drop their drawers in front of a female Doc, the first girl they've seen in over a month. Guess how many were happy to see me? Try all of them, ranging from halfway to a couple who were full-mast. One poor Sergeant almost died of shame on the spot as he tried to will away his boner, blushing so hard I thought he was going to asphyxiate. Still, everyone is in good health, so that's what counts. And thanks for the OSD's; I think we've got movie night covered for the next several months, at least._

 _Being a real dye-in-the-wool Fleet Marine Corpsman now, it's almost too real to be true. I've been working for this for a few years now, really since about my second year in high school. What I did in Illyeria was amazing, of course, but looking back now? I got lucky, Auntie. I had no idea what I was doing, and I could have made things a lot worse. I'm just glad that I didn't make anyone a lot worse or even accidentally give someone something they might have been allergic to. All I remember was seeing you there, wounded and untreated, and I wasn't going to let that stand. And then I saw all those others who were just like you, and my mind was made up. I know I've probably told you this at least a hundred times, Auntie, but I wanted you to be proud of me. You were doing your part, and I wanted that chance, too. Skipping school and jumping station off the Citadel to stowaway on an Alliance Destroyer heading towards battle-torn Elysium was the best decision I ever made, no matter how stupid and ill-conceived it was. I certainly didn't think that would be the decision that would forever change my life, to become the woman I am today. Seeing those people in the hospital, untreated and suffering from burns and wounds? Seeing you on a stretcher, shot and forgotten? People might have died in that wing if it had not been for me. You would have died. Staff Sergeant Brennan could have very well died if it had been one of the other Corpsmen from the Kyoto, not nearly as prepared or as dedicated as I was. Now I'm proud of me._

 _Try not to get too fat and lazy up in the Arc, Auntie. And talk to Scott? I think he's going a bit stir-crazy with two years of nothing to show for it._

 _Love,_

 _Sara._

Sara sent the EN-Mail off through her personal AppleCorps iPad, checking her watch to see what time it was. Evening chow had come and gone (Unified Group Ration, Edible, or UGRE's, made by assigned Marines to heat the water and put the trays in for the necessary length of time) and it was getting to be about the time that sleep really was becoming an option, Sara having decided to try and stay awake longer than necessary to acclimate herself to the longer-than-normal Therum day. Her room was pretty much set up; personal effect locked up in her locker, a few everyday items set under her got for easy access, sleeping pad, pillow, and blanket for her bed, and tomorrow's PT uniform and duty uniform folded and ready to go. She decided that now would be as good a time as any to go hit the showers, getting out of her bed and grabbing her shower gear; flip-flops, shower kit, towel, and a pair of PT's to change into after wards.

She took a longer-than-standard shower of three minutes, having the whole shower facility to herself, and it felt glorious.

Sara came back in her PT's and flip-flops, with her towel wrapped around her hair. She saw that a few of the Marines were playing poker on an ad hoc table that was a foot locker, but that her presence had a slight pause to the game. She ignored the whispered comments of _damn_ and _legs for days_ from the boys, letting them get their looks in as she went back to her cot. None of the comments or looks were inappropriate, so she let them enjoy the show. She wasn't going to be a bitch and sling them for checking out a girl and admiring her. It certainly didn't hurt her feelings to know that, either. Sara wasn't going to step off that diving board, though; that smacked of stupid. She hadn't spent years working towards where she was today just so she could fuck it up by trying to be with, date, or fuck one of her Marines. She had seen where that usually led, and she had no interest in that kind of drama or repercussions. If she got horny, she'd do what the guys did; go somewhere private and solve the problem herself.

When she returned to her cot, Sara saw the notification light blinking, meaning she had a message.

 _Dear Jarhead Babysitter_ , the message from her Auntie began, making Sara smile as she read on,

 _As you enjoy your stay at the luxurious resort of Therum, I will happily inform you that, as of yesterday, I am now officially a 'real' Commander; I am now the Executive Officer of a Frigate, line command and everything. Poppa Bear is the CO, and he selected me as the XO. The vessel in question still has a few tests to pass before its shakedown run slated in the next couple of weeks, and the only thing I can say is that it's top-of-the-line and first-in-its-class. Frigate's still got the new-ship smell to it and everything, and I spent the day doing normal day-to-day drills with the crew, getting a feel for their response times and competency. Pilot's a laugh a minute, but the guy can do the Kessel run in under ten parsecs, I swear! He literally scored off-chart. Most everyone here is an expert in their field, honestly. Navigator's top-notched, and probably should be in a Dreadnaught. Chief Engineer could probably build an engine core out of a coconut, some wires, and an Omnitool. The Surgeon here is actually rated for xenomedicine, if you can believe that. Practically everyone here is A-Game material, and someone went and shoved them all into the same ship._

 _Spider sense are tingling, Sara. Something's up, and I can smell it._

 _I know that I've told you that I'm proud of you, and I've meant it every time, but thinking of your messages, I have to say 'proud' doesn't cover it. You didn't just fall into the Navy because you didn't have a direction and it seemed the easy choice. You didn't pick Hospital Corpsman because you thought it would be an easy job, or that it would get you away from doing things. That isn't the Sara I know. You got it in your head that you truly wanted to help people, to be there in their most desperate time of need, to be their salvation whenever things went wrong. It wasn't a snap decision, and you thought it out, seeing where you wanted to be and plotted your course. Seeing you as a Marine Corpsman? I'm in awe, Sara. Really. I remember when you told me that's what you wanted to do when you were in High School, and you wouldn't be talked out of it. What was better was that you had an answer to every question asked and a reason for every concern. That you wanted to do your part is nice, but those are just words. No, I could tell that you truly meant it, that you were going to bust your ass to accomplish what you wanted out of your life at such a young age. The maturity of it was astounding, and I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I took your FMTB Graduation pic of you getting your FMF Insignia pinned on you and showed it to Poppa Bear and anyone else in our crazy family. Poppa Bear got all misty-eyed at the sight of it, of course; you know he sees us as his surrogate kids. Mom was all smiles, remembering her days back on Shanxi being an emergency evac shuttle pilot with her own Corpsman and EMTs, flying your Dad, my Dad, Poppa Bear, and Uncle Jack. Seeing you all grown up? It's… precious, honestly. You've always been like a kid sister to me, and seeing the adult you, successful and proud? Yeah, Uncle Alec has every reason to beam._

 _Keep this up, and we might have matching N7 stripes ;-)_

 _Stay strong, stay sharp, and keep the Jarheads from clubbing themselves too hard trying to win your hand. If you get bored? Have them build a pool for you outside and insert the word 'bikini'. It'll be done in record time._

 _Love,_

 _Jannie._

Sara snorted as she finished the message, finishing towel-drying her hair before getting a simple brush and doing her customary one hundred strokes. That finished, she prepared her bed for sleeping before laying down, grabbing her Bible and opening it to where she left off, her bookmark at the Book of Daniel.

* * *

Author's Note: _Mass Effect: Of Angels And Lions_ may be an original; Sara Ryder in Mass Effect 1. I don't know if anyone's done it or not. There really wasn't a lot to go off about the twins' Milky Way careers, save that Sara was in love with Protheantology, and Scott watched a Relay spin. Sara and Scott were Alliance, but no mention if they were Sailors or Marines, what their actual job was (Sara might have been a researcher, but she was also a peacekeeper, too). I went with one of the most important profession in the Navy; the Hospital Corpsman. The HM 8404 is the most highly decorated rate in the US Navy (likely the British Navy, too) and the Corpsman are involved with everything medical, from technicians to prescriptions. The Marines do not have Medics like the Army or the Air Force, drawing theirs from the Navy. Much of what I have written is true of the US Navy Corpsman, and I've known a few in my time in service with the Army, and each one of those Combat Corpsmen were badasses, indeed saving your life with one hand while defending you with the other with a firearm. 'Doc' is indeed the term for the Medic or Corpsman, and there are many a great real story about Docs pulling injured men out of combat, even throwing themselves over casualties to protect them. Sara will be one of these noble creatures.

The story's beginning is actually right before the official start of Mass Effect 1; the Normandy hasn't made its legendary shakedown run, yet. So just after Joker steals the Normandy (as seen in the comic 'He Who Laughs Best') but before the intro on the Normandy itself. Technically, Nihlus isn't on board yet.

Sara will have her own background and service history; Cit-Born (as she was born in '63), and Medical as a service history, a history know as 'the Angel of Illyeria'. She also was a volunteer Paramedic in the Citadel Emergency Medical Services (CitEMS) from fifteen to eighteen. Since Turians will be the majority population on the Cit, and they are 'adults' at fifteen, this rule will apply to Humans too, and Sara takes advantage by choosing a field that appeals to her; medical. More will be explained throughout the story. I actually have several chapters written called 'Firstborn' pertaining to Sara Ryder and Skybulance-37.

The Corvette-Class SSV _Charger_ I stole from my own story, Where The Law Stands Tall. It is the vessel that performs a suicide light jump into a Batarian Battleship in Therum, VIII of that story. Corvettes in the US Navy are small fast-attack vessels that normally patrol near the bigger vessels for protection, as well as hunting pirates of the high seas. In my story Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege of Hadley's Hope, Corvettes were known as _Knuckledusters_ ; Marine deployment craft meant to fly directly to ground battle to deploy Marines instead of Naval battles. I am still keeping this element, though you will not see much of the Knuckledusters in this story.

The 'turn-and-cough' test is a guy-only procedure where someone indeed puts their hand against your scrotum sac (uncomfortably) and makes you cough. Yes, it's to check for hernias, as there is some sort of muscle band that connects abdominal wall to the testes. And it's fairly embarrassing to drop trough in front of a stranger and show off your junk professionally. While not exactly the same as the female pap smear (which is a great deal more embarrassing and involves a spectulum that… opens things up), it's the same idea; preventative medicine.

The Otoscope is the clinical name for the device Doctors use to check your throat, nose, and ears. The Opthamoscope is the eye one. The sphygmomanometer is indeed the name of the pressure cuff, which the old school ones still use mercury.

I hope it wasn't tasteless to have the 'turn-and-cough' test with a female and the issue of having a boner. I'm sure it comes up, especially with young female nurses and medics. That… was not meant as a joke. Sorry. Done plenty of medical check-ups as an assistant medic myself, and yeah… having to do that professionally was certainly entertaining. And guys blush when you tell them to drop trough in front of a guy, too.

The pool joke is a bit of an inside joke for anyone who ever visited Camp Arifjon (spelling?) in Kuwait, what we in the Army called 'Air Force Heaven'. It was one of the nicest camps in Kuwait, and it had a pool. And then someone authorized the bikini as appropriate swim wear in said pool. Just think about it for a minute; women in bikinis in the Middle East.

I'm sure we know who 'Auntie' is, but this is Sara's story. More details later.

I'm using some current technological concepts with some future-tech for Mass Effect. The SmartPhone isn't the same as a Tablet, so thus the OmniTool and the Datapad will have purposes, advantages/disadvantages, so on and so forth, linear to what we have/do. And yes, there will be apps. And Facebook. And YouTube. If by different names.


	2. Dig Site Alpha, II

_BioWare; killing things with swords, lightsabers, and guns since 1995._

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, May 27, 2183**

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in front of the clinic of Dig Site Alpha, and tried not to wince.

It was early morning Therum, where Knossus had yet to fully bloom over the craggy horizon of the geologically-active planet when Ryder went to visit the dig site with the intent to establish the clinic, meet with the expeditionary leader of the dig site, and get to work. Three Marine Privates had been assigned to her to carry her medical equipment, having four medial supply chests delivered to Alpha from Nova Yekaterinburg courtesy of the Systems Alliance Navy. Each one of them hauled the supplies over by hand over the rocky terrain the hundred or so meters to the actual entrance of the dig site, set in a deep depression that was likely a sink hole millennium old. Sara herself had the 'drug' locker, filled with supplies and prescriptions that would been need in the garden-variety, everyday manner, as well as a cache of combat drugs and painkillers. There was a chest filled with portable equipment for check-ups and diagnostic equipment, another to set up the clinic and its various tools, and the last was office equipment. It couldn't have been more bare bones if she tried, but at the least she would be able to treat anyone with even serious cases of injuries if required. She'd been getting more equipment next week, so at the least she was well-stocked for the time being.

The clinic, or the small pre-fab trailer that was to be the clinic, was a bit of a joke.

It was a container unit, twelve meters long by three meters wide, and was obviously used to transport the necessary equipment for the expedition. It didn't have a door, per se; it was locked with its original locking doors courtesy of two locking bars secured with handles. It didn't have any power or air conditioning connected to it, either. Obviously, a clinic with no health care provider wasn't a big priority.

"Well, this isn't cozy at all." Ryder looked over to Private Broussard, who had volunteered to help Doc lug the equipment over. It was already beginning to be near extreme temperatures for Human norm this early in the morning, and the clinic was simply a no-go. Sara was already beginning to sweat through her Sirta Foundation's Phoenix Light Medic Armor despite the environmental seals and system meant to regulate the internal temperature. 'Regulate' didn't mean 'comfort', just 'not sweating to death in ones' armor'. In an hour, it would be even worse. "Bet the clinic is an actual pre-fab building that some self-important mucky-muck took for themselves so they'd get more room and have to share less."

"I believe it." Broussard admitted readily enough. The general opinion of civilians was pretty low amongst the military. Just because they enlisted to protect them didn't mean they had to enjoy some of the more retarded things that the colonists or civilians did. "We could probably shuffle things around and open the clinic at the barracks, Doc."

"And make these poor roughnecks walk _all_ that way so they could stomp around our wig-wag?" While it wasn't a far distance, it did involve a path through a rocky face that had several switchbacks and would be pretty treacherous for anyone not paying attention. Plus, if someone were hurt, it made more sense to be closer to the accident site, not having an injured person be carried further away. Especially through a series of switchbacks up an escarpment. "Closer is better, Bra. We were promised a facility, and if we let them start reneging on things, next thing you know is that we'll be chiseling the damn walls for them for doohickies." Broussard and the other two Privates chuckled at that. When it came to civilian laziness, there was no end in sight and nothing they'd stoop to. "We'll throw the chests into the 'clinic', and then I'll head on-site and find the expedition leader… or manager… or whoever runs this taco stand. Then I'm going to pin their ears back." The Privates loved it when a Non-Com talked dirty like that when it didn't involved them. The military was all about discipline, and it was a leaders' responsibility to correct infractions. For Doc, it was a double-dose; both physical and medical. Someone shirked on their health? Doc ripped them a new a-hole, plain and simple.

The doors to the container were opened, and Ryder wasn't surprised at all to find out that the container unit was indeed a storage locker, equipment laying about in a haphazard fashion, most of it lying on the floor. One of the Privates snorted at the sight as he pulled his medical chest in and placed it along side the wall, snug and proper. All four ended up stacked nice and neat, one atop another, just like the military taught.

"Alright, this will be good for now." Sara replied, knowing that she had the only key to the chests, and they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. She closed the container doors and rotated the handles to lock the doors in place before setting them in their respective cradles. "You Marines can go back to the barracks and let Gunny Halverson know that the dig site dropped the ball and I'm going to have to the ball rolling to make things happen. Might take a while."

"Gonna need a battle buddy, Doc?" Broussard asked, looking to her. Marines didn't do anything alone, but then again Marine Non-Coms were trusted to actually accomplish things alone without supervision. That extended to Navy Non-Coms as well.

"Nah, I'll be good." Broussard looked a little unsure at the response, having it drilled into him since Boot never to leave anyone behind. Of course, there was also the male need to be there for females, to protect them and such. It wasn't sexist, it was just nature. Of course, it could be that he wanted to spend time with her for other reasons; that was just nature too. " _Semper Fi_ , Broussard."

" _Hoo-rah_ , Doc." The Marine was mollified, orders given by a Non-Com, to be obeyed. "We'll head back to the wig-wag. Try not to let the civilians nag you to death."

"Ugh. Civilian nagging." That had the Privates chuckling as Sara made a gagging noise. "Thankfully, I have my armor and my big-girl voice. Head on out, Marines." She got the sir sandwich as a response as all three of them turned to leave, heaving out of the sinkhole to head back to the Marine Barracks set in a defensible position, complete with walls, auto-turrets, security station, gate, and even a small garage for vehicles. Gunny Halverson had taken the security of the site seriously, and had made a hell of an obstacle for anyone that would like to come knocking. Sara watched the Marines leave, and wasn't really surprised to see Broussard turn back to look at her, double-checking. Well, perhaps he did have a thing for her. Wasn't like Combat Armor made anyone look sexy. At the least, he was a man looking out for a woman, that whole white knight thing. It was nice, if impossible. Docs didn't fraternize with their units. That spoke of rank stupidity. Sara had worked too long and too hard to get where she was just to blow it on some silly short-term romance or barracks marriage.

Ryder left the container that was the clinic and moved towards the entrance of the actual dig site, a loading ramp constructed to make the way easier to reach the cave located in the side of the sinkhole instead of constructing stairs or using the terrain, making it easier for people to enter or loading or unloading equipment. The Corpsman took to the ramp and headed towards the constructed access door, a double-pressure door meant to preserve the environment inside wile protecting any artifacts from outside interferences. Sara reached the circular door and found the access panel beside it, complete with an alphanumerical pad, a camera lens, and a card swipe. Ryder entered the thirteen digit access code that Gunnery Sergeant Halverson had given her to enter Alpha, and the first of the set of doors opened up for her, Sara entering into the airlock-styled entrance as the exterior doors slid close after she entered and the containment protocols activated. She waited a full minute as she was swept with hard blasts of air to dislodge dust, bombarded with weak ultraviolet rays to destroy any bacteria or microorganism on her, and then misted with a bleach/chlorine solution to disinfect and sanitize; the standard containment and decontamination protocol. Decon finished, Sara entered into a world at least fifty-thousand years old.

She might have been born on a Prothean space station, but Ryder found herself having to pick up her jaw at the sight of a Prothean ruin.

The Complex, whatever it was, started with a huge antechamber dug deep into a volcanic mountain, one in which the geothermal energy was tapped to power the Complex. Sara had read a small dossier given to the Marine unit, and had been impressed by the research already underway. It seemed that researchers and technicians weren't skimped out on as a dozen fields were represented in unearthing the Prothean ruin, discovering and cataloging anything and everything. Prothean tech and culture had always fascinated Sara, and in another life, that would have been the field she would have picked for herself if she had never boosted herself to Elysium. Sara disengaged her helmet, allowing it to collapse upon itself as the translucent faceplate slid into the curved helmet and the sides retracted upward, allowing her to connect it onto her left pauldron for storage as she entered the Complex. The start of the antechamber was a huge lava chamber, a cavern that could easily fit a part of a Citadel sub-block inside where Prothean architecture laced into the walls, possibly for structural support, but it could even be for power integration. Sara walked slowly, looking all around and marveling at the sight. Even being born on the Citadel and having lived on it for almost two decades, the sight of it all was simply incredible. It had the same feel as the Citadel, with its graceful line and construction, but seeing it embedded into bed rock was certainly new. None of the walls were the same color as the Citadels', that off-white gleam present everywhere in the space station. Instead, they were a gunmetal grey, almost blending into the rock of Therum.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The tone was acidic as Sara looked to the speaker to find a small group of people standing at the end of the ramp that she was taking that would lead her down into the antechamber floor. There were five in all; three Asari, and two Salarians. Each of them were in heavy duty jumpsuits colored green with white paneling and borders, and the logos on the chest was the symbol of that of the Serrice University. Ah, this must be the Asari team of archaeologists and paleontologists, Sara figured as she approached the group at the end of the ramp. The tone had come from an Asari who stood in the center of the group, slightly taller than her Thessian kin, though the Salarians naturally towered over her. Most Humans identified Asari from one of three features; coloration of skin, the centurymarks upon the face, and… yes, the size of their somehow non-feminine breasts. Having lived on the Citadel and seeing Asari all of her life, Sara could recognize more subtle differences in facial features and posture, knowing that Maidens always deferred to Matrons, and Matrons to Matriarchs. She could even figure out a good deal of the social strata matriarchy, knowing which Asari belonged to which family clan by the kind of centurymarks they had, where they were positioned, and the coloration. The one who had spoken to her was obviously a Matriarch; she was much more busty than the others (somehow, Asari got even more voluptuous as they got older), and the markings on her face were both numerous and intricate. By the purple coloration of her centurymarks and the fact that it was actually going into her head crest, it meant that she was not only a native Thessian, but likely her family was of importance in Thessia. While the Republic didn't necessarily have nobility, purple markings meant one of the Great Houses; an ancient line that did something quite important in Thessian past. Like all Asari, Sara knew to be exceedingly polite, to tread carefully, and try not to punch them in their smug faces when they were dealing with one of the 'lesser, shorter-lived' species.

"Matriarch? My name is Petty Officer Third Class Sara Ryder, of the Citadel." Instead of the customary handshake between Human beings, or the military salute between members of the armed forces, Sara effected an Asari courtesy; she held her hands at the small of her back and bowed at a thirty degree angle, her left foot only slightly forward of her right. In Asari culture, it was a greeting of respect and deference, something she knew quite well about from the Citadel. She waited the customary three seconds before straightening up, keeping her hands behind her back and returning her left foot alongside her right. Despite all of their culture and advancement, the Asari were inherently a dominant race, and probably didn't realize they craved supplication in others. Amongst Asari, it was normal to give one's name, their place of birth, and their lineage. Likely, this Asari could probably give a shit less about Human lineage, considering it was customary to name one after their father amongst mankind instead of their mother with Asarikin. "I am a Systems Alliance Navy Corpsman, Matriarch, and the health care provider assigned to Dig Site Alpha." It was obvious to Sara that this Matriarch would likely be a stuffy, smug bitch who saw Humanity as menial workers, much like the Salarian Dalatrasses did with their males.

"You do realize that you are six weeks late, Maiden?" The tone hadn't gotten any less acidic. In fact, it had gone hydrochloric. "Any number of accidents may have occurred while excavating, and we were forced to do without." Heaven forbid the dig site stuck towards safer methods or activities, but Sara knew this was a one-way conversation, and she wouldn't win any argument here. Honestly, a Human-ran operation would have likely gone ahead with full excavation without a health care provider as well. Sara was going to have to do her best to rationalize this before she inserted her foot in her mouth with the Matriarch who had yet to name herself. That was allowed in Asari culture, but everyone else found it rude as hell. "The clinic is at the base camp, where you belong." That dismissal couldn't have been more obvious. Somebody didn't like Earthlings, evidently.

"Stuffed full of your equipment with no A/C and no power." Sara interjected, getting fed up with the attitude. Simple courtesy wasn't much to ask for, but if someone wanted to play belligerent, she'd play ball. "Unless you want me to toss it out onto the ground and make do with whatever I can find and steal. Or you could cuddle the laser auger the next time you get hurt, sweating to death in the dark. And I'm pretty damn certain 'clinic' doesn't equal 'transportation container', _Sai_." Sara used a Turian term that meant 'one who should remember'. It had multiple uses, and depending on the sentence used, could be praise, used to honor a fallen one, or a horrible insult. Sara meant it as an insult. The Matriarch's forehead wrinkled upward in a raised eyebrow fashion, obviously shocked that someone would talk to her in such a fashion. Probably hadn't happened in a few centuries. "Should have been done six weeks ago." There, that tidied it up nicely.

"Making friends I see, Lysana."

Sara looked over to see another Asari arrived, dressed in the same Serrice University jumpsuit, but this one had… some sort of brassard on her right arm, gold with three Asari logogrammatic letters in silver. The letters displayed were 'DPR', and while Ryder didn't know acronym, she had a pretty good feeling that this was the expeditionary leader for the Serrice University Team. Dean of Prothean Research, perhaps?

"Professor T'vara, I…" The Asari began to stammer as the Corpsman noted the other two Asari and two Salarians began to edge away slowly. Ah, someone had screwed up or overstepped their bounds. That was a serious boo-boo in Asari culture, forgetting one's place and acting in the steed of another without permission. Especially when said person was older and/or in charge. "T-This Human…"

"My name is Petty Officer Third Class Sara Ryder, of the Citadel, Matriarch." Again, Sara bowed in proper etiquette towards the new Asari. She was certainly surprised when the Asari in question responded by extending her hand, palm sideways and fingers forward. To shake hands? Sara had never seen an Asari use the Human greeting before! The Corpsman straighted up and took the hand, shaking it properly with a smile. "I'm with the Systems Alliance Navy, and I'm the expedition's Corpsman and health care provider, Matriarch."

"Professor Irissa T'vara, of Itoma." Yes, Ryder could see that the centurymarks were almost yellow; the further one was born from Thessia, the more yellow the markings got. The Matriarch was most definitely a Matriarch, but identified herself by her profession instead of her age. And… Sara was pretty certain she was _younger_ than the rude one, Lysana. "As I understand it, you have just completed a much more advanced course of medical training for this position, Chief Ryder."

"That's… technically true." Sara was a little surprised that this Asari knew some Human idioms, such as calling a Petty Officer 'Chief', as well as shaking hands. "I'm afraid my orders didn't go into details about the fact that I'll be responsible for so many species. I've ordered supplies and some basic manuals on everyday cares and concerns for the species involved, but thankfully I spent three years in the CitEMS as a Skybulance Paramedic." She wasn't afraid to admit that. "Regardless, I can provide emergency care, trauma care, basic check-ups, booster shots, immunotherapy, scans, and health advisory for those here for the time being while I order up on some of the medical necessities I'll need to complete the duties here."

"That will be more than adequate, actually." The Professor smiled, though the other one, Lysana, sniffed primly, as if she expected the Human to be sub-par. Well, fuck her. "Are there any concerns you wish to address?"

"Just the general ones about safety practices. Work sites are notorious about small injuries due to negligence, bad habits, and careless mistakes, sadly." Sara replied shrugging her shoulders. It was pretty standard on Systems Alliance vessels that Non-Coms or a Chief Medical Officer would do just that to make sure that compliance with safety regulations were followed. Preventing injuries from happening was better than being able to fix one. "A quick tour wouldn't hurt, and anything I might notice means less time missed due to injuries, as well as the possibility of some of the artifacts you're looking for getting damaged. Hate for you to go through all that work just for some weak catwalk to collapse at the right moment and a fifty thousand year old artifact gets broken like a egg." That was the words a Protheantologist wanted to hear for sure. All works sites would automatically insist that their safety practices were to standard despite statistics defending that there were always injuries from dropped tools and careless mistakes. But lost time or lost product from the same mistakes would have even the most ardent of foremen listening. Dad taught her that it wasn't what you said, it's what the other person wanted to hear.

"An outside, independent review would be good." The Asari Professor agreed, and Ryder almost had her jaw drop at the agreement. Obviously, this Irissa T'vara was… quite different from her Matriarchical kin. Hell, from her Asarikin, too! She actually listened to others! "Doctor M'ala? Could you be so kind as to fetch Doctor T'soni? I believe she had some issues that she thought needed to be corrected." Matriarch Lysana squawked at the thought of being made to _fetch_ , and Ryder tried not to smirk at the sight. The others that had been around her, the two Asari and Salarians, had wisely fled to avoid being remembered or associated with her. Doctor Lysana M'ala, Sara would remember that name. The Matriarch in question flounced away in a huff, and it was almost similar to what some of her brothers' little female playmates had done back when they were teenagers whenever they didn't get their way. It almost made her laugh out loud. "Doctor T'soni is our resident conspiracy theorist and general… I do believe the Human term is 'nutjob'," the Professor waited for Sara to nod at the identification of the term, "but I find her ideas to be refreshing and coming from a different perspective than others. Such ideas might not be correct, but Liara is very intelligent and very bold. She also noticed a few issues of safety that were waylaid by certain individuals to keep the deficiencies from being corrected, never reaching my nodules." Ah yes, that was the Asari term for _ears_ , which they technically only had thin membranous skin for auditory reception under the lowest flaps of their crest on the sides of their upper skulls. A holdover from their evolution as aquatic creatures. No doubt Doctor M'ala was the reason said concerns were never addressed. "Doctor T'soni is very passionate at her work and in her ideas. Most will do what she asks for the chance to get away from listening to her go on, at length, about her radical ideas of Prothean extinction."

"You know… if it works, it works." Dad had a philosophy; _if you can't beat it, use it_ , along with a hundred other anecdotes that equated to _quit bitching and get it done_. "Wasn't Doctor T'soni the one who stitched up someone's hand when they got hurt?" Sara had seen the report, and it indeed had been an Asari Protheantologist to suture up a Salarian workers' hand when he had gotten cut using a power tool.

"Yes it was." Professor T'vara replied with a smile. "I would have done so myself, but Liara was on the scene and wasted no time cleaning the wound, suturing it, and dressing it. I was impressed for one with little to no medical training. She certainly has not served in the Republican Forces as a Sister Hospitaller." The way the Professor said that… implied that she had.

"You were a combat medic?" Sara perked up at the realization, looking at the Asari in a new light. While different species had different views on different professions and ideas, the role of emergency trauma care professional was generally seen in the same view throughout all the species; an honorable position who helped those in need in their time of need. Sara had volunteered as an EMT on the Citadel for Presidium General to get experience and insight on the job she had selected for herself while she was still at school, assisting in emergency care and learning the basics from other Citadel Emergency Services EMT's. It had gotten her a leg-up on her training to become a Hospital Corpsman, and the Skybulance EMT's she worked for knew who she was and what she had planned to do. All five had taken her under their wing, teaching her and training her, volunteering three hours a day, every day even while going to school at the Presidium Academy of Education. Combat medics were seen in an even more illustrious light, those who served for those that served. For the Hierarchy, they were known as Frontline Barber-Surgeons. For the Republic, Sister Hospitallers. In the Union, Battlefield Trauma Specialists. From normal operations involving taking care of small injuries and illnesses to the most elite of units, combat medics could be found keeping warriors and soldier fit and ready during times of peace and saving them in times of war. Sara hadn't met a similar professional from another species since becoming a Corpsman, but now that she had? All she wanted to do was pick this Asari Professor's brain and talk shop!

"For twenty-five years." T'vara replied with a smile. "Kept my Sisters fit and functional, and carried more than a couple from the line of fire before bandaging their wounds and pressing them out of the battlefield. I endeavored myself to make sure that any I picked up alive remained that way." Sara couldn't stop the stupid grin from spreading on her face, listening to someone who _got it_! It wasn't a profession; it was a calling, a righteous duty. "I see you see it in the same light as I do, Chief."

"My Marines call me 'Doc'. And God help the asshole who tries hurting one of _my_ Marines." There was a knowing smile on the Professor's face, an understanding between the two of them despite their species and (dear God) age difference. No doubt the Asari remembered feeling the same way, defending her Sisters with weapon and Biotics, rushing into the heat of battle to pull out one of her unit members from the line of fire when wounded or surrounded, telling Death straight to the face _not this time, fucker_.

Sara rather thought she was going to like here.

* * *

The tour with Professor Irissa T'vara and Doctor Liara T'soni proved to be both enjoyable and enlightening, Petty Officer Sara Ryder decided as they went through the Dig Site Complex, moving though the many levels and work sites of the Prothean ruin. Much of the complex hadn't been delved into due to its enormity, but certain sections believed to be ladened with artifacts and finds were the first to be exploited. Both Asari took turns talking, the Professor highlighting some of the areas that they had found, naming them for their potential and expectations of what they might find, and the Doctor practically gushing at the thought of relevance and discovery that they might make. Doctor T'soni was obviously a true believer, a young Maiden with no centurymarks upon her face, someone who like Sara had discovered her passions at a young age and dedicated her life towards that endeavor. Yeah, Sara could see why Professor T'vara mentioned the good Doctor as a 'nutjob'; she had discussed at rather great length what she had hoped to discover that would prove her theory on Prothean extinction. Liara wasn't the typical Maiden; not only did she have all her clothes on, but she also didn't flirt with everything with a pulse, either. Unfortunately, once she started talking, she proved Newton's First Law; an object in motion stayed in motion until counteracted. Doctor T'soni spoke for almost an hour straight as Sara checked out gangplanks, catwalks, structural support apparatuses, and hand rails about possible theories of why the Protheans were all gone, and her ideas as to why that was. At least she was nice and friendly, for a nutjob.

Professor T'vara seemed amused with the whole ordeal.

"…while the evidence in of itself is circumstantial," the Asari Doctor continued, having gone on for the past fifteen minutes while Ryder looked at one of the Site's elevators to make sure that the emergency brakes worked, "I believe that there were multiple extinction events throughout the galaxy spanning eons, more than just what affected the Great Prothean Empire." Honestly, Sara had reached the point where she just nodded at the right times, having tuned out the effervescent Asari some time ago.

"Must be a real pain in the ass to try and murder a whole galaxy." The Corpsman coined, immediately regretting it. Shit, she was encouraging the Doctor now. "Professor? Looks like someone didn't actually install all of the Otis brakes on this elevator. There should be a set of four on the top and on the bottom, both hydraulic and mechanical for redundancy. I'm only seeing the ones on the top. Let your maintenance and utility guys know I'm getting on their ass." Such a slipshod thing to do, utter laziness. The elevator was Human-oriented, and thus the safety features were Human-centric.

"Good eye, Doc. I will see to it." Irissa T'vara was thankfully a professional; she was letting Sara do her job, and listening when she made observations and suggestions. Considering it was all to keep the workers safe and to prevent accidents, the Asari Professor was listening with attentive clarity. She hadn't argued once, which was nice. Safety inspections were a pain in the ass, but there was a good reason behind them. Any deficiency Sara got addressed now meant a injury prevented in the future. Oh, there'd likely be some irregardless, but it wouldn't be due to negligence on her behalf.

"I think that covers just about everything." Ryder wiped her hands off to knock off some of the dust and dirt of the Complex as she looked at the two Asari. "Hopefully the Clinic will be ready by tonight so I can address concerns that you and your faculty members might have. No doubt there will be minor issues that can be address with simple anti-inflammatory medications or booster shots. Do you happen to have any medical records on the workers here for known allergies or medical conditions?"

"We do." Irissa nodded with a smile. "I have been holding onto them as the expeditionary leader. I will forward them to you when you have set up so that you can review them."

"Thank you, Professor. I would certainly appreciate it." Surprisingly, Liara managed to be quiet for an entire minute. She was actually looking rather sheepish, come to think about it. Odd. She wasn't sure if she had ever seen a sheepish Maiden before. Most of the ones on the Citadel couldn't shut up about themselves, flaunting their bodies in their near-transparent clothing while quacking about whatever 'in' thing was currently socially popular all over the Artarva Network; the Asari Social Networking Site that incorporated everything from politics to fashion. Sara wasn't exactly a big fan of the Asari due to their general snobbish ways, but she had met a couple in the past that were unlike the others, and seemingly decent folk. Liara was a nice change. Professor T'vara doubly so. "Is anything pertinent I need to be aware of at this time, Professor?"

"That perhaps heading outside may not be the wisest of choices at this time." The Asari Matriarch replied, a slight smile upon her face and an amused tone to her voice. "It is near feasting, which I believe you call 'supper'. Perhaps you could join us for our meal."

"That sounds wonderful." Ryder replied, a little at a loss for words. She was trying to imagine some large space with everyone eating at once, some sort of picnic-styled chow hall or mess hall for everyone to come together to talk shop while enjoying whatever it was that happened to be on the menu. It would almost be like being back on a ship, save on a planet and not surrounded by Sailors and Marines, but actual qualified and intelligent people. Not having to listen to dick jokes from the guys and mindless pussy prattle from the ladies was certainly a pleasant change. "I would love to join. Probably don't require armor." Sara was still wearing her Sirta Foundations' Light Phoenix Medic Armor, not really having anywhere else to put it. All she really had on underneath was her combat undersuit, which was a body-conforming durable ballistic fabric meant to cushion impacts and blows. It wasn't exactly socially proper to go prancing about in a skin-tight heavy duty leotard. Especially spelunking as they were. "I… ah, left my uniform at the barracks though. Not exactly dressed for dinner."

"We have spare uniforms for you to change in if you desire." The Asari Professor replied. "I do not wish to compromise you in any fashion." Sara couldn't help but notice that Liara was… trying not to blush? At the least, the Doctor was looking away to hide the fact that her teal cheeks were now heading toward a more sanguine hue. That was odd. Then again, Liara was a nutjob, albeit a nice one, and probably was thinking the worst. At least she had the propriety not to act like a hussy.

"That would be appreciated, Professor." Sara bowed her head in formal acceptance, in the common way that Asari did to someone their elder, a posture of respect.

"Please, call me Irissa." The Matriarch replied. "If you would follow me to my lodgings, I can make sure that you are adequately attired for the evening." Sara felt her belly do a lazy flip-flop at that, especially when Liara failed not only to cover the blush on her cheeks, but the almost goofy smile spreading over her cerulean lips. Certainly that wasn't what was happening here, and Ryder chided herself for thinking or assuming so. Not to mention not to slap Liara for implying as such. She was simply reading into things that weren't happening. T'vara was an Asari Matriarch and a Professor at an extremely prestigious university and a member of a race that generally looked down upon other races for being 'immature' and 'short-lived'. Yes, the Professor seemed much nicer and more accepting than that, but the truth was that Sara was Human being. Matriarchs were suppose to be with other Asari, letting their Maidens dally about with the so-called 'lesser' species. The Corpsman followed the Protheantologist as they returned towards the main portion of the Complex.

The jaunt only took a few moments, but Sara found herself in the so-called 'living' area of the Complex, where the researchers and scientists had temporary quarters set up in small SnapTents, a few lights and intrinsic field generators set up to power equipment and run the lights. Two dozen were erected, and Sara briefly wondered how many of them were work tents and how many of them were resting tents. Likely, one or two were for mid-day meals instead of going outside. That made sense.

"These are my personal lodgings." The Professor explained as they approached one of the large SnapTents, somewhat separated from the others on top of a raised embankment in which a series of constructed stairs led to. Sara followed after the Asari as they entered through the magnetically-held thermoplast door, only to find herself in a personal lodgings that looked exactly tailored towards an Asari. A lifetime of living on the Cit had Ryder fairly nuanced on the lifestyle that Asari lived, as well as a fair degree of their social expectations and outlooks. One did not see a 'poor' dwelling for the Asari, a Matriarch usually hosting several of her bloodline or Clan-line in a large domicile, a near-palatial manse of exquisite wealth and taste. Maidens generally didn't live on their own, instead 'serving' Matriarchs in return for comfortable lodgings, social education, the gift of wisdom, and all the things that most non-Asari assumed happened behind closed doors. In the Asari Districts of the Cit, most Humans called them 'Harems'. Considering that a good quarter of young Maidens generally sought rather illicit professions for their first few decades or so, that certainly didn't hurt the notion.

Thankfully, Professor T'vara didn't seem to have the same idea for her lodgings. The furniture inside was pre-fabricated portable furniture that collapsed for movement and size, and the bed was an actual cot with the addition of a rollable mattress pad. Honestly, the lodgings didn't look too out of place for a Marine barracks. The Asari Matriarch went to a lightweight metal container in which she opened up to display more of the University of Serrice heavy-duty jumpsuits, obviously enough for several days worth before they needed to be laundered. Irissa pulled out a pair, handing them over to Sara.

"I have a changing station if you require." The Professor informed her, pointing out a small screened area for dressing and undressing away from scrutiny, a sign of modesty and privacy. That was… a little unusual for an Asari, actually. Most that Sara had ever known were practically nude even when wearing some for of attire, with plunging necklines, opened backs and bellies, and high slits along the thighs that went to the hips. Most of the fabrics that Thessians wore was generally quite sheer, form-fitting, and with a certain degree of translucency. Seeing a changing station was a sign that Professor T'vara was different from her kin. "Will you require it?"

"I… ah… yes, Professor." Ryder replied, clearing her throat for a moment, her mind returning to reality. The fact that she was about to change in someone else's house, essentially, was a bit unusual. "Sorry, just…"

"Nervous?" Irissa's brow raised up slightly as a knowing smile teased at her lips. "There is no need to worry, Chief Ryder. I take it you have only had to interact with other species in a public manner?"

"Yes." Sara's voice drifted off, still holding onto the jumpsuit. God, why did her mouth and throat feel dry. "That's… not entirely true, but for the most part it is." She wasn't about to delve into that particular issue with a complete stranger. She didn't even like delving into it just with herself! What was the past was the past, and what was done was done, simple as that. "I'll go ahead and get changed, Professor, with your leave."

"There is no need to stand on ceremony with me, Chief." The Asari replied with a nod of her head as Sara moved to the changing station, standing behind the opaque partition as she began to remove her armor a piece at a time, starting with her pauldrons and arms before moving to the torso, hips, and legs. It took about a minute for her to detach and remove the hard ceramic-and-alumnisteel armor, resting each piece as she would have done in her armor locker until all she stood in was her black combat undersuit. Sara took the University of Serrice jumpsuit, unfastening the torso's joiners at the flank as she slipped on the synthetic fabric one-piece jumpsuit, pulling it up from her feet and slipping her arms through the armlets before refastening the joiners along her left ribs. The jumpsuit was sized for an Asari, and was a little bit too long in the arms and legs, and certainly too big in the bust and hips. Well, at least it wasn't so form-fitting that one could count the freckles indentions. Ryder stepped from behind the partition to see that the Professor was casually sitting in a folding chair, awaiting. Irissa gave her a warm smile as the Petty Officer reappeared.

"That will certainly do for feasting, Chief." Irissa gave her a nod as she stood from the chair. "Feasting will be a simple but intellectual affair that I believe you might find quite enjoyable. The debates are simply entertaining." That had Sara chuckle as she imagined Doctors and Scientists arguing over a dinner table over obscure calculations and opinions on findings, using verbose words that would send everyone else to their scientific dictionaries and thesauruses.

"Looking forward to it."

* * *

Dinner had been as entertaining as Professor Irissa T'vara had suggested, and Petty Officer Sara Ryder had found the experience both enlightening and enjoyable. A mess tent had been set up for several pack-styled benches for meals, along with a couple of portable air conditioning units to drop the collective temperature a few degrees Celcius, making it more comfortable. There were a hundred and nine people at Dig Site Alpha, ranging from fully-accredited Doctors, College-aged interns completing credits, and laborers who took care of the less-than important job such as clearing rubble, marking locations, and hauling. There were only a few Human Doctors and researchers from Oxford University, considering that most Human Protheantologists were likely at the Mars Archives, still exploiting the site even after thirty-five years. There were four Human-oriented Doctors and about six undergraduates in total. The rest of the thirty or so Humans were either laborers, catalogers, or forensic researchers. Only a third of the dig site population was Human, the rest being from the University of Serrice. Most of the laborers for the Asari University were Turians and male Salarians, which wasn't surprising, really. There were a couple of Hanar with Drell accompanying them, as well as one Volus; probably a financier or investor of some kind. Sara couldn't see the suited Irunian digging or working heavy equipment in a pressure suit filled with chlorine atmo, honestly.

Sara had sat across from Professor Irissa T'vara, considering she was the only person in the dig site that the Petty Officer had spent time with, as well as being the expeditionary leader. Ryder did spy Doctor Lysana M'ala move through the mess tent, staring daggers at the Corpsman, which perturbed her not at all. Doctor Liara T'soni sat by herself, interestingly enough. One would think that with her love of all things Prothean and a couple of Hanar present, they would be chatting up a storm. The Humans all occupied their own little clique, and Sara noted a few dark looks from them in her direction. The Petty Officer realized that with the University of Serrice jumpsuit on, they wouldn't know her to be a member of the Systems Alliance Navy. All they saw was a Human associating with _others_ during a meal. Evidently, a no-no. Sara wasn't here to pick sides.

"As I understand it," an old Turian male sat next to Professor T'vara, also wearing the same style of jumpsuit, though made for a Turian's proportions, "you went and inspected our equipment for mandatory safety regulation procedures." Ah, the old _Torin_ was addressing her. "It is good to see that someone sees to their duties without fear of reprisal. Doctor Hortus Antanin, Xenopaleotechnology." As Sara understood it, that meant that he was a Doctor of Prothean computer systems and devices. "And you are…?"

"Petty Officer, Third Class Sara Ryder, Systems Alliance Navy." Sara dipped her head politely as she addressed the Turian Doctor. "I am a Navy Corpsman, our version of a Frontline Barber-Surgeon. I did the checks because this is a worksite, and worksites sadly have a lot of mishaps and incidental injuries due to negligence and arrogance."

"This is true." Doctor Antanin replied as he began to eat at his own food, doing so with his talons, as Turians did. They never developed utensils, using their talons to pluck and tear into their food. "Been at more than a few digs where there are injuries due to badly-constructed apparatuses and mishandling of equipment. If they can be reduced, then you will have done your job better than just merely treating an injury when it occurs."

"A gram of prevention prevents a kilogram of cure." Sara quoted, getting both the Turian Doctor and Asari Professor to nod in agreement. "There will be injuries, sadly. But if I can keep it below the statistic, and hopefully keep the medical emergencies down to zero, then I'd say that we've all done our jobs right. Everyone is responsible for another's safety, after all." Again, she had the both of them nodding. The Systems Alliance Military had a saying equating the same thing; _everyone is a safety officer_. Great in words, not so much in practice, though. "So as I understand it, this was a Prothean Imperial Government Complex?"

"That is what we believe, yes." Irissa began, smiling. "Of course, this is based upon circumstantial evidence. Sadly, the Protheans forgot to place a placard or a sign on the site to identify it."

"Wasn't that true of the Cit as well? When the first Asari explorers discovered it?" Sara was enchanted with Early Citadel History. She loved reading about the _Hespera_ and Thessinaut Commander Dalanasa T'mori, the Asarikin Mission Commander responsible for not only the discovery of the gigantic Prothean space station, but to be the first sapient to grace it in fifty millennium. The event had been heavily documented and recorded, and Sara had viewed the public records many times, trying to imagine the Citadel devoid of life, without shops or businesses, without people living inside. How brave those Asari explorers must have been! They had been like Dad; risk-takers, willing to dare the unknown for the _chance_ at being first to see something incredible, be it a new planet or phenomenon. Dad had been the Ground Commander for the _Excelsior,_ the first man to walk upon an extrasolar planet, and both Sara and Scott had absolutely _ate_ those stories up when they were kids, listening to him talk about landing on Demeter, planting the very first colonial beacon, putting the first spade into its earth. Her father was a hero in more ways than one. Many more ways, honestly. "Almost makes you wonder what if we got it all wrong. Protheans rolling in their graves, scoffing at us all. 'Bah! Silly primitives, they think that is a research facility'." Sara mimed, putting on a snobby air as she deepened her voice for the pantomime. "'It is obviously a bathhouse.'" That had Doctor Antanin chuckling while Professor T'vara merely smiled while shaking her head. "Still, even guessing with circumstantial evidence, it's exciting to think that we're still discovering ProTech and sites like this after all this time. I think it's honorable that we do our best to try and paint a recreation of what the Protheans were, to unearth and recreate their existence. They were our progenitors, our predecessors. They left so much behind, I think it's only fair that we do something in return."

"A very noble view, Chief." Irissa replied, a large smile upon her face. "Sadly, I feel that most have forgotten such views, replacing them with some more-modern opiate that does little to advance us in any way. Tens of thousands of years of evolution and cultural advancement, and the most visited page on UPDATR is who is wearing what." The scorn in her voice was thick enough to fill a canister with. Obviously, she wasn't one of _those_ Asarikin. Ryder personally stayed away from UPDATR, the popular ExtraNet site that was constantly updating with the newest news, fashions, happenings, and controversies. It was about as impressive to her as its Human equivalent, TWITR. Sara had better things to do.

"Still, it's exciting seeing an actual Prothean ruin form the inside. Considering I was technically born and raised in one, I'm glad I still get goosebumps at the thought." Ryder said, looking at the ceiling of the cavern in which the expeditions' temporary living area was located.

"You were born on the Citadel?" The Asari Professor asked, a little surprised.

"Firstborn, in fact." She informed them, and Irissa T'vara looked a little shocked at the news. Sara was only twenty-years old, and for someone like the Professor, that probably didn't seem so long ago. "Lived on the Cit my entire life until I joined the Navy. It's interesting to see the architectural differences between the Citadel and the Dig Site. But then again, one was built in space, and the other in an earthquake-friendly lavaball. Bound to be some differences."

* * *

"So, this is home." Petty Officer Sara Ryder opened the pre-fab transportation container that was the clinic, showing Professor Irissa T'vara her new digs. It was past sunset at Dig Site Alpha, and Knossos had relented its murderous gaze upon that portion of Therum. The temperatures were now a balmy forty degrees Celcius instead of fifty-five, and long-term exposure outside was actually survivable, even sustainable. An hour ago, several laborers had been tasked with the removal of the equipment stored in the clinic, and a portable generator had been set up. Her clinic now had a few ceiling lights, an air conditioning unit, and a great deal of space. It wasn't a clinic yet, but tomorrow that would change. Her storage lockers had been left alone, and she would be setting up the bare basics. By the next day, she should be able to run a dispensary. By the end of the week, Ryder should be able to do full check-ups, perform trauma care operations, and have the necessary equipment and supplies to fully do her job, both for the Dig Site and the Marines. "It's not much now, but give me a few days and some cans of spit and polish, and it will suffice."

"What was the quote your people have? 'Necessity is the mother of all inventions?'" T'vara said, a small smile upon her teal lips, making Sara chuckle in response. "It seems that you have done your best to endeavor yourself with the necessities in a quick amount of time. It is good to see that you take your duties seriously. Few show such dedication."

"I… have spent years to get here, honestly." Ryder looked to the Asari, who stood inside the container with her as Sara opened up the first storage locker, filled with check-up and diagnostic equipment, such as a monitoring apparatus for pulse, breath rate, blood pressure, and pulse oximeter. "Volunteered as a Paramedic when I was still in school back on the Cit, doing three hours a day while going to the Presidium Academy. Joined the Navy as a Corpsman, and attached myself to a vessel's Marine detachment so I could get recommended for Fleet Marine Corpsman. That took two years of training, physical exercise, hammering myself to become better at my job while working alongside my Marines to be like them as well. Earned a healthy rep for myself, they called me TBG; toughest bitch in the galaxy." That had the Asari shaking her head slightly, obviously amused. "I pushed myself to do better, to be better. I did better than the other Corpsman, I pushed myself harder than the Marines, and I was always the first to have my hand up to volunteer when it came to ranges, training, exercises, and operations. It was an uphill battle every step of the way, but this is where I wanted to be. My only real enemy was myself, and I conquered it every day."

"Good. Good for you, and wise of you to recognize as such." The Professor replied as she took a seat on one of the unopened storage lockers as Sara set up the cardiogram monitoring device. "When I was a Sister, I elected to be a Hospitaller because I felt I had something more to offer than just as a Commando or a Huntress. I, too, pushed myself forward, wishing to earn the respect of my fellow Commandos. Wherever they were, I would be standing next to them, fighting their enemies and striving to keep my Sisters alive though the worst, be it in battle or wounds."

"It isn't a profession, it's a calling." Ryder replied as she turned from the storage locker, pulling out an intravenous tree. "The Void? Houxin? The Spirit Eater? The Grim Reaper? I don't care what his name is, but it's my personal mission to make sure that when it comes to my Marines, he goes empty-handed." The smile on Irissa's face was both wide and bright. Sara saw the Professor stand from the storage locker, moving towards her with that smile. The young Human woman certainly wasn't expecting for the Asari to take her hands gently, bringing her up from her kneeling position from the opened storage locker she was rummaging through. Sara felt herself shivering slightly as those blue hands went from her own to around her waist, pulling her in slightly as she felt weak and unsteady, those hands keeping her steady as Irissa moved forward gently.

And kissed her.

Sara was a little shocked by the sensation of soft lips against her own, a slight tingling sensation playing over her lips as the arms pulled her in gently, embracing her. She felt weak at the knees as Sara grabbed onto the Asari's shoulders to keep from falling, a soft noise coming from her throat as she held on, feeling the warmth of a body pressing into her own. The kiss was long and soft, and Sara had her eyes closed the whole time as she felt overpowered by it all, giving in into the act. The tingling sensation spread from her lips and rippled through her body, a pleasant electricity that had her whole body quivering for the briefest of moments. Oh Lord, she was turning into jelly! The kiss ended, and Sara felt as if her head was being almost pulled along as the Asari looked at her, already missing that wonderful sensation. Ryder was panting slightly, still clutching at Irissa's shoulders, looking at her, shocked at what had just happened.

"I… wasn't expecting that." Sara wasn't sure what she meant, the words just tumbling out. It could have meant the kiss, or how it felt. "I've never been kissed by an Asari before." That came out in a hushed tone, as if someone might overhear her declaration. Sara was truly noticing just how close they were, the Professor with her arms around her waist, Sara with her hands holding onto the top of the Asari's shoulders, their bodies pressed together softly. She hadn't been anywhere this intimate with anyone in quite some time, and the surprise of it and the closeness of it had Sara aching.

"Was it not to your liking?" T'vara asked her softly, her voice a little sultry. Sara was keenly aware that one of Irissa's hands was slowly sliding from her waist to up to her back, holding her a little closer, supporting her. Sara was having trouble standing, trouble breathing. Hell, she was having trouble _thinking!_

"It was quite enjoyable." Ryder admitted in a rush, clutching at the Asari, the ache in her growing. Two years spent on a ship with plenty of eye-candy to choose from, but Sara hadn't broken her rule about relationships and crew members. One kiss from an Asari, and she was putty! "I…" Sara looked into Irissa's eyes, finding herself a little lost in those cyan depths.

The next kiss came, obliterating whatever thought Sara might have had.

The tingle this time was a little stronger, a little deeper as their lips met, and Sara practically melted in the Asari's embrace as she felt herself losing control to it. Those warm lips were so hard to pull away from, so soft and intoxicating as Sara latched onto Irissa, feeling their bodies pressing more firmly into one another as the rippling sensation that she once felt surged through her again, bringing a warmth and pleasantness to every nerve in her body. The young woman cried out from the sensation, caught in her throat as she felt her back being pressed against as wall. The ache within her grew teeth, gnawing at her as the Corpsman moaned as one kiss blended into the next, swept away by the act. Her hand slipped around the back of Irissa's neck for support and closeness, feeling the soft folds that laid them as Irissa purred softly at the touch. _Oh God, is this really happening?_

"I need a breather!" Sara pulled away, gasping as she disconnected from Irissa, having to come up for air as she realized just how close they really were. There was no denying that they were in a lover's embrace, the Asari having pressed Sara against a wall. She hadn't even realized that one of her hands was pressed against the wall in a submissive manner as she held onto Irissa, the Protheantologist's own hands cupping her face as her blue body pressed into Sara's own. The ache in her was fierce, and quite angry at the sudden break. "Sorry, I…" She was still gasping slightly as she looked to Irissa, who was looking at her fondly, not pressuring her or looking aggravated at all. "Am… am I doing this? Is this really happening? I…" It was like cold water on her soul as Sara realized that she was in the arms of an _alien_ , in a rather intimate way as well. Not only was she allowing it to happen, she had been enjoying it, too. A few more moments more of that wonderful tingling sensation, of those soft lips, of those caressing hands, and Sara would have drowned in it and never come back. "I certainly didn't expect… _that_."

"Biotics certainly add a zest to it, do they not?" The Asari said with a smile, and Sara felt a little shocked that the Protheantologist knew that she was a Biotic.

"Is that what that… tingling sensation was?" The sensation had been like fuel on the fire of lust. God, she had almost went overboard! It certainly never felt like that with anyone else, ever.

"Just a taste, but yes."

"There's… more?" Oh, that ache just twisted deep inside of her, and Sara was having trouble ignoring. It was just throbbing within her, mindless and insistent. She was still in the Asari's arms, still being held against the wall, still very much vulnerable and doing nothing to change that.

"Oh yes, fair one." Irissa smiled, her cyan eyes looking at her with a mixture of kindness and want. "There is indeed more. And better." One of her thumbs softly traced Sara's lower lip, and the young woman felt the slightest touch of that tingling sensation dancing upon her lip as the thumb traced the outline of her full lips, going from the bottom, curving around the corner of her mouth, and moving to her upper lip. Sara couldn't help herself as she parted her lips and took the very tip of Irissa's thumb and pursed her lips upon it, sliding her lips off of it as her eyes stayed on Irissa's. Oh God, had she just done what she thought she did? But the sensation that had been delivered to her lips when she had done so had been electrifying, and that ache had sharpened, contorting hard in her belly. She opened her lips again and slipped them over the thumb once more, pursing them around the first knuckle as she dragged her lips along the soft, fine-scaled flesh of Irissa's digit, gliding it down to the tip before her lips slipped off. Sara was shivering, caught in that embrace, losing herself to the sensations and her own desires.

Now she understood completely what all those trashy romance e-novels were talking about when they said 'a moment of weakness'.

"I… I need… to stop." Ryder breathed out huskily, barely able to force the words out as she looked to the Professor who held her so tenderly… _no, don't think that!_

"It is not a problem." The Asari replied softly, looking a little concerned. "Are you well?"

"I've… never been with anyone not my kind. Please don't take that the wrong way!" Sara quickly interjected, afraid she might have said something wrong. "I just… I grew up on the Cit, and most of the Asari that I knew were really immature and… probably not the best examples of your species. And… not… entirely comfortable." She winced at that admission, knowing that she likely just shoved a foot in her mouth. That ache deep within her was screaming something fierce, and God she had damn near caved in. "I'm not the kind of girl who just puts out on the first date, it's just been quite some times since I've been with anybody." _Fuck! Did I just say that out loud to a complete stranger?_ "And I'm blathering."

"You are being vulnerable because you were caught off-guard and unaware." Irissa placed a gentle hand upon Sara's cheek, giving her a measure of comfort. "I would not take advantage of you or what you have shared with me. If you wish time to collect yourself and examine what you want, I will not chide you or pressure you into a decision that you are not in agreement with personally."

"I would like that." Sara answered, her voice barely able to make it out of her mouth. God, she had been so _close_ , one part of her thrilled while another was alarmed. This smacked of stupid on so many levels, but talking to T'vara was quite enjoyable, someone who showed passions and intellectual endeavors, someone who wasn't just interested in sex, video games, and drinking like most Marines were. Besides, Ryder had a really good rule; no one in her unit or vessel. Technically, Irissa didn't violate it, but Sara hadn't felt any interest for Asari before. Then again, she was use to either tizzy Maidens or snobbish Matriarchs. The Professor was… different, in a wholesome way at that. "I just… all the Human that I've seen with Asari on the Cit were… practically pets or objects of gratification. I am most certainly not either, nor do I seek to be."

"In that, you have no worries." The Asari replied with a smile. "I do not seek something to merely answer my base needs. I seek someone with a personality, someone with values and goals, someone worth sharing with on both sides. I love what I do, and I would like to share it with someone who can appreciate my efforts and endeavors, while being able to listen to the same beliefs in what a partner enjoys."

"A real relationship, in other words. Something mutual." Sara pointed out.

"Exactly." Irissa smiled. "I know that perhaps being Asari makes it easier for myself to seek others not of my species, so I do respect the fact that you are not so easily swayed, that you will take the time to find it in yourself what you wish. That speaks quite well of you, fair one. Your male kin are perhaps a bit _too_ eager to flaunt and embarrass themselves." That had Ryder chuckle.

"I've noticed." Sara surprised herself by leaning forward to give the Asari a chaste kiss upon her cheek. "I… very much enjoyed sharing my time with you, Irissa. Listening to you talk of your profession was truly fascinating, and almost makes me want to grab a pickax and start digging." That had the Dean smile. "I'd probably strike quartz long before I found anything useful. The only veins I'm good at finding contain blood." That had the former Hostpitaller laughing softly. "I think it would be best that I say goodnight here and now before I do something thoughtlessly and have no one but myself to blame."

"Then I shall bid you good eve, Chief." Irissa lightly touched her forehead to Sara's own.

* * *

Author's Notes: I thought it somewhat funny making Liara the Asari version of the conspiracy theorist, like the blue alien chick version of Agent Fox Mulder of the X-Files (and… I just showed how old I am).

Sara is a Biotic, as Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder had been conducting Biotic research before the twins were born, and likely was exposed to minuscule amounts of Eezo while pregnant without realizing. Considering she (almost) died of ANED, Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy, that explains why Sara (and also Scott) will be Biotically capable. While Biotic were a possibility in Andromeda, they really didn't get into as much save for Cora's whining about being an overclocked Biotic (and perhaps under the impression she was some peach-skinned Asari)

No, Sara isn't a Vanguard. She will actually be a Sentinel, with Tech Armor and Barriers. So a medic meatshield.

Liara, realistically, could not have been alone on Therum. Anyone who knows anything about digs and archeology knows that it is a host of a team of specialties, along with workers and laborers, researchers and catalogers, financiers and porters, and everything in between. There was, after all, evidence on Therum that the Site was occupied and adapted for the current cycle of sapients, though only Liara was found.


	3. Dig Site Alpha, III

_BioWare; cuttlefish abound!_

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, May 30, 2183**

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder had a routine set up now that she had her Clinic up-and-running to a fair degree, having a decent basic Dispensary set-up with a good nod towards minor medical emergencies. While she couldn't exactly perform surgery, almost any real Hospital Corpsman could stitch and sew wounds, as well as making emergency surgical procedures for removal of any life-threatening disease, illness, injury, or foreign object. She had all the necessary equipment for a routine check-up for a Human Being, and could make do for an Asari, a Salarian, and a Turian thanks to a few downloads of basic medical care and first aid manuals for those species. Hanar, sadly, would likely be out of her scope, the aquatic species having several internal organs that she knew little about, as well as a couple of biological systems that were more oriented towards living in water, and thus Sara having zero experience with. Turians might have different shaped lungs, but lungs and airways were still the same system. Oxygen-filtering gills? Ryder wasn't a zoologist.

Hopefully, the poor Volus didn't rupture his suit. There was nothing she could do for the poor guy if he ruptured and exploded from the too-low atmo.

Mornings began with pre-light physical training with the Marines, in which Doc joined in with the boys, doing pull-ups, crunches, and sprints with the Marines, along with a variety of other exercises with the platoon-sized element. After PT, she added a thirty-minute regimen more oriented towards her being a Corpsman, hauling a Navy SeaBag filled with Therum sand weighing in at one hundred kilos, simulating carrying a body off a battlefield. She would pick it up and shoulder it on each shoulder five times each with the three carries; shoulder, back, and bridal. She then did wind sprints with the bag, running one hundred meter dashes back and forth three times. For the finale, she clipped the SeaBag to a carrying harness and dragged the weight across the surface in the same manner, doing three hundred meters. By the time she was done, Sara was grimy, sweaty, and feeling like she needed to puke a little. A clear sign that she had pushed herself beyond her normal limit, as intended.

Shower and breakfast came after PT, in which Ryder joined the Day Shift Marines for chow, eating in the galley set in the barracks, enjoying Unified Ground Rations, Edible, known as UGRE's; section-sized meals where the only thing required was the ability to boil water and waiting a certain length of time since there were no Navy Cooks deployed on Therum with the Marines. Doc was beginning to learn about her Marines; their names, their preferences, who had wives and girlfriends, and who could be taken seriously. Most of the Privates, Private First Classes, and Lance Corporals were around her age, having served from anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of years. For many of them, it was their first ground-side deployment, having been stationed on Fifth Fleet, aboard one of the deployable Troop Corvettes. For the NCO's, there was more experience and bolstering, along with the addition of yelling and testosterone required out of a more experienced Marine. Not one of them was quiet or calm; it was like living with a pack of hungry monkeys in a zoo. Still, Sara eased into it, integrating with her platoon as she listened to the stories and lies, laughed at the jokes and screw-ups, and talked as much shit as the next Marine.

Day Shift, like Night Shift, consisted of duties, the main one being Site Security. Eighteen Marines were on each shift, and fifteen of them were stationed at the various defensive points around Dig Site Alpha, fortified bunkers that included anti-air and anti-space weaponry, such as small GARDIAN laser batteries and Gauss Linear Acceleration Heavy Machine Guns, the nomenclature being the Kh-29's, but generally called Railguns. The other three Marines, all NCO's were responsible for communications, monitoring, orders, and updating intelligence that might come from Arcturus Station, the Admiralty Board, or Fifth Fleet. The only two exemptions to the Shifts were Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson and herself. Gunny Halverson, being the Commanding Officer of Red Platoon, handled the administration portion, letting his junior NCO's run the platoon and troops. Ryder, as the Corpsman, couldn't be put on guard duty or a variety of other duties in case of a medical emergency and leaving a position undermanned. Instead, she had medical duties, which consisted of running the Clinic, keeping medical records updated, and making sure that her supplies and equipment were fully-functional and fully stocked. She would inquire about the general health of the Marines for the Day Shift before the shift change, and then for the Marines coming off the Night Shift before they went for 'dinner' in the morning.

Sara's day consisted of several tasks and duties to keep herself both occupied and working. She would work in the Tactical Operations Command Room for an hour or so along with the Sergeant of the Guard and the other two Marines, helping out in little ways where they might need it. When the SOG would do his checks, moving through the Dig Site perimeter to check on the separate defensive points, Sara would go with him, checking up on the Marines to make sure that they were hydrated as well as to acclimate herself to the hellish environment of Therum. After the rounds, she would head to the Dig Site Clinic to 'open' it up, the workday officially beginning for the expedition about an hour prior. She would enter the Dig Site itself to make sure that there weren't any injuries or illnesses to report, looking on the various sections of the Dig to make sure that all was going well and that the workers weren't doing anything dangerous that might cause any injuries.

Sara did her midday meal with the expeditionary members, picking a different table each day to talk to the various people involved in the Dig Site, learning a little bit more about the people as well as their specialties. She wore her Systems Alliance-issued Alliance Blues when she went into the Dig Site, taking off her Sirta Foundation's Phoenix Light Medic Armor after entering the environmentally-controlled site to better identify herself. She spent up to two to three hours at the Dig Site before making her way back to the Clinic, putting in a few hours studying on xeno-trauma care and updating any records as she looked through the medical transcripts that she had received from Professor Irissa T'vara. There was another round with the SOG, another check-in with the Dig Site, dinner with the Marines, correspondence courses with ENavyU for college credits, military education courses relating to the medical field for schools and training that she had started on the SSV _Charger_. After a few personal messages to her Dad, her brother, her Auntie, and Staff Sergeant John Brennen and a few other Marines from the C _harger_ , Sara would finally allow herself to fully relax for the evening, taking another shower before slipping off into her personal bunkspace to read her Bible before going to bed.

The days and nights reinforced the routine as Sara got comfortable with her settings and surroundings, joking with the Marines and beginning to pick out the various members of the Expeditionary Team at the Dig Site. A few scrapes and scratches came to her attention from her Marines and a few of the workers, but nothing more was needed than disinfectant and some bandaging. One Marine came down with a gastrointestinal parasite, and Sara prepared herself for the potential of half-a-dozen more cases of what everyone affectionately called 'the Therum shits'. Ryder ordered the appropriate medicines to help combat the parasite, knowing that a ten-day regimen with four to eight potential victims would go right through her supply in no time with three doses a day. It was part of her job, of course, but Sara could do without the thought of half-a-dozen bellyaching Marines with diarrhea.

Then there was Irissa.

After that first encounter, Sara spent almost an entire day thinking of the situation. It wasn't that she wasn't intrigued, but… Sara had never thought herself attracted to anyone else other than her own kind, and certainly didn't go for Human women. The possibility had just never occurred to her. Could… could she have a relationship with an non-Human? Was that something she would even be interested in? Sara thought of the few Asari she did know, mostly acquaintances from the Cit. Most of the Maidens were shallow, transparent, and flaunted their views of Thessian superiority upon anyone within listening distance. Irissa wasn't like that at all, not even acting like the decadent Asari Matriarchs in the Cit, either. The Professor was a female who loved her profession, who enjoyed espousing upon ideas and cultures not merely her own, and listened to others. She was respectful and respectable, and Sara had to admit that there was an attraction there, something that shocked her a little bit. Perhaps it was because she felt as if she had found someone of similar thoughts and values, something like an equal.

Was that even possible, with a Matriarch and a Human like herself?

One evening, before going to bed, Ryder Chirped he Protheantologist to ask her just that.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

R U there? Can we talk?

Sara felt her get clench a little, wondering how the message would be perceived. While she hadn't really 'avoided' the Professor, she hadn't sought her out or talked to her about anything other than work-related topics the five minutes she did hold a conversation with her in front of a couple of colleagues. She still wasn't exactly sure how she felt, but she would at least talk to the Asari honestly.

A message came back a few minutes later.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Of course. Are you well?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Yes, TY 4 asking. I just wanted 2 talk.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Face-2-face is better. But I thought things over.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

This isn't easy for me. Just wanted 2 put that out.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I understand. Just so you know, we all go through it.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Even Asari.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

That's a little reassuring, actually!

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I'm just nervous, I guess. I have questions, concerns.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Grew up on the Cit, and I know what I saw there. That isn't something I want 4 myself.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

This was suppos person. Ugh!

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

You are being honest. There is nothing wrong with that.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Perhaps better 'in person', but I would rather you feel assured in what you wish for.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I…

Sara wasn't sure what to say, seeing the cursor blinking as her fingers hovered over the Haptic keyboard of her connected datapad, looking at the messages.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I want 2 try.

It took a lot of courage to hit the 'send' button. A _lot_ of courage. Sara hadn't been this nervous when she brought her first date home to meet her N7 father. And that had been a real nerve-wrecker.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I'm so fumbling this. But I want 2 try.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Fumbling?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Human sports term. When U try 2 catch a ball but end up juggling it and dropping it. Makes U look like an idiot.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Feel like I'm fumbling a little. Not sure what 2 say. Or do.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

We have all been there too, fair one.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Even me.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

You are the first of your species that I have felt enough to try.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I enjoy our conversations. The look in your eye when you speak of your job and duties.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

In my culture, we call that _shar'tari_ ; the drive of passion.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

You push yourself and strive in the service of others. It is a wonder to behold.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

U got me 2 blush a lil there.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

But I feel the same way. I think I could listen 2 U talk about ur work 4 hours.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

It's almost like being there. I bet U can fill a lecture hall with students and colleagues.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I may have been known to do that a time or two.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

It is a joy to talk to someone who listens and interacts. Not just in Protheantology.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I will not lie, fair one. I did not think I would find one of your kind enchanting. Too many bad examples?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Everyone has their saints and sinners. We have more than R fair share.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

So I'm enchanting, huh?

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Yes.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

If it makes you feel better, fair one, I am nervous, too.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I wouldn't necessarily say that it makes me feel better, but I guess… a little more appreciative?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

We'd call it 'being Human'. I can't think of another analogy. Sorry.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

We have the same analogy.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

'Being closer to ones' kind', which amounts to the same thing, I believe.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I am glad that you are willing to try. I was afraid that I was perhaps too forward.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I am unsure what the first steps are for a Human.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

No one got anywhere without being a little bit brave.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

And kissing certainly isn't a bad way to start.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I'd like to see you tomorrow.

Sara winced at that. It sounded so lame. But it was true.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

I would like that as well.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

Very much so.

That had Sara's breath catch in her throat a little. Yes, she wanted to visit the Asari, but she could easily remember what their last visit had consisted of… and where it had almost lead to. She didn't doubt that if she had another visit with the Protheantologist, it would likely end up continuing where they had left off… and going further. Sara couldn't lie to herself; being the Asari's embracing arms, the feel of her lips, the tingling sensation of her Biotics upon her lips, the way she had been pressed against the wall? The young woman knew that, deep down, women were thrilled at the thought of submitting to a more dominate partner, to be taken like a cherished conquest. Just thinking of it gave Ryder a little bit of the shivers, and it wasn't unpleasant at all.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Then I shall see you tomorrow, Irissa. Sleep well, Professor.

 **IrissaT'Vara**

ProtheanDeanUniSerrice

And to you as well, fair one.

 _User has logged off._

* * *

The next evening, after her nighttime workout and supper with the Marines, Petty Officer Sara Ryder took a few minutes to meet with Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson, shooting the shit with the Commanding Officer of Red Platoon before begging off to work on her correspondence courses through ENavyU, working on her Associates Degree in Systems Technology at the University of Arcturus Distance Learning Program at the Clinic. Sara always had a head for programming languages and systems software programming, and had written more than a few to optimize her schoolwork and quite a few hacks and mods for her twin brother Scott's near-obsession with Full-Dive MMORPG's. She had actually already written a better GUI VI on-board systems management program for her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Medic Armor for better attenuation for environment and combat operations, re-regulating and making more efficient the power distribution towards the armor's systems, cutting down on waste bleed and getting a few extra gigaHertz out of the protein chip-based on-board processors.

Sara had been toying with the idea of a distribution delivery system of OmniGel to encase the high-tempered ceramic-and-alumnisteel plates in another layer of hardened protection, like another layer of ablative coating upon the armor to absorb more kinetic force, chipping and shattering away to prevent round penetration. While the concept wasn't exactly NextGen, what she wanted was to install a management program that would deliver OmniGel into the cracks and damage in the fabricated layer of defense, 'healing' it by injecting more OmniGel to seal and patch the damage. Sara ran a few calculations on the project, which she just coined 'Tech Armor', and found that she could possibly double the amount of kinetic force absorption. For a Corpsman, who might have to run into the line of fire to pull out a wounded Marine? That was a boon! Integrating it into another Marine's armor would theoretically make them last twice as long as a force-multiplier. She had come up with the idea on the SSV _Charger_ , and had worked out a few ideas on a sketch app, throwing in a few numbers and calculations to help support her idea and find flaws. What she needed were OmniGel distribution nodules installed into a set of armor and test it out, tweaking the system settings and modifying the program for combat purposes. It would require armor modifications for the nodules and delivery system, disposable cannisters of OmniGel integrated into the armor, and a practical field test. Sara wasn't looking forward to the thought of a live-fire exercise with her as a guinea pig.

Her weekly classes for UArc finish, Sara was working on the projected schematic of her Phoenix Light Medic Armor on her datapad, using the three-dimensional wireframe exploded view to detail how to make the Tech Armor work. She had already placed distribution nodules in between the chest plate and shoulder pauldrons, and then another set in between the lower portion of the chest plate and the fauld of the hips to cover the upper torso. Networking the four nodules to work together was a bit of a pain in the ass, since Sara wanted to deliver a directed layer of OmniGel over the chest plate, not an explosion of goop that might immobilize her arms and slather her in a ridiculous fashion. The code needed for it was a bit of a humdinger, needing the dimensions of the chest plate, the varying planes and angels, as well as the hypothetical thickness of the OmniGel layer. Ryder didn't want the OmniGel layer so thick that she couldn't perform her job or magnetically seal her equipment upon her armor, nor did she want the OmniGel to harden over her medical pouches and ammo block pouches, either. It was a work in progress.

There was a knock on her door.

"It's open!" Sara called out, still looking at the exploded wireframe as she looked at the wiring schematic that she had added for the four OmniGel nodes, seeing how she had them set _around_ the armor, avoiding the seals as she barely heard the door to the Clinic opening as she shifted the wires a little more inside the chestpiece of the armor. It would certainly reduce the needed materials, and it actually decreased the power usage by a fraction of a percent, according to the Engineering VI program she had written up a year or so back for such ideas. She saved the new design, wondering if there was a better location for the nodules other than _in between_ armor pieces. She didn't want to just start hacking off pieces of armor, though…

"That is an interesting concept."

"Oh!" Sara was a little surprised to hear the voice of Professor Irissa T'vara as she turned to see the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies looking at her design. The Asari Matriarch was wearing her University jumpsuit uniform, standing at a polite distance away as her eyes looked upon the exploded wireframe view of the Phoenix armor. "I totally apologize! I was engrossed in my pet project!"

"This looks to be… armor modifications for a dispersal system." Irissa took a step or two forward, folding one arm across her chest while tapping a finger thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Fire suppression?" Sara's eyes went wide at that thought. She had honestly never considered that she could, in fact, disperse _other_ chemicals and bonding agents!

"Irissa! You're a _genius_!" Sara quickly added a side note to her design, adding the words 'flame retardation possibility', and then added right underneath it 'smokescreen dispersion'. The delivery system would be perfect for Coremen and Damage Control on Naval Vessels, where the threat of fire and chemical reactions were always a concern. A Fireman in armor able to enter an area and provide a wide-area flame-retardation chemical could save lives and systems, further saving a ship while keeping his hands free. Likewise, a Corpsman could literally run into a _fire_ to pull out a potential or actual victim, dousing them with the same chemicals to prevent further burns. "I never considered Damage Control or Firefighters, but this would be perfect for them. It would keep their hands free to work while protecting them from fire, not to mention rescue teams able to fight fires and pull out casualties at the same time! Ha! Even if my idea for the OmniGel armor layer doesn't work, this alone is worth the time and effort. This will save lives!" Ryder was all smiles as she looked at T'vara, who looked at her with amusement.

"You conduct yourself with honor, fair one, seeking means to help others even if you are not around." The Asari smiled at her, and Sara felt her cheeks heating up a little. "OmniGel armor, though. It has been tried before, but I see that you are making a self-sealing system so that it is not merely replaceable plate applications that require changing for each mission. You intend for it to repair itself in battle."

"And you don't need to put it on before every mission." Ryder replied, pointing to the diagram, where one of the nodules was located. "The idea is that a Marine or a Corpsman can do any kind of mission, never needing to activate it if it isn't required. But the possibility of having it will always be there in case things go wrong or strange. Much like a Biokinetically-projected Barrier that we Biotics can use to give us another layer of defense." To that, the Protheantologist nodded. "But what I wanted was for one for the common trooper, twice the protection without necessarily adding twice the armor or cost. I'm playing with the thickness and kinetic absorption rates, as well as the perimeters and time required for distribution and hardening. I want the possibility of someone on a routine mission from going from standard protection to a much better degree when required, increasing their survivability and effectiveness. Something like this can translate to C-SEC and Law Enforcement Agencies, various militaries, Protection Service Agents, even politicians and persons who might be under threat of assassination."

"It is usually more difficult to improve armor than it is to improve a weapon, but this… this is certainly something that can be of extreme benefit." Again, the Asari regarded the diagram, studying it. "Have you considered the possibility of pushing the OmniGel _through_ the armor at a molecular level? It would localize the repairs, and create an evenly-distributed layer without the necessary processing power necessary for the management system."

"I would need to hand-craft armor for that, start from the ground up." Sara grimaced, having thought of that possibility. "I was aiming more of a general addition towards armor, something that can be installed for less than the price of a heavier armor so that it could be manufactured and distributed to forces without pennypinchers squawking about how much it would cost to save thousands of lives." She had also thought of placing a distribution nodule right in the center of the armor, but that would screw with the armor's physical integrity, pushing some of the hardware around and needing an extra environmental seal around the nodule as well. She wasn't an armorsmith, and she was trying to make a system for more than just herself. The standard Aldrin Lab's set of Onyx Medium Interceptor Armor, the standard issue for Systems Alliance Marines on deployment and missions, cost just over eight thousand credits. Physically altering it would require expertise and credits. No, she was trying to create a sort of under-harness that could be purchased for less than a second set of armor or for the Onyx Heavy Interceptor Armor to be installed as an addition. OmniGel distribution nodules weren't expensive in a singular fashion, so she was trying to figure out how to make a rig with the necessary amount of nodules and hardware, writing a program that would activate it and maintain it for the user. A second set of armor for less than actual cost of another set of armor, for a second chance at life and success.

"So the concept is to be used by someone with armor, where it can be installed without requiring a great deal of expertise." Irissa nodded, looking at the diagram. "Yes, I see it. That is why the OmniGel are placed at the locations where the armor points are not fused together, using a natural soft spot so a common soldier would not ruin their armor trying to make physical alterations to their armor. Is this meant just for the chest piece?"

"Ideally, I want the system to cover the major organs." Ryder pointed out the curiass piece for chest and the back, the pauldrons for the shoulders, the fauld for the hips, and the cuisse for the thighs. "This would cover most every major blood vessel and all the major organs south of the collarbone. The helmet… will be tricky." Sara admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "But I'm sure that if I can get this design right, someone else will take the concept and come up with something similar for the head."

"I believe I see where you came up with this idea; the retrieval of casualties." The Protheantologist studied the blueprint. "Movement to and from cover is done in quick, short bursts for maximum protection and coverage, to keep ones' self out of the line of fire as much as possible. But retrieval always requires a Sister to rush into the fray, exposing themselves to incoming fire to secure the wounded, putting themselves in danger. This… is a rather elegant solution. You obviously developed it with a Biotic Barrier in mind, giving those without Biotics the same level of capabilities and protection, such as your fellow Corpsman. Others would benefit from it as well."

"Can you imagine someone such as you or I with this, with both Biotics and technological defenses to their repertoire?" Sara turned to the Asari, smiling. "We'd be something like a guardian or a sentinel of the battlefield, able to withstand far longer than most anything."

"I can think of a few occasions when something like this would have been welcomed." The way Irissa said it, Sara knew what the Protheantologist meant. The Matriarch was obviously remembering times when danger was at its greatest, and an added layer of protection would have saved the life or lives of her fellow Sister Commandos. The Human woman slipped her hand into the Dean's, giving it a gentle squeeze as the Asari looked at her as Sara gave her a smile.

"If we aren't trying to be better or do better, then they would have given their lives for nothing." Ryder said, remember something that her father had once told her. "I mean, look at you now! You're a Dean at one of the most advanced and illustrious Universities in the entire galaxy, delving into a field that will advance us towards even greater heights. I bet every single one of them would be proud of you, Irissa."

"Thank you." The words were whispered, but the weight behind them was great as the Matriarch slowly pulled Sara closer to her, and Ryder felt her breath catching in her throat slightly as the Asari's arms slid around her into an embrace, holding her. Sara slipped her hands around Irissa's hourglass waist, letting her sink into the embrace as she leaned her head upon the taller beings' shoulder, closing her eyes and losing herself in the pleasantness of it.

"I… I do like this. Feels like I could stay here forever." She felt comfortable in the Asari's arm, the warmth shared by the Thessian's body lulling her into a more relaxed state. At this very moment, Sara was content.

"I would not mind that at all, fair one." The Professor replied softly, nuzzling her softly as Sara lifted her head and felt soft lips introducing themselves onto her own, the tingling sensation that she had experienced before buzzing through her nerves as she gave off a pleased moan, slipping her hands around Irissa into a more binding embrace, holding onto her tightly. She was leaned back slightly as Irissa took command of the situation, slipping into a dominate role as the Petty Officer felt her resolve melting from underneath her. Lord, much more and she would be _pulling_ the Asari onto her. She was lost in that wonderful moment, so ready to give into the passion and pleasure, the small spikes of nervousness and fear in her heart of the normal variety; she didn't want to get used or hurt. It was then that she realized that she truly was willing to try, to let herself be swept off her feet by this Asari Matriarch. If her worries were of the same that she might have with a Human male she were interested in, then she knew that the _other_ fears were simply just excess. It was as her father said; no one got anywhere without being a little bit brave.

And Sara let herself be swept away.

* * *

An alarm woke her up, and set Petty Officer Sara Ryder cursing.

" _Shit!"_ The Corpsman swore as she bolted up from the examination table, seeing her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool light up on her left arm with her morning alarm. Fuck, Morning PT would be starting in thirty minutes, and she was in the Clinic, not in the Barracks. She would have to hustle back to the Barracks, change into PT's and join the Marines with nobody hopefully noticing that she hadn't slept in her bunk the previous night. A look to her right showed her the reason why.

Professor Irissa T'vara laid right next to her, awake and looking at her.

"I'm going to be late for work." She might have been a Non-Commissioned Officer, but punctuality was a requirement. Especially since Red Platoon was deployed to a location that had absolutely nowhere to go. It wasn't like she was going to be running late due to traffic anytime soon. Sara tossed off the cheap medical blanket that had been used to cover themselves up, wincing at the fact that she would have to _fully_ get dressed. She wasn't exactly sure where all of her clothes were. 'Scattered' was a good first guess, though. Her bare feet hit the warm metal of the transportation container that was the Clinic, grateful that there was enough light in the Clinic for her to see in, the main lights having been shut off after a night of pleasurable discovery and exploration. She found her panties draped over the bio-vitals monitoring equipment, and her sports bra hanging off of the IV tree. "You're not going to be late, are you?" Sara asked the Asari, who was still laying on the examination table, laying on her side to watch her as Sara shimmied her panties up her legs and over her hips.

"No, I will not be late, fair one." There was a smile on those cerulean lips, and those cyan eyes watched her as Sara got dressed, slipping her arms through the holes of her sports bra before sliding it down and pulling the elastic band below her breasts. "Are you well about last night?"

"Without trying to sound like some savage, rutting beast?" Sara smiled back at the Protheantologist as she found her socks, laying under the examination table. She was pretty sure her Alliance Blue top had been tossed halfway across the Clinic by none other than herself. "Last night was… mind-blowing. Evidently I've been missing out." That had an amused grin on the Asari's face as Sara slipped on her socks, still looking at her… lover? Paramour? Irissa wasn't some fuckbuddy or friend-with-benefits, that was for sure. Sara enjoyed spending time with her, and had been touched when the Asari had seen her Tech Armor Project and actually studied it, adding insight to it. "It's new to me still, that's for sure. But I very much enjoyed being with you, Irissa. If I didn't have twenty-seven minutes to get dressed, make my way back to the Barracks, and then get changed into PT's, and would love to spend time listening to you while cuddling you. You… you make me feel wanted, for more than just sex."

"That is because I do want you, Sara Ryder." The Dean of Prothean Research and Studies replied. "I enjoy your company, listening to you talk, and watching you listen. I value your presence, and I enjoy spending time with you, fair one." Sara felt like blushing a little as she pulled on her Alliance Blues cargo pants, still trying to find her Underarmor shirt. There it was, right with her blouse. "I would like it if we could spend more time together, but not to where you will be in trouble."

"Yeah, that was my fault." The Corpsman replied honestly, shrugging. "I'll have to work something out. I don't think you visiting the Barracks with three dozen Marines will be something you'd prefer." Actually, it would be Ryder who wouldn't prefer it, and the Professor understood it, thankfully. "Without trying to sound trampy or trashy, I'd rather not have my Marines know about this."

"I do understand. I knew that would likely be the case that first night." The Asari replied, and Sara was more than a little relieved that the issue wouldn't be one filled with drama or explanations. "I would not want you getting into trouble with your species or command structure, fair one. I have no issues with discretion, Chief, as you will need to practice a little yourself. There are those who would like to see me brought low."

"There are always haters." The Petty Officer nodded knowingly, thinking of Doctor Lysana M'ala, the first Asari whom she had met upon visiting Dig Site Alpha. The Matriarch had made her displeasure of Sara's presence quite obvious, sneering at her visibly whenever Ryder was conducting her rounds. Most of the Expeditionary Team seemed to have no issues with the Systems Alliance Navy Corpsman, many greeting her pleasantly whenever she arrived, talking to her amicably and answering her questions. She actually had more issues with the Human members from Oxford University, many of the academic members acting stuffy or smug towards her while the Human laborers were more interested in leering at her. No propriety whatsoever. Sara slipped on her Underarmor shirt before tugging on her blouse, sealing the front magnetically. "Now where are my boots… there they are!" Somehow, they had ended up kicked off, and had landed in opposite corners of the Clinic. She retrieved them, sitting on a nearby chair to pull them on and seal the straps after blousing her pant legs. Now fully dressed, she grabbed her blue beret that had been laid upon her terminal table, slipping it on correctly with the 3/7 MAR crest positioned at the center of her left eye, and the excess pulled over her right ear. "So how do I look?"

"Like a Fleet Marine Corpsman should, Chief." Irissa smiled at her, and Sara found herself quite liking that smile. "Also… late."

"Fuck."

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder had, thankfully, not been late to Morning PT. In fact, no one seemed to have noticed that she hadn't been in the Barracks at all the previous night. Thank the Lord for a partitioned wall and her own 'room', unlike the other Marines in the opened bay area. She was standing with the Day Shift in her blue Navy-monogrammed PT's, the Marines alongside her wearing a darker shade of Blue with the word 'MARINES' monogrammed in black across their chest as oppose to her white 'NAVY'. PT ended up being oriented towards legs and back exercises, and Sara tried not to make a comment tat she had quite a good bit of exercise involving those very same muscle groups several hours before. The last thing she needed was the boys thinking that she had a Deployment Husband or something. Which would be better than the truth.

She didn't need half of them fistbumping her for 'going Blue' and asking a great deal of awkward questions. That was the best-case scenario.

PT and her own workout was finished when Sara entered the showers to wash the sweat and grime off of her as she took a nice, relaxing shower. Her muscles were pleasantly sore from both the workout and the previous night, and she hoped that she wasn't glowing. Lord, she… she had sex with an alien last night, and it had been absolutely _amazing_. A deep part of her had to admit that it had been better than anything she had ever experienced. She showered quickly, going back to her bunk and getting dressed into a clean pair of Alliance Blues Battle Duty Uniform, pushing thoughts of the previous night aside as she prepared for the oncoming day.

Twenty-seven plus hour day, and Sara was wishing that she had gotten a little bit more sleep.

The Petty Officer conducted her day like all the others; having breakfast with the Marines, spending time in the TOC, and conducting her rounds with the SOG. Afterwards, she opened up the Clinic, doing a last minute check to see if anything needed tidying up from the previous night before going to the Dig Site. As was her custom, she went through the Dig Site, meeting with various researchers and laborers, inquiring about needs and any potential injuries. She ended up talking to a few of the Humans from Oxford University, finding out that, like the Marines, one or two somehow managed to catch a gastrointestinal parasite. She asked for the Department Head of the Oxford Team to identify those who were sick so that she could administer to their needs, and to inform herself and anyone that might get sick later on that the Clinic was open and available. Doctor Richard Sanders of Oxford nodded in agreement, and promised to send the two laborers who had gotten ill.

Lunch was done in the Clinic after Sara had seen both of the Human laborers, giving them a regimen of anti-diarrhea and anti-nausea pills while telling them to increase their fluid intake and giving them some medical orders for three days' no duty. She updated both workers' medical records with the illness and the prescriptions, and then doing an inventory of her medications to see how long the medications would last if she ended up with an influx of patients. Sara briefly wondered if there had been any prior illnesses before her arrival, and then winced at a thought that hadn't occurred to her before; possible drug use. It was a concern in the Military, but regular urinalysis tests usually caught those using quickly. With civilians? That would be something to bring up with Professor T'vara later on.

She thought about the previous night, and Sara needed to talk to someone about it.

Sara opened her Chirper account on her Bluewire OmniTool and logged onto it. She clicked onto her 'friends' setting and found Jannie's link, clicking on it and sending a private chirp request to her Auntie. She knew it might be a while before Jannie might answer, depending on the time of day and what was going on, but Sara needed to talk to someone she knew and trusted. And she always went to Jannie for that.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie, U there? Need 2 talk, something personal came up. 1 of 'those' talks -.- :-S

Much to Sara's surprise, her OmniTool pinged with a message, and she saw that she had gotten a response in just a few moments. Obviously, Auntie was up and not particularly busy. She opened up her OmniTools' holographic screen and opened the message box to see that she had been chirped back.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Course, kiddo. Got urself in a pickle, did we? Does it involve a boy? O:-D

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Yes, a pickle. No, it doesn't involve a 'boy'. Something… else.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

? O.o ? Something curvier?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

*facepalm* Yes.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Joined the Dark Side and went and got urself some cookies, I see. -.o

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

At least U were smart enough not to let it B 1 of ur Marines.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

#SoNotTalkingToYou I guess I'm just glad ur mind didn't immediately jump into the gutter.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Oh wait, it did.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Duh, #SANavy. So… U like her?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

It's a lil more complex than that. Ok, lot more complex *facepalm*

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

She married?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

No. I don't think so? I didn't ask. *facepalm* Didn't think about that, but I don't think so.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

She… isn't Human, Auntie.

The next response took several moments, and that had Sara more than a little nervous. She knew Jannie's attitude towards non-Humans in general. It could be that her Auntie was interrupted, or… something else.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Blue?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Yes.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

R we talking nice conversations over miner light dinners in respectable dresses, or bar-sari Maiden?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

#SoNotTalkingToYou Bar-sari? That's terrible. Where'd u hear that? O.o

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

And no. Not a skanky credit slot. #ThatsJustEww

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

She's the expedition leader to the dig site, Auntie.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

700+. Dean of Protheantology. At #UniSerrice.

There was another pause before the reply came in.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

R we talking 'talking', or R we talking 'action'? ;-)

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Both. I… think I was seduced. I don't know what 2 think or feel sometimes. o.o,

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

She hurt you?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

No no no! Complete consent. And… it was nice, Auntie. Talking, dinner, feeling sought out for more than just hormones.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Don't get me wrong. Very enjoyable. Certainly not platonic.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

U had ur 1st romantic affair? #ThatsMyGirl

That certainly wasn't the response Sara had been expecting out of her Auntie. Her Auntie, who would never trust a Turian because she would never, ever know her father due to his death during the First Contact War. Her Auntie, whose disgust towards Batarians was almost palatable due to Elysium, hiring mercenaries, pirates, and slavers to bolster their numbers to hurt Humanity's expansion and sense of security. Her Auntie, who really wasn't comfortable with the others for a garden variety of reasons that really weren't too different from the rest of Mankind. Sara went to Auntie because she was better than admitting it to her brother (who would likely expect pics and high-fives) or her father (who didn't need to think or know that his little girl was having sex with aliens).

Sara knew enough about the Asari to know that what had happened the previous night was merely a 'first date' kind of mate-melding; nothing really invasive or deep, more like a… version of interpersonal touching and feeling. It was difficult to explain being non-Asari, but Sara knew that there were many levels and layers of melding and bonding, and it was customary for a first-time meld with a non-Asari that had never been with an Asari before to be light and gentle, so to speak. Irissa had been very considerate concerning Sara's nervousness, sweeping away her stammering and eased her into a position where Sara found herself practically at the Professor's tender mercy. And… God, it had been so _glorious_. It hadn't been the hormone-fueled fumbling of some young man who was more interested in his goal of getting laid, but that of someone who was interested in her both professionally and personally. Irissa talked to her about her passions and joys, and had in turned listened to Sara's. It was like a meeting of equals, and it had been… amazing, honestly.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Certainly wasn't expecting an 'attaboy' out of U. Considering. O.o

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

That's my opinion. Not urs.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

And U wouldn't B chirping me if this were something U weren't interested in or about.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

You like her? Honestly?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Too early 2 tell. I do like her. But just started, 2.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

She swept me off my feet. And it felt so amazing.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Every girl should be swept off her feet. It felt so… like caving in but without being worried or concerned or afraid.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

There was mutuality and respect in it, both ways. Not like my brother picking up another bimbo #ThatsJustEww

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

I think U like her. At least enough that U probably have a stupid grin on ur face right now.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Let me check. Yep. It's there.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Honestly? I'm happy 4 U. Srsly.

Sara felt a little speechless at that, reading the chirp. Her Auntie was… okay with her potentially being in a relationship with an alien? While Jannie wasn't exactly a 'racist' racist, she certainly wasn't defending non-Humans or making compromises in their favor, either. At best, Jane Catherine Shepard was Human-centric, looking out for Humanity first, along with about ninety percent of Mankind. She didn't go out of her way to hate or hurt aliens, but she certainly wasn't rushing out to like or aid them, either. Sara, growing up on the Citadel instead of an Alliance ship like her Auntie, had a different outlook. She had a hundred times more experience with non-Humans than Jannie did, and so she grew up with a completely different set of insights and point of views than Jannie did. So Jannie giving her a sort of seal of approval was certainly surprisingly.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Ok. I'm shocked. What gives?

There was a most definite pause.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

I know U know what I think and feel. But I grew up Alliance.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Ur literally the first Human born on the Cit. It was always around U, ur gonna think different.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

100% agree? No.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

100% support? Yes.

Sara was honestly shocked by that. But that's what she wanted. That support, that rapport. Jannie had always been the one she had gone to during little hiccups and road bumps, or whenever she faced a problem and needed someone to talk it out with so she could understand _why_ she felt the way she did. Sara needed that sounding board at times, sometimes just a need to speak the words out loud so she could determine if they were smart or not. And Jannie always listened. She wasn't the judgmental type. When the publicity and hype of Elysium had Sara frazzled, feeling bombarded by the requests of interviews, pics, autographs, and other popularity-related situations, she wanted nothing to do with it. Sara had just wanted to be a normal young teenaged girl, but she had unknowingly pushed herself into the spotlight.

She had gone to Jannie, voicing her concerns and fears, having difficulties in school and even inheriting stalker paparazzi and others that she was afraid were even worse. Sara hadn't wanted that kind of life, and she was scared. Somehow, the message had gotten sent quietly and effectively, and within a week or so, the tag-a-longs and credit-store cameramen all but vanished. Evidently, the Systems Alliance Military Public Affairs Office had a nice quiet word with many of the news mogul businesses to stay away from the young teenager, probably with threats of incarceration and allegations of child endangerment. By the end of the month, life had slowly slipped to semi-normal. Thanks to Jannie. Jannie had always been here for her.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

TY Auntie. I needed that.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Humans can B jerks, and it's on my mind. I just needed the assurance I am doing the right thing the right way.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I worry. I am a woman, after all.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Begs 2 question. Who wears the pants? O.o

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

#SoNotTalkingToYou

* * *

"I have something to show you."

Petty Officer Sara Ryder was looking at Professor Irissa T'vara with a smile as the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies of the University of Serrice held what appeared to be a normal-looking Asari-manufactured datapad in her hand as she entered into the Clinic. It was getting close to her time in where she would do the rounds with the SOG to check up on her Marines when Irissa messaged her for a quick meet. Sara had been working on some of her military correspondence courses, reading up on a leadership training module when the Asari Professor had Chirped her.

"Something good or something funny?" Sara asked, a smile coming to her lips at the sight of the Asari, who looked rather pleased with herself.

"Perhaps a bit of both." The Matriarch took a rolling stool and brought it over by where Sara sat at her terminal, sitting on its cushion. "I was excavating my own property earlier when I came across this precious gem. I have not looked upon this in some time, and when I found it, I thought of you." Irissa activated the datapad with a touch and Sara saw that the device turned on quickly to show a still. The Professor handed it over, and Ryder found herself looking at a picture of five armored Asari standing on what appeared to be a battlefield, shoulder to shoulder with weapons in hand and jubilant smiles upon their faces. Of the five of them, four of them had at least two centuries worth of centurymarks upon their faces, purple on three of them and white on another. One Asari had barely a century's worth of yellow marks upon her cheeks. The youngest of the five, yet standing in the middle, holding what appeared to be a submachine gun or perhaps a small carbine rifle. The older Asarikin all had their arms around the youngest, and upon the neck of the yellow-marked Asari was… was that the Grace of Athame?

"That's you and your Commando Sisters." Sara said, having realized who the Asari was with the yellow colonial markings upon her cheeks. "You were awarded the Grace of Athame?" The Grace of Athame was the Asari Republic of City-States' version of the Star of Terra, their highest award, with around the same requirements as the Star of Terra; service well above-and-beyond the call of duty. Auntie had won her Star of Terra holding off over a hundred raiders and slavers from taking thousands of school-aged children. Sara had a feeling she was about to learn the story of the Professor's Grace of Athame.

"Yes, I was." The Asari nodded her head, a sad smile upon her face. "This was during one of the border disputes between the Republics and the Independent Commonwealth of Planets in the Attican Traverse. The Independents had kidnapped a Republic Matriarch Mother and her family, holding them hostage as ransom for some petty demands. My Sisters and I were sent upon a rescue mission to return the Matriarch Mother and her family alive." Ryder could see that Irissa was most certainly remembering those times. "We went undercover in a tramp vessel posing as freelance mercenaries hired to bolster Independent forces. We were allowed to land, and were even invited into their stronghold."

"Whoops."

"Indeed." The smile grew. Sara had no idea who the Independent Commonwealth of Planets were, having never heard of them. Considering that Professor T'vara of today had seven centuries worth of centurymarks upon her cheeks and brow, and Sister T'vara barely cleared a century's worth in the pic, Ryder could guess why she had never heard of the ICP; ancient history for a Human Being. "We infiltrated the stronghold and located the Matriarch Mother and her family as well. Unfortunately, despite that the time for the ransom had yet to elapse, they had been torturing the Matriarch and her daughters. It was… quite barbaric." There was no kind reminiscence with that as Irissa took the trip down memory lane. "Most of it was psychological, which is not to say that it is not traumatizing, but having a daughter listen to her mothers' screams from another room while the Matriarch was force-melded against her will was quite effective."

"That is barbaric." Sara only had the barest idea what a force-meld was; it was akin to rape amongst the Asari, some sort of psychic cerebral violation that any perpetrator found guilty of was given over to the Asari Justicars for capital punishment. She was pretty certain she didn't want to know. "What happened?"

" _I_ happened." The Professor wasn't smiling. "I saw this young Daughter, barely four decades old, behind alloy bars, kept caged like some sort of… animal! Listening to her mother scream, begging mercy for her mother. She… she was offering herself to give her mother respite. Such courage in a child." Irissa shook her head. "A decades' worth of training mattered not in that moment. I felt my blood boil and my Biotics surge, and I simply fell like a Krogan in a bloodrage." Sara reached over and held Professor T'vara's hand, gripping it for comfort. "There were ten Independent warriors in that cruel chamber, and I killed them all without compunction, without quarter, and without mercy."

"Good." Sara didn't doubt she would have done the very same thing. One didn't torture people, and certainly harming women and children was just as cruel and unforgiving. "Single-handedly?"

"My Sisters were in another portion of their stronghold, keeping their forces at bay as I rescued the family, carrying the Matriarch Mother over my shoulder and leading her two daughters to safety. I was wounded twice during the rescue operation, both times protecting the younglings. We fought our way out and boarded our tramp freighter, having set demolition charges to destroy the stronghold. We eradicated that cell of savages without a single tear shed. They were responsible for kidnappings, disfigurements, force-melds, slavery, and BlackTech smuggling. Ending them made the galaxy that much safer." The smile was there, one of pride and honor. "For my actions, I was awarded the Grace of Athame while my Sisters were awarded with White Tides, our second-most illustrious award." Sara looked back upon the picture, seeing the Commandos together, Sisters bound in honor and friendship. One of their own draped with their species' highest award, standing together. "It hurts to admit that I am the only one still alive from my unit. When you spoke of being better, of them being proud of me for my efforts and accomplishments, I thought of this still. And they would have been quite proud of me, fair one, in that you are correct."

"I… here." Sara opened up her terminal, and opened up a folder on the GUI homepage, simply marked 'pics'. She tapped the folder with a finger and brought up a picture that always made her smile. It was a still of the day she left for Boot Camp, leaving the Cit for the first time in her life. She wasn't the only subject on the still. "This was only a couple of years ago," Sara admitted, "but I remember it like it was yesterday. Just graduated the Academy with honors, and I went and joined the SA Navy. My first time leaving the Citadel, and my Dad took this pic right before I took a transport for Earth."

"The young man?"

"My twin brother, Scott." Sara replied, looking upon her twin, seeing the two of them with their arms around one another, a final embrace. "I left first, my transport leaving a few hours before his. Scott enlisted for the Marines, and… that was going to be the first time we were ever truly separated. God, I bawled like a baby walking up that transport ramp, being without Scottie. We were together every day of our lives, before we even drew breath." Sara felt her own hand squeezed, and she looked to Irissa. "For weeks, I felt… hollow, like someone went and plucked half my soul away, or having to do everything left-handed. I realistically knew that the day would come, but when that day actually came? I cried so hard. I just wanted my Silver Medal back."

"Silver Medal? Ah! Second place." That had Sara snort and smile as the Protheantologist got it. "I guess that confirms which one was first."

"And I never let him forget it." Sara smiled, but the smile slipped. "I haven't seen him in two years. Whenever I think about it? It hurts. I remember slipping into his bed when I was little whenever I was afraid the Keepers would come in and rearrange my room while I was asleep. If I saw him today? I think I'd hold onto him for an hour and never let go."

"There is nothing wrong with that, fair one. If I saw one of my Sisters today, I doubt I would ever let them out of my sight again." Irissa smiled as she leaned over and gave Sara a gentle kiss upon her brow. "Thank you for sharing with me, Sara. It felt good to remember."

"I agree." Sara returned the kiss, planting it upon her blue cheek. "I need to do my rounds and check on my Marines. Thank you for showing this to me, Irissa." Sara handed the datapad back to the Asari. "Next time, I'll tell you about my Auntie. You might get a kick out of that."

"I shall hold you to that, fair one."

* * *

Author's Note: Chirper is actually the semi-canon Mass Effect version of Twitter. Due to the fact that the ExtraNet bands can only process so much data, and Council, government, and military take the priority, civilian traffic gets what's left. A Chirp is a low-data text message that can easily be sent to a receiver without having to wait for connection due to low bandwidth availability. I believe you can look it up on the Cerberus Daily News wikia page.

I'm not big on social network anything. I seriously had to look up what a Tweet looked like! #CaptainCaveman. Thanks to my eleven year old daughter for social-lingo and tweenitude for Sara's texting flavors. Thankfully, boys are still gross.

I involved texting/tweeting in this, but the file doesn't support a Right Alignment like texts and tweets have for the other person's messages. :p It would also not support the at/address sign, and hashtags/octothorps only if underlined. For a giggle, look up the histories of these electronic/typing symbols and why they were created! The hashtag is indeed called a octothorp, and the at symbol is the address sign, created specifically for e-mail addresses back in the early 70's for ARPANet.

I do mention Sara idea about 'submitting' to a more dominating personality, and how women are geared towards that. I'm not talking sexual harassment, assault, or even forcing. Women generally like men who are 'men'; in charge, assertive, that kind of thing. Irissa T'vara represents the dominant person in the relationship, while Sara seeks to be the dependent person, much like Sam was with her relationship with Jane Shepard in Where The Law Stands Tall and A Fox Amongst The Wolves. I'm not suggesting anything wrong, derogatory, or deviant.

This chapter really was more of what a normal deployment day can be like in a portion of a country that isn't actively trying to kill you. Rounds, TOC duties, police calls, checking up on the tower guards, eating bad chow. I forwent the grab ass, dick jokes, pranks, and normal bitchiness.

Chirping, texting, social networking, and the like will be used pretty extensively through this story, as it is quite prevalent in our society (well, okay, American society). It will actually help drive the story, make it feel like texting, and will have uses later on, like at the end of Chapter 5.

More Auntie. More teasing. What the Lion of Elysium did was never explained, save that Shepard was awarded the Star of Terra. It is _very_ rare to get a Medal of Honor, usually requiring a feat of sacrifice or an utter miracle, plus a rather large body count (one or both sides). I made the Assault of Elysium a raider/slaver run, in which Jane Shepard holds off over a hundred raiders from kidnapping teenagers to sell on the slave markets. That would likely do it outside of an actual war. So Jannie is a shipborn war hero. More to follow.

I really didn't delve too much into what 'melding' is, considering the game really didn't explain it that much. Did ReeRee Peebee even talk about it at all? I figured it was emotional bonding, but added force-melding as a sex crime, which I tapped into during _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege of Hadley's Hope_ when Jannie Shepard gets in a fistfight with an Ardat-Yakshi in Chapter 13: _Semper Fidelis, Motherfucker_.

Biotic Copulation - Considering Biotics have a 'higher' bioelectrical field due to their mutation, two Biotics might have a positive feedback. This is what Asari can do with another Biotic, and a reason why they might seek their own kind... or a Biotic from another species. I don't think anyone else has come up with this kind of idea yet, though I know some have entertained the use of Biotics for sex (which... scary? I don't think I want anyone trying to warp my junk, no matter how low-powered #ThatsJustEww)

Sara and Scott were born on the Cit, and I made Sara Firstborn. It occurred to me that the Keepers were everywhere, and the first game did mention how the Keepers would go and rearrange things, like furniture in an office for no real reason. I wondered… would they do that to someone's home? How would a kid feel about some insectoid alien in their room at night? So Sara has a bit of a fear of Keepers because of this. Seems realistic. Hell, I hated German Shepards for a long time because I wanted to watch _The Thing_ when I was five or six and the dog in the movie ended up being a cannibalistic shape-changing alien. Don't get me started on facehuggers. #ThatsJustEww.


	4. Dig Site Alpha, IV

_BioWare; reverse and hold at 38.5! (Ah! Flashback humor!)_

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 6, 2183**

Author's Note: Take a look at the date. You've seen it before. Now look at the disclaimer. Put two and two together. Guess what kind of day this chapter will be?

* * *

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder held her Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistol in a two-handed grip as she fired several aimed rounds at the target in front of her, sitting only ten meters away as she kept the sights at the middle of the target. She then collapsed-and-holstered her pistol to her left hip as she plucked her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun from the magnetic lock on her chestpiece and engaged the target downrange, putting five five-round bursts into the target. Sara worked on keeping the muzzle climb of the Stinger manageable as she fired the submachine gun until she filled the heat sink to capacity. The Corpsman locked the heat extraction bolt back and slapped the weapon back on her chest while drawing her Kessler left-handed and putting the rest of its rounds into the target before the slide locked back automatically to dispense the heat from the copper sink of the pistol.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson called out as the eighteen Marines of Night Shift stopped firing at the impromptu range, doing their twice-a-week firing drills. Sara had shifted her schedule earlier in the week so that she could include the Night Shift Marines with her checks, and was more-or-less adjusted to the new schedule and hours. She had been on Therum for two weeks now, and everything was running smoothly for her. The Clinic was now fully stocked and equipped, and she had worked out a schedule that would have her working her duties, her courses, her project, and also see Professor Irissa T'vara on a regular basis without leaving her exhausted or missing training. Thankfully, none of the Marines even suspected that she was seeing anyone from the Dig Site, the Marines likely thinking her moving about too much and keeping herself occupied with a good many activities to even consider it. They had gotten use to her being there, and the normal issues that a woman might have amongst a male-heavy population had thankfully been at a very bare minimum. She got looks and one or two sidebar comments that weren't vulgar or insulting, so she wasn't worried.

"Holster weapons and check your targets." Gunny Halverson called out as eighteen Marines (and one Sailor) approached the projected targets that stood ten meters from their firing positions, the Marines armed with their Systems Alliance Marine Corps-issued Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifles while she was armed with a Kessler and Stinger so that she could action upon a target single-handedly while working on a patient with another. Sara walked forward with the other Marines, reaching the series of man-sized targets that they had been firing upon, holographically-projected targets in which round strikes were marked. She reached her target, and was satisfied to see that her Kessler shots were highlighted blue, and all within a four centimeter diameter of the sternum of her target. The Stinger hits were marked red, and she saw that while a mass majority of them were also around the center, the muzzle climb going up and to the right showed a few round crawling up towards the targets' left shoulder. Still, every round had been on-target, and not productive for a long, healthy life.

"Nice bingo, Doc." Corporal Kyle Stannis complimented, the Marine Non-Com standing to her left as he checked her target. "Splash some red paint with that hand-eye there."

"Don't have to bring them back if I hole their chest cavities." Ryder told the Corporal, who snorted and smiled at that. Hospital Corpsmen were suppose to heal any wounded they came across, to include enemy combatants. Sara understood the concept of why the policy was in place; one hoped that the other side would do the same. It sounded pretty on paper. Realistically? Unlikely to happen. If Sara found herself in a firefight, her Marines came first. Then civilians. Then possibly wildlife. She might go out and donate blood before coming across a wounded enemy and contemplating using her supplies on some motherfucker who earned it if they were still breathing after having a run-in with the Marine Corps fist. "Yours looks like it got hit with the plague." Stannis' target had a bit of a larger diameter from his M7 Lancer. It was harder to control the muzzle break, and had a hefty recoil. For the Lancer, Stannis' grouping was actually quite good. "Should I go get a Chaplain to say Last Rites?"

"Naw, we'll just let it rot in the sun." The Corporal replied with a half-smirk, looking at his target. "Why spend the energy burying it when some magma flow will eat it up sooner or later?"

"True that." Ryder replied as she turned back from her target to return to the firing line, seeing Gunny Halverson chewing out one of the Privates whose marksman skills were less-than-par. Every Marine was a rifleman, but not every rifleman was actually a good one. "Ballsack looks ready to cry."

"Shoulda held his rifle like a Marine, not some fucking bus driver." There was no sympathy in the Corporal's voice. A Marine that couldn't fire well wasn't a Marine; he was a JAFO. "Perhaps we can go get him a job swabbing a deck somewhere."

"Always room for more bosom mates." Sara snarked with a nasty grin, making Kyle laugh at the joke. _Bosum's_ _Mates_ were Navy Maintenance and Janitorial Services, being an all-around utility position that all boats needed. A _bosom mate_ , on the other hand, was a Navy term for someone who wasn't much good for anything except scraping chipped ablative paint off a hull or some other menial position. "Maybe we can teach him how to cook. How hard is it to boil water?"

"Dishes do need cleaning." That was one of the 'Private' duties; Kitchen Patrol. That was the official term. The unofficial term was 'kitchen bitch'. Whoever was that weeks' screw up pulled one of the 'Private' duties, in which Kitchen Patrol and Bathroom Patrol were always good options.

"My Clinic needs a new coat of paint." Sara exaggerated, making the Corporal laugh once more as they reached the firing line, Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach still getting his ass reamed by Gunny. "Could always have him sweep outside." That meant a police call around the Barracks for trash out in the environs of Therum. Not that it was particularly dirty, but corrective punishment was punishment, plain and simple.

"Broom or toothbrush?" Kyle kept up with the joke, and the other firer next to them, Sergeant Christoph Wirtz snorted, obviously overhearing them. Everyone was back on the firing line as Gunny reset the targets, the round strikes disappearing as the holographic targets refreshed themselves. Sara drew her M5 Stinger and held the submachine gun in a two-handed grip, with her left hand on the forward handle as she braced the collapsible buttstock against her shoulder, sighting down the holographically-displayed close quarters combat sight and putting it on target. When Gunny Halverson called out to fire, Ryder squeezed the trigger of her M5, putting a five-round burst of concentrated fire into the center of the man-shaped target. She readjusted quickly and fired again, touching the sight's reticle upon the chest as she held her Stinger in just the slightest of downward angles to help control the muzzle climb as she reacquired and fired upon the target once more. Her left hand dropped to her M9 Kessler on her left hip as she collapsed and locked the Stinger on her chestplate as she drew, positioned, aimed, and fired upon her target, firing her pistol six times as quickly and as accurately as she could. She reversed the process, slipping her pistol to her hip while her right hand went for her submachine gun, getting it into combat operations single-handedly as she gripped it properly, seated it against her shoulder, and expended the rest of the heat sink firing at the target. When the M5's overheat alarm went off, Sara locked the bolt back as she slapped it on her chest and transitioned to her Kessler, firing the remaining six shots into her target. When she was finished, Gunny called for cease fire since Ryder was the last one to finish, armed with two non-fully automatic weapons. That was actually a good thing.

"You got smooth transition, going back and forth." Sergeant Wirtz complimented Sara as they moved towards their targets. "Lots of practice?"

"Every range I've been on." The Petty Officer replied, nodding her head. As a Corpsman, she was armed with 'lighter' weapons because they filled more of a self-defensive role as oppose to an assault role. If no one was hurt, she knew Marine Assault Tactics to keep up and position herself appropriately with a Marine weapons' team, adding her fire along with their own. But if a man went down, it was her job to get him out of the line of fire, and to protect him from further harm. It was possible that she would have to fight her way out of a dangerous situation, thus she was issued weapons that were reasonably effective to use with just one hand, unlike a Lancer, which was too long and heavy to use accurately with just one hand. Sara practiced on her transitions from one weapon to the other for two reasons; to get herself good at being able to put rounds on target with either hand, and to practice transitions between her submachine gun and her pistol without having to think or look. In a combat situation, that was the difference between life and death. Halverson called out for everyone to check on their targets, and once more Sara was satisfied with what she saw; even firing faster, her aim was right in the inner ring of the chest, making her shots potentially lethal.

"Got you some, Doc." Corporal Stannis commented, looking at her target after checking his own. They both overheard Gunny Halverson yelling at another Private, this one Lapdance. "Ugh, Privates. Almost rather have some mechs or drones."

"But who would do the dishes then, Swag?" The Corpsman asked, using Stannis' Boot Camp nickname. "And if you point at me, I'll donate your corpse for medical research."

"Ouch, Doc. That's harsh." The Corporal chuckled as Sergeant Wirtz snorted in response, obviously overhearing them. Ryder was pretty certain that Stannis was 'friendly flirting' with her; innocuous and appropriate. Even if she weren't in a semi-relationship, she still had that rule; no one in her unit. That just spoke of stupidity. "Think we could contract one of the civilians?"

"Civilians… work?" Sara pretended to be mystified as they walked back to the firing line, the targets resetting. "All I ever see them do is bitch and whine. Probably have to pay them twice as much and expect half the competency."

"True." Wirtz replied from the opposite side of Sara, nodding sagely. "Every time I ask something out of a MOD puke, the first response is a sigh and a look of indignation, like 'how dare you interrupt my lazy time'." That had both the Corporal and the Corpsman laughing. Ministry of Defense Members were employed by the Systems Alliance Military to fill in non-combat roles as oppose to filling the ranks with actual military members. One could find them in locations such as equipment issuance depots, administrative positions, maintenance bays, and in accountability roles. Sadly, it wasn't uncommon for a member of the Navy or Marines to be overheard having to deal with said MOD employees being slow or incompetent at their jobs. Ryders' medical orders came from a medical depot ran by MOD employees, and not one of her orders had yet to be filled correctly. Sara wondered if it was illiteracy or incompetency that was the issue. Perhaps both. "When to a school about a year back where we had civilian trainers teaching us how to check lifepods for viability and proper functionality, and I swear not a one of them could actually _fit_ inside a lifepod. Too fat."

"That's not fat, it's cushioning." Sara pointed out, making both of the Marines chuckle. "Wouldn't want to bruise their asses sitting on them all day." Stannis was cracking up too hard, and even Wirtz was shaking his head and laughing hard. Sara wiped the sweat off of her face as Knossos rose higher in the sky, the oppressive heat really cranking up as the range continued. Three more iterations, and then it was shower time.

Just another day in the Corps.

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder was in her Clinic, putting on her Sirta Foundation's Phoenix Light Combat Armor when the sound of a blaring klaxon alarm interrupted her from putting on her right bracer to complete suiting up. The Corpsman stopped what she was doing as a flood of ice water filled her veins at the sound of the warbling siren echoed throughout Dig Site Alpha, recognizing it for what it was. She had never personally heard it herself, but knew of it. The last time _that_ particular siren roared was back in '76, and before that in '70.

It was the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm; it was blaring the DefConOne Code.

Sara locked her bracer on her forearm as she grabbed her helmet and shoved it on, sealing her armor quickly as she clipped her M9 Kessler Pistol to her left hip and grabbed her M5 Stinger Submachine Gun with her right hand, extending it into combat operations as she activated her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire Omnitool and linked it with Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company's connectivity network, displaying her location as well as accessing its communications and encryptions as the Petty Officer rushed out of her Clinic and out into the hellish environment of Therum, the midday heat penetrating through her armor, making her feeling as if she were being cooked slowly on the inside of her Phoenix Armor. Ryder ignored the sensation as she turned towards the entrance of the Dig Site, already knowing what her duties and responsibilities would be; the assistance of security and evacuation of the civilians at the Dig Site. She didn't know if this were a scheduled drill or a surprise one, but the Corpsman took it just as seriously as the real deal.

Auntie told her that far too many didn't take it seriously enough on Elysium when the DefConOne Alarm rang over Illyeria back in 2176. Sara took that lesson to heart.

The Corpsman ran to the entrance of the Dig Site, opening the access door and punching in the emergency override code to bypass the decontamination process as both doors opened to the Complex, reaching the Dig Site's access panel and punching the evacuation alarm; the system wasn't linked to the CEBA, and it was possible that there could be members of the Expeditionary Team that were too far in or too deep to hear the general alarm. Like any other Systems Alliance facility, there was an evacuation route that was marked for such times if personnel didn't learn of it or had forgotten it. Sara keyed up her Omnitool, her Bluewire holographically displaying over her armor as she made sure that she was integrated with the Platoon Network, and saw that six IFF codes were heading towards the Dig Site; all Privates and Lance Corporals. Sara had been told the details of a Emergency Drill, and knew her role. She would be in charge of evacuation and the defense of the civilians while the rest of the Red Platoon would defend Dig Site Alpha itself, protecting the civilians, the evacuation, the shuttles, and the property inside. In addition to her role, she would have six Marines flexed to her to aid her in pushing civilians in the right direction; towards the shuttles, not towards their personal tents and belongings. The shuttles were twenty-five seat Asari-designed _Shu'pari_ Personnel Transportation Craft, which could actually fit twenty-seven; twenty-five seatfillers, and two in the cockpit. That made for fifty-four in total out of a hundred and nine personnel in the Dig Site. Laps were going to be filled.

Telling a bunch of civilians that they were going to have to share? Ryder wasn't exactly looking forward to the bitching session on that one.

Sara was forced to wait for the six Marines to link up with her, which took a couple of minutes for them to make their way down the escarpment into the actual Dig Site, and then through the bowl before they reached her. Their IFF codes had identified them before the Petty Officer had even physically seen them, so she knew whom she was getting; Privates Louis Broussard, Mikael Holodansk, and Nathaniel Balsach, Private First Classes Holland Hoss and Oblong Ubantu, and Lance Corporal Hong Jeong. Sara knew them to be the newest and least-experienced Marines in Red Platoon, almost all of them having come out of Boot Camp within the past six months, with some of them obtaining rank through various efforts during their recruitment. They were all Night Shift, and Ryder knew them well enough, even their nicknames. It would be fun ordering a man around with the name of 'Blowjob', not to mention 'Lap Dance' and 'Ballsack'. Marines and their nicknames. The six Marines linked up with her in good time, each of them hustling to her position at the Dig Site's access door. They arrived fully armed and armored, holding their Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifles in hand while wearing their Aldrin Labs' Onyx Medium Interceptor Armor, complete with full helmets.

"K-Pop," Ryder looked Lance Corporal Jeong, "take Blowjob, Ballsack, and the Kenyan and bunker here behind the fortifications." Holodansk, Balsach, and Ubantu had been selected to stick with the Marine E-3. The main outcropping that contained the access door had a pair of fortification walls meant for cover in case of attack. "Keep the door open until whatever's attack pressures you inside. Then you bound inside, seal the door, shoot the locking mechanism, and then turn the access tunnel into a death trap." The corridor that lead down into the Dig Site was about twenty meters long, and was a circular tube. Four men could potentially hold off an army. "Keep in contact, and stay frosty." Jeong was the highest ranking individual after herself, and Sara knew that for the Marines, that meant he was second-in-command no matter how little experience he had. If Ryder put him in charge, that meant he acted under her authority. If she remembered correctly, Jeong came in as a Lance Corporal because when he was recruited, he pass the requirement score for the Physical Training test and referred another individual to enlist into the Systems Alliance Military.

"Aye aye, Doc." Lance Corporal Jeong replied as the four Marines took to cover, their Lancers up and over the protective barriers as they covered the entrance into the Dig Site bowl where several infrastructures existed.

"Bra, Lap Dance, with me." The Petty Officer ordered, looking at Private Broussard and Private First Class Hoss. "We get to babysit the civilians and make sure they head towards the rally point and not run off for trinkets or personal effects."

"Sir yessir!" Both Marines echoed as Sara turned down the tunnel that entered into the Dig Site Complex, heading underground with her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun cradled in her hands and held tightly to her chest as she led the way into the underground site with Broussard and Hoss right behind her. Sara wasn't actually looking forward to telling a hundred civilians that they would leave everything behind to reach an extraction point three kilometers away at a fast clip only to stuff themselves into two too-small unarmed shuttles. There would be arguments, and that would mean lost time. Lost time meant lost lives if the worst should happen. Thankfully, she had two armed Marines to help suggest that compliance was the preferred option. She didn't doubt that Professor Irissa T'vara would be on-board as well. She had been a former Commando Sister, after all. Any of the civilian grips and complaints would likely be smothered easily by the Professor's authority considering she was the Expeditionary Team Leader and could possibly ruin a career if one endangered others.

Ryder led her pair of Marines down into the Complex, exiting the tunnel and into the gigantic cavern in which the Dig Team had settled. Much to Sara's relief, it seemed that a vast majority had been congregated right into the middle of the camp, with wiser heads pooling their separate teams together for accountability purposes. That would make things a great deal easier than having to stop and locate every individual. Her responsibility was to evacuate the civilians; not most of them, but all of them.

"Professor T'vara?" The Petty Officer called out, quickly locating the Dean of Prothean Research of the University of Serrice amongst the rest of the Expedition from USerrice, thanks to her yellow centurymarks. "Has accountability been complete, Professor?"

"Yes, Chief Ryder." The Asari replied professionally. Thankfully, both of them were quite well aware that now was not the time for anything else but duty. "Every member of the Serrice Expedition is present and accounted for. Unfortunately…"

"I don't see one Human Being." Sara sighed as she took a quick look, and didn't find any of her own species. There were forty-one members in total; four Doctors, six Undergraduates, and thirty-one laborers. The Corpsman didn't see any of them. _Just my fucking luck_ , Sara thought to herself. "Did anyone see where they might have possibly gone? Toward the extraction point, hopefully."

"Negative, ma'am." One of the Turian laborers coined, speaking up as he stepped forwards, a brown-plated laborer with Nimines Colony markings on his plates. "I came from that direction, and no one went down that way."

"Just fucking perfect." Ryder looked to her two Marines, who weren't thrilled with the thoughts that they were concluding as well. They would have to split up to lead the accounted team to the shuttles while someone else went and found the team that was currently _in absentia_. It was not a desirable scenario. _Well, wait… Turian laborer, right there._ Sara had been born on the Cit, and knew a good deal about Turian culture. Likely a good deal more than the common Human, and probably most in the military, too. "Reservists! Front and center!" Ryder used her 'big girl' voice, and wasn't surprised to see that about seventy percent of the Turian labor force stepped forward almost automatically, twelve in all. Well, things just got a little bit easier. "Highest-ranking individual in the meritocracy, please." Both Bra and Lap Dance were looking at her as if she had lost her damn mind as one older Turian stepped forward, his grayish plates displaying Taetrus Colony markings.

"Abadexus Linaseus, tenth-tier and former Active Duty _Hastist_ Infantry." The Turian identified himself, and Ryder knew what that meant. Linaseus was an Infantryman, sent to contain and suppress whomever was the enemy at the time. The tactic _Ad Bellum Hasti_ was the common military tactic the Hierarchy used to pacify a contested area; a surrender and a deadline was given, and any who opposed it after the time expired was obliterated. Humanity learned of the tactic on Shanxi, not knowing of it or even understanding the Turians at the time, the species simply known as 'Raptors'. Abadexus Linaseus was the very definition of Hierarchy muscle.

" _Centurion_ , you and the Reservists," Sara nodded to the eleven other Turians, "will collect your personally-owned defensive weapons that I know you have in your possession, and you will lead the Serrice Team to the extraction point and provide far-side security. I will give you my Omnitool ID for communication purposes, and we will keep each other up-to-date. If you lose contact with me for more than ten minutes? Stuff the shuttles and pop to No'burg. There is an Alliance barracks and stronghold there, and they will let you in if you identify yourselves as a part of Dig Site Alpha's members. Any questions, _Centurion_?" Technically, a tenth-tier member would outrank Sara's Petty Officer (Third Class) rank, but as a member of Active Duty, she would get precedence as protection of the site was her duty, not his own.

"Enemy composition?" Linaseus asked, turning once to motion the identified Turians to head out, undoubtedly to collect their weapons. The standard issue was generally a Haliat Armory's KAL-25 Personal Defense Weapon, a civilian carbine battle rifle that was a little more powerful than a submachine gun, but not as much as the Hierarchy standard, the Devlon Industry's M-14 Raptor Assault Rifle. Sara had been living around Turians almost her entire life, and knew how their culture worked. Most everyone born in the Hierarchy served in the military starting at fifteen and served in Active Duty until thirty if they wished to advance in the meritocracy for he rest of their lives. Once out, going Reserves meant that each Turian would receive an annual stipend for their inactive service, as well as looking good for them for promotions both in employment and in the meritocracy. Usually, anywhere from seventy to eighty percent of _all_ Turian civilians were Reservists, and Hierarchy Law stated that all Reservists must possess and maintain an effective weapon system to maintain their Reservist status. Sara was now fully exploiting that law, even though she wasn't in the Hierarchy Military, much less a Turian. _Duty Unto Death_ was the motto of the Hierarchy Reserves, after all. Sara wasn't shocked at all when _all_ of the Turians that identified themselves as Reservists pulled out and configured their personally-owned and Council Space-approved requisite firearms and held them in a ready combat stance. At the first sound of trouble, they had gone for their weapons, ready to fight and die for others as necessary. God bless Turian practicality.

"Unknown species, allegiance, numbers, weapons, or tactics." Ryder replied, having not received an update from Gunny Halverson. Chances were, someone in the Systems Alliance had been attacked or was under attack, and the general alert had been sounded because the attack had come as a surprise. The Skyllian Blitz had taught Humanity a great deal about modern warfare, especially multi-planetary attacks and actions thanks to 'private' forces that were magically _not_ Batarian Hegemonists despite evidence of species, armor, weapons, ranks, and vessels. Therum was uncomfortably close to Hegemony Space, and that was Sara's first thought and concern. "If I get an update, I'll send you all that I know, but your main priority will be the safety and evacuation of the civilians here, _Centurion_. _EST CAUSA! OFFICIUM AD MORTEM!_ "

" _EST CAUSA! OFFICIUM AD MORTEM!"_ All twelve Turians responded automatically and enthusiastically, some of them a little surprised that Ryder had spoken in Common Palavenian, the main Turian dialect without aid of a translator. The fact that she knew the official mottoes of the Turian Hierarchy Active Services and the Hierarchy Reserves seemed to surprise them as well. _For The Cause_ and _Duty Unto Death_ , indeed.

"Carry on, _Centurion_." The Petty Officer nodded at Linaseus as she activated her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire Omnitool and toggled her communication ENIP Address to send to the Turian so that they could remain in contact. "Professor T'vara?"

"Chief Ryder." The Asari Matriarch took a slight step forward, standing in a respectful position for a Matriarch who would listen to another that was not her superior, Sara recognized; the Protheantologist's hands held behind her back in a position of respectful compliance. It might have been for the others of the Expeditionary Team to show that their boss was going to listen without argument, and that they should as well. That was good. Sara already had forty-one headaches to deal with.

"Please get your people directly to the extraction point. No deviations." Sara told the Dean of Prothean Research. "We have two shuttles that can seat fifty, and there are a hundred and nine sapients in the Dig Site." What Sara was really telling everyone was that _there's no room for anything else but warm bodies_. "No one gets left behind for _anything_." That was more for the benefit of those who thought sacrificing their seat for some object was a good idea. That would waste time and lives, and Ryder already had to expend that time looking for the Oxford Team. She knew how important this expedition was to the people here, but in times of emergency, people came first. _Always_. Her words were meant for the assembled team in case anyone had thoughts on scooting off to grab that _one thing_ that would hold everyone up and get someone (or several someones) killed. Irissa was nodding, and Sara could see that the Asari understood. "And… be careful." That was as innocuous as Ryder could manage to say what she felt for the Protheantologist in front of sixty-eight non-Humans and two Marines.

"And you as well, Chief." The Professor gave her a courteous bow, returning the same meaning to her. "Everyone! Please proceed to the evacuation point at a good pace. No stragglers, and no detours." The Petty Officer watched as the Serrice Team began moving from the common area towards the pre-planned route towards the evacuation point, going down a flight of fabricated stairs to the lower depths of the Dig Site that would lead to a still-functional Prothean lift that would lead them to the other side of the volcano where the shuttles were located at the bottom of a mine shaft where the entrance was merely a vertical shaft, and thus next-to-impossible to gain entrance to the rear entrance. Irissa took the lead with Abadexus Linaseus right in step with her, the Reservists dispersed with the Serrice Team to make sure that everyone was following orders. Sara watched as the Asari Professor took to the stairs, giving one final glance to her before making the descent. A sharp ache pierced Ryder's heart at the sight, but she was glad that Irissa T'vara would be making her way to safety. She had a job to do, and not having that nagging voice or worry would help her perform.

God she hoped that this was just a drill.

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder, accompanied by Private Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard and Private First Class Holland 'Lap Dance' Hoss, moved through the Dig Site, heading from the main portion of the camp inside the massive cavern in which the Dig Site's Expeditionary Team worked from, towards the living quarters portion that was mostly sequestered in the rear portion of the camp. The initial brief for the members of both the Serrice Team and the Oxford Team had defined what to do in emergency situations, and the forty-one members from Oxford University had been told to meet in the center of the camp, where Sara had found the Serrice Team. Perhaps they might be hiding in the tents meant for human habitation. That's what she was hoping for, at least.

"Lap Dance? Bra? Check the first and second tents while I'll go look in the research tent." Ryder ordered the two Privates, pointing out the habitation tents for Broussard and Hoss, neither one of them likely to have even been into the actual Dig Site themselves. She also pointed out what tent she would be looking in, just in case. "Holler out if you locate anyone."

"Aye aye, Doc." Hoss replied as the PFC and the Private went towards the tents she had identified as Sara moved to the left where the Oxford research tent was. She had her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun magnetically locked to the chestpiece of her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Armor, having it ready but not out. She didn't think she would be needing it for the moment being as she did a quick text-check with Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson, notifying him of the situation with an update. She did the same with _Centurion_ Reservist Abadexus Linaseus just to touch base. She had known dozens like the former _Centurion_ , good-Spirited Turians who were the quiet working-class heroes in which politics and current trends weren't a part of a routine, just a citizen maintaining a family and a life. She didn't know him, but she knew she could trust him to do the right thing, that sort of mentality born-and-bred into the Sons and Daughters of Palaven. Having him and the Reservists around would be a real boon, especially if things went downhill.

Sara entered the research tent for the Oxford Team, popping her head in at first to see that it was bereft of life, not a soul to be seen. Ryder frowned for a moment, wondering if the personnel had sequestered themselves elsewhere. There were decent hiding spots for such things, as Sara had done a little exploring on each visit to the Dig Site, having seen a few key locations where one could do just that. If they weren't in the research tent or in the personnel tents, then finding them just became a good deal more difficult. There was literally dozens of locations one could stack fifty Human Beings with the thought of bunkering down. They wouldn't have food or water, but if they thought this was merely an hour or two ordeal, Sara could see a group moving to do just that.

"Anything?" Ryder asked as she left the research tent, fining Broussard and Hoss exiting the personnel tents, both Privates answering in the negative. "Well, fuck. Our lives just got complicated. Now we need to figure our where forty-one people went and stashed themselves in an emergency as oppose to the right and proper location, which is where we found the Serrice Team." Sara was about to ask for ideas when she came up with one herself. _No… don't let that be true._ She really hoped that she was wrong. "Let's head over to the Serrice side of the camp and take a look at their tents. You know, just in case." That wasn't what Ryder was thinking, but she wasn't about to voice her opinion in case she was wrong. But in the time of emergencies, there were people who took advantage of it.

Opportunity.

The Petty Officer led herself and the two Marines towards the opposite side of the camp, where the University of Serrice personnel were sequestered. Due to their numbers and different species, there were more tents, both for habitation and research. Sara had visited it a number of times, including that first day when she had went to Professor Irissa T'vara's tent, what she now knew to be the Expeditionary Lead's Administrative Tent. Sara knew this portion of the camp well, knowing which personnel tent were for which species, and which research tents were for which departments. It only took a couple of minutes for her to lead the Privates to the Serrice side of the camp, artfully sequestered apart from the Oxford side due to some species tensions between the Humans and everyone else. Sara knew why, and it hadn't been the non-Humans who had created or forced the issue. So much for interspecies cooperation in more-advanced endeavors.

"The Paleontechnology tent." Sara pointed out to the tent in which the Paleotechnology Department worked from, separate from the Paleosociology and Xenoarcheology tents. If she were right (and Sara had a sinking feeling that she might be), that would be the first place to look. _Please be wrong_ , Sara thought to herself as she pushed through the magnetic-lock curtain of the entrance.

The tent was occupied.

Ryder entered the tent along with Broussard and Hoss to find what appeared to be a mass-majority of the Oxford Team inside the Serrice Team's Paleontechnology Tent. It was obvious what was going on; looting. Members of the Oxford Team were rifling through lockers and shelving units while others were engaging terminals for data, and Sara felt her blood run cold as anger swelled within her. One of the most-respected colleges on Earth, its members venerated and respected throughout Alliance Space, reduced to larceny. The implications of it were beyond ugly.

"A-HEM!" Sara mock-cleared her throat loudly enough for everyone in the tent to turn their attention to her as Sara drew her Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistol with her left hand, extending it into combat operations as both Privates followed her example without question or order, drawing and extending their M7 Lancers and holding them at the low-ready, ready to engage upon her word. "Looting in the time of emergencies and crisis comes with a severe penalty. Gunfire, usually." No capture, no investigation, no trial, and no defense, she didn't add. No recriminations on those who were to maintain law and order, either. Most everyone had stopped what they were doing, the rifling of effects ceased and inputting of terminals halted as she held everyone's attention as she held her Kessler in a two-handed grip, pointing it in the general direction of the group. "Cease and desist what you are doing immediately, empty all pockets and drop all items onto the nearest table, and proceed to the evacuation point post-haste."

"Bah!" Doctor Richard Sanders, Lead Protheantologist and Paleontologist for the University of Oxford replied, the fifty-something year old man waving off the threat as if… she were some pesky interruption. "Continue searching. I know the aliens aren't sharing like they should." Actually, Sara and Irissa had a conversation about that a few nights before. Evidently, Oxford had been cagey about sharing the whole time, and seeing how the team from Earth acted amongst the non-Humans, Sara likely concluded that the Oxford team _didn't_ want to share in their findings and research, and thus got a reciprocal response. But what was going on now was _dangerous_ , much more so than just looting and pilfering during a time of crisis. "Ignore the little girl and continue…"

KA-BAM!

The gunshot from Ryder's pistol shocked everyone into stillness as she shot out the display unit that Doctor Sanders had been working on, the holographic screen and its corresponding Haptic keyboard disappearing with the imaging unit's destruction. She had their attention before, but she certainly had their undivided attention now. Before, she was a nuisance, some thug. Now she was a threat, and an active one.

" _Little girl?_ " Ryder said in a tone that was pure venom, getting Hoss to whistle once, as if to say _you fucked up now, boy_. "A man educated at some of the finest institutions in Alliance Space, a tenured Doctor at the most prestigious University on Earth, reduced to robbery. And you call _me_ a little girl?" Her eyes bored right towards the Doctor in question, who looked at her with a scowl, as if she were the one making a mistake. Either he had no idea, or thought he would get away with it. Either way, what he did would have repercussions. "I'll say this again; cease and desist, empty all pockets, and proceed to the evacuation point." Sara had a sad feeling things would be going downhill quickly. No one was taking her seriously, nor the two Marines that stood to either side of her with assault rifles ready to go.

"You don't understand, you simple-minded thug!" The Doctor exclaimed, his voice angry as he insulted her. No one else was moving, either for more pilfering or to empty their pockets. It was a tennis match now, and everyone wanted to see who was the one left swinging empty air. "I'm trying to make humanity _great_ …"

"Except I'm about to fuck your _shit_ up. How's that for great?" Sara's tone didn't lose its venom as she pointed the pistol right at the Doctor. "Don't fucking belittle me with false self-righteousness, Doctor. This isn't about humanity. It's about greed; your greed."

"What would you know, you backwater little bitch?" The old man shouted, anger filling his tone as he took a step forward. "You are better off scraping for crops off some mudball colony…"

The next gunshot was just short and to the left of his forward foot, making Doctor Sanders jump up about half-a-meter in shock.

"Actually, I graduated at the Presidium Academy of Education on the Citadel, ranked fifth in my year." Sara smiled, though there was no warmth to it. "Being the daughter of a diplomat has its perks. Like how to treat people with respect and an education in galactic history, which so happens to include what happens to governments when discovered that they are hording or stealing Prothean research or technology." Broussard shifted slightly next to her, as if in shock but without trying to be apparent about it.

"See," Sara continued as she walked forward slowly, "you thought you'd come in here and get your grubby little hands on whatever you wished and stuff it somewhere for later retrieval when everything dies down. You'd probably send the tidbits and the socio-economical research off to Oxford because too many people are here for this to truly remain quiet, and you'd have to hand them something. But the big stuff? That you'll likely sell to corporations and the black market for a pretty Cred, and I bet you're the kind of asshole who doesn't share, giving everyone a stipend while you horde the pie to yourself. Because who amongst the undergrads and the laborers would know what you've got when you take the research yourself and proclaim what you have with rose-tinted glasses?"

The tent was silent enough to hear atoms collide.

"But you've only figured out half the operation. Let me tell you the other half." Sara continued as she stepped forward, getting closer to the Doctor, who had the good sense to say nothing. "The Serrice Team comes back with their shit looted and plundered. Know what happens then?" The Petty Officer's voice was pure iridium. "They call the University Board. Who calls the Asari Republic of City-States. Who then call the Citadel Council of Law, who governs over the laws of Prothean research distribution and advancement. Know what happens then, motherfucker?

"Sanctions. Reparations. A few disputes that will cost thousands of lives and billions of Credits."

Several people in the Oxford Team shifted with that.

"So go ahead! Steal! Loot to your heart's content!" Sara kept her pistol aimed right at the Lead Doctor, her aim never shifting as she moved in closer, as if stalking prey. "I bet you're the kind of asshole that's going to cash out and live on some Class I colony with the near-Earth conditions where everyday's a beach while the rest of Humanity takes a black eye. You won't even think twice forgetting those who are now _your_ accomplices in this crime, arrested and tried by the Alliance to keep the Council happy due to _your_ actions. You bitch and whine about how _aliens_ are out to get us, but in the end you're in it for yourself. Know how I know?" Sara smiled as she took her right hand and pointed to the nearest laborer, a man dressed in a heavy-duty work jumpsuit colored in Pantone, generally known as Oxford Blue. "What's his name?"

Doctor Richard Sanders looked to the man in question, and then back at her. He obviously had no idea.

"It's Jonathan. Jonathan Price, from the Canadian Federal Territory of the United North American States." Sara answered, impressing the man and earning a scowl from the Doctor. "Tell me something, Mister Price. What's worth more to you right now? The rock samples you're looking through, or your two daughters back in Toronto?" She knew this information thanks to the man's medical records, almost none of the Oxford Team having ever spoken to her, either due to their own decisions or pressure from the others. The laborer looked at the samples that he had been stuffing into a bag, and then to the Corpsman.

"My kids." Jonathan, bless his heart, made up his mind. He set the bag down, and even dumped out his pockets before moving away from the shelving unit, heading to a nearby corner where he made his position known. Everyone in the tent save for Sara and the Marines watched the laborer cross the line, so to speak.

"Anyone else rather spend time with their family as oppose to a jail cell or a pine box?" The laborers and undergrads were looking at one another, the gears turning in their minds as several more stopped what they were doing and followed Jonathan Price's example, stopping in what they did, dropping their accrued possessions where they were and joined the Canadian laborer, swelling their ranks to twenty-four, more than half of the Oxford Team. That prompted more to join the growing group of those who wished to comply, like sheep following the herd. Those ones only followed because the population was greater than fifty percent, fence-sitters to the tee. That saddened Sara a bit, knowing that most would go along with popularity due to herd mentality. It was something that she had dealt with in the part on the Citadel, with Humans who visited the station and acted as if someone who permanently live there was something akin to a traitor thanks to popular opinion on Earth and her colonies. Soon, all that was left as Doctor Richard Sanders, still standing where he had been when she found him, in front of the shot terminal display unit he had been working on. "What's it going to be, Doctor? Are you a man of principle and intellect, or are you going to continue standing there like an idiot?"

"When I get back to Earth…" The Doctor began, but Sara wasn't going to have any of it.

"Don't care." She jerked her head towards the group standing to one side of her and her pair of Marines. "Now dump the pockets and go sulk with the rest of the group, Doctor Sanders." The Department Lead complied, but with eyes flashing in anger. Ryder didn't doubt he would try to make good on his threat.

Unfortunately for him, she had recorded everything thanks to her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool's record option.

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder lead the Oxford Team to the extraction point, having updated both _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus of their marching status as well as Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson of the complete situation. It had been almost thirty-five minutes since the activation of the DefConOne Alarm, some of that time spent searching for the Humans and having to _argue_ for them to comply with the evacuation. It only took fifteen minutes to lead the contingent of Humans down the fabricated staircase that reached the lower levels of the Dig Site and towards a security palisade that existed during the Prothean Era that lead towards a still-working lift that would reach another level where the extraction point could be reached. The march was a quiet one, thankfully, though Sara was dealt more than a few ugly looks from several members of the Oxford Team, mostly from two Doctors and two undergrads, whom she noted who they were. When this ordeal was over and excavation could continue because Therum wasn't under threat, Sara didn't doubt she would have difficulties afterwards. Well, between a platoon of Marines and Professor Irissa T'vara, she would have allies if she needed.

At the moment, there hadn't been any updates on why the alarm had been raised, nor any guesses to the cause. Likely, there wouldn't be any for at least a day. Perhaps more.

The evacuation point was not much more than another cavern but for one difference; through the ceiling was a hole in the bedrock large enough to pass an Armali Flight _Shu'pris_ -'75 Cargo Transportation Vessel through. From the surface, it was barely noticeable amist the jagged landscape, and from the air, it looked like a sinkhole. Gunny Halverson had chosen it for an evacuation route, and it was well-picked. No access from the surface, and no time for ground forces to prepare to shoot down the shuttles as the left, able to fly out and immediately to its destinations of safety. The sixty-eight members of the Serrice Team were already at the evacuation point, most of the members sequestered into the shuttles already for a place to sit. The twelve Reservist members were providing local security, surrounding the shuttles to protect them and the civilians as Sara entered evacuation cavern with her Marines and the forty-one members of the Oxford Team. There had been some grumbles from some of the Human members as they saw twelve armed Turians protecting the site. Evidently, some of them could put two and two together.

" _Centurion_? We've got full accountability of everyone at the evac point." Sara told Abadexus Linaseus as he approached her, still wearing his laborer robes but holding a KAL-25 in his talons with competency. She said it in a loud enough voice that many would hear her without acting as if she were announcing it. "I'll need to talk to you and the Professor. Discretely." That last bit came out in a hushed tone, Sara knowing that Turian hear was better than Humans due to their ear canals being lined to their fringes, able to sense audio vibrations at better frequencies and at lower decibels. Neither one of them were going to enjoy hearing what she had to say, but it was going to have to happen. The only way to avoid a worse scenario was to make sure that it was all out in the open, to exonerate as many of the Oxford Team as she could from possible future implications and charges if necessary. If Sara showed that there was nothing to hide, the severity of it would be lessened. "Bra? Lap Dance? Have the Oxford Team join the Serrice Team, and then take position at the evac point entrance for near-side security." Both Marines nodded their compliance as most of the Humans got the point and headed towards the shuttles, though some did so reluctantly. The Turian Reservists, for their part, merely watched silently, but seeing everything as Private First Class Holland Hoss and Private Louis Broussard moved towards the catwalk that they had taken to reach the evacuation cavern. What she hadn't said out loud was that she didn't want some of the Humans from the Oxford Team making false promises or poisoned words to her Marines, getting them involved. She didn't doubt none of the Human would try to subvert an armed Turian. But from a normal point-of-view, everything looked as it should be.

"You wished to speak to us?" Professor Irissa T'vara said after reaching where Sara and Abadexus stood, a dozen meters away from the outer perimeter ring where the Turians were providing three-hundred and sixty degree security. The Turian seemed amused that he was being included, but he was wisely silent. Even he could tell that Sara was unusual for her kind, and was giving her the benefit of the doubt. Strangely enough, Sara actually had an easier time with most Turians than she did most Humans.

"I've got something to tell you. You're not going to like it, and it's going to be a shitstorm round of bad news." Sara began, sighing as she smoothed her brunette hair back out of necessity, not relishing what she was about to get into.

"Is it war?" The Asari went to the worst-case scenario, thinking of the alert. Actually, that might not have been so bad.

"No, almost as bad though. Found the Oxford Team in _your_ Paleontechnology Tent, though." Ryder told the Professor, whose face immediately went violet with anger. "Stopped them before they could make a real hash of things, but they were most certainly searching through artifacts, papers, and terminals. One display unit was destroyed, and that was my fault. You'll be walking into a mess and a great deal of accusations and stress. Couldn't do a proper search, not with three of us. Linaseus, I'm going to need your help with that one, mostly having your Reservists to keep the Humans from trying to trade or pass off objects, and to keep the Serrice Team from getting too close, no matter how right they would be to do so. This is seventeen shades of ugly, and I'd like to keep it as professional and as proper as possible. This isn't the kind of thing worth dying or killing for."

"You'll have our help. Chief." The nod in his head told Sara that she had earned his respect. "We can make smaller groups for easier containment. Who will do the searching?"

"Mixed, for compliance, accountability, and to dissuade any improper accusations." The Petty Officer replied, doing her best to come up with a solution for the scenario by looking at it from as many angles as possible. There wasn't going to be a 'good' answer, but she could come up with a reasonable one. If this event had happened with just Humans in a Systems Alliance setting, this would end up in a Judicial Tribunal, in which wasn't the strongest point in Sara's arsenal of knowledge. On the other hand, being that more than half of the civilians were foreign citizens of sovereign states allowed to be in Alliance Space, not to mentioned sponsored by one of the most prestigious schools in the galaxy, it wouldn't be a Systems Alliance matter, but a Council of Law matter. In that, Sara Ryder knew the rules. Trying to act as diplomatically and as unbiased as possible was the best possible way to deal with this situation. "We can have three teams of searchers while we wait; three Turians, and three Humans. We switch up who watches and searches so no one is falsely accused, and have videographical evidence for proper procedures. That'll be fourteen people for two teams, and thirteen for one. Professor? I need you to be a compliance monitor, since you are the Lead of the Expedition. I've already had issues with authority, so having as many eyes during the search will be beneficial to us all, especially if someone is smuggling something they should have put back when given the chance. Plus you can collect any items located for safekeeping and return."

"What are the rules of larceny amongst the Systems Alliance?" The Dean asked, her voice cool and without emotion. Sara knew that the anger was there, just held in check. She completely understood; Ryder was plenty pissed herself for being put in this situation.

"Without going every jurisdiction? It is commonly accept that 'theft' means vacating the premise of one's own free will with an item not their own." Sara wasn't a legal expert, but the definition was pretty true-to-form. It was different than on the Citadel, in which pocketing an item with the intent to steal was considered larceny. "I gave them the chance to hand over any and all items before leaving, and they left the Paleontechnology Tent. That will be considered theft in just about any jurisdiction we can think of, and will grant a conviction in a court of law unless you got the Creds for a _really_ good lawyer." Only the Doctors would be able to pull that kind of money, and likely two of them were the ringleaders of the attempt, if the glances Sara was getting from Doctor Richard Sanders and Doctor Melissa Hildebrand. The rest might beg off with lesser sentences by stating that their jobs and careers were threatened by singing to the cops and burying the Doctors. No two ways about it, no one was walking away clean from this one if pressed. The thought of avalanching her fellow Humans didn't bring any joy to Sara at all, but what would have happened if they did steal and were accused of it was so much worse. "No lie, this will be ugly. I'll probably have it worse than _they_ will." She looked to the Turian and the Asari standing before her, and she saw they both got it, and understood why.

"I believe I've overheard that two of my team are former Hierarchy Municipal Police, so they will be good for a search and detainment if necessary." Abadexus replied after a long moment, obviously mulling it over. Hierarchy Municipal Police were something in between Civil and Military Law Enforcement for the Hierarchy, like the Military Police of the Systems Alliance. "There is another who was a part of the Safety Compliance Corps, meaning he would have checked anyone for smuggling contraband onto vessels or smuggling items off of vessels. That one will work as well. Having two sets of species working to overwatch one another will avoid some of the obvious issues, but create others. Still, it is a wise decision. I will get the necessary people ready and have the others keep an eye on the groups for fraternization and collusion."

"Having half a dozen leering Turians will get them rather compliant, especially if they're armed Turians." Sara replied dryly. She wondered how many of the Oxford Team had ever seen a Turian before the Dig Site outside of a vid or a news report. That had Linaseus' mandibles widen with a grin. Someone was going to enjoy themselves leering at the Humans. "Divide them into three groups, and let's get this situation under control. We still have no idea what raised the DefConOne Alarm, but we need to move as if we might be under threat."

"Understood." The Turian… saluted her. Seriously, Sara was just as shocked as Abadexus was, doing a double-take at the action, but not apologizing for it either. The Reservist moved back to the shuttle and began issuing orders; _her_ orders. Ryder looked to Professor T'vara, who was looking at her with a hint of amusement. Only twenty-five years prior, Turians and Humans had been embroiled in warfare. Now a Human was ordering Turians about, working together. Of course, that was on top of the fact that a bunch of Humans tried to steal the intellectual property and findings of several non-Human beings. That was a shit sandwich served as a three course meal.

"Irissa? I'm sorry my kind tried to loot your findings and research." Sara looked to the Asari, wishing she could get closer. There were too many eyes around, sadly. She couldn't say what she wanted to say. That she hoped this didn't affect their relationship, got in between them. She had worked too long and too hard to get where she was at now to merely toss it aside, but it was so nice to be able to share her efforts and accomplishments with, to someone whom such things mattered.

"You stopped them, and you are working to make sure the proper items are returned." The Dean of Prothean Research and Study of the University of Serrice replied, her face going softer. The Corpsman could tell that Irissa wished to do the same, to get closer. Whatever happened, the Professor wasn't going to hold it against her. That… had Sara relieved. She rather enjoyed what they had going on between them, and life was getting complicated enough without adding drama into it. She hadn't betrayed her kind for the love and affection of a member of another species, though some or most Humans would likely accuse her of such if they knew the truth of her relationship. No, the Oxford Team were looting their competition, and Sara would have acted in the same manner if everyone had been Human.

"I just hope that whatever's going on out there," Sara told the Asari, jerking her head up slightly to indicate the stars, and whatever had set off the DefConOne Alarm, "I hope they are doing better than we."

* * *

Author's Notes: Most include the nominal disclaimer of 'I don't own this shit, BioWare!' but I dropped a hint at the disclaimer point as to the point of this chapter with a quote from Captain David Anderson, "Reverse and hold at 38.5" to signify exactly what day this would be; the start of _Mass Effect_.

Consequently, the date of this chapter is June 6, the 'go-date' for Operation: Overlord; what everyone remembers as D-Day. This wasn't by accident, as the assault that began the Liberation of France was the largest sea invasion, was done in-near secrecy (the Germans knew 'of' it, but not the time or location), and probably still represents the largest multi-national collaboration over the widest area. The operation was in development for a year (following the disaster of the Invasion of Dunkirk), trained upon for months, and surprisingly the British lost more men in training than in the landings of Sword and Gold beach. Omaha and Utah were the American's responsibility, while the Canadians had Juno. The deception plan (Bodyguard), the bombing campaign (Pointblank) the airborne operation (Tonga), the seaborne invasion (Neptune), the misinformation campaign (Fortitude), and the tinfoil drops (Taxable) all helped to serve the landings. Surprisingly, not one objective was achieved on June 6, making D-Day a sort of strange, successful disaster were everything didn't go according to plan but the operation ended with where the Allies wanted to be; a beachhead on France. We all know what happened afterwards.

June 6th will be the Eden Prime Invasion, and likely there will be similarities between 6/6/2183 and 6/6/1945, both with the Geth and the Alliance. This, after all, will be war.

I do express the common view of military personnel on USDOD Civilians, some of it was my own. There are good, hard-working DOD employees. I just sadly didn't meet many.

I know that you probably think the Marine nicknames come from Stanley Kubrik's 'Full Metal Jacket'. Actually, nicknames have been going on for decades before that movie, probably back when we were still riding horses with long sharp sticks to impale the other guy. Every nickname I used is from a member of one of my former units in the Army. Yes, I had a 'Lap Dance' and a 'Blow Job', as well as other rather ridiculous nicknames in my various platoons. Mine? 'Jersey'. And no, I'm not from either Jersey, England, or the state of New Jersey. It was my nickname from Basic from a Drill Sergeant who called me that because I _reminded_ him of someone from New Jersey. Go figure. At least it wasn't something derogatory.

Mass Effect Canon does state that some 70% of Turians are associated through the Hierarchy, which is somewhere between a militant empire and a junta. If you look at old European royalty pre-WWI, you would see that practically all the Kings and Princes would hold court in full military uniform. So I created the Active Duty/Reservist concept that one sees in Israel and likely in North Korea as well.

In keeping up with the original Mass Effect game, I kept some of the manufacturers and weapons from that game. Haliat Armory is a smaller arms manufacturer that the Turian Hierarchy allows to sell surplus non-military grade weaponry to the civilian markets. Devlon Industry didn't come with a species-specific tag (like Sirta Foundation is a Human-created company), and the Raptor Assault Rifle is one of their weapons, a mid-grade weapon with good damage, shots before overheat, and accuracy. This will be the standard infantry rifle for the Turian Hierarchy.

The Haliat Armory's KAL-25 Personal Defense Weapon is one of my own creation. In Where The Law Stands Tall _,_ I made weapons that actually came in calibers (instead of flecks of metal) because that's what we think of when humans get guns. I will go the same route here. Pistols will be 2.5 to 5 gram weapons. Military grade rifles will fire 7.5 to 10 gram rounds. Submachine Guns will be pistol calibers, while Heavy Pistols will be in the 5 to 7.5 gram range. Shotguns will fire 20 to 30 gram shots that are divided by the number of pellets (more on this later) while sniper rifles will be in the 7.5 to 25 gram range, depending on its purpose. The KAL is based off the Colt Commando, a short-barreled AR-15 platform that can be necked into firing many pistol rounds, making it something in between a Ranch hand/Cattleman (pistol round-firing rifle) and a lightweight assault rifle safe enough to fire inside a house for defensive purposes. Cops used .38's and 9mm's for a long time because of the unlikelihood of the round penetrating drywall/insulation/drywall and being lethal/collateral damage. Ever wondered why cops don't carry .45's or Dirty Harry's? That's why.

I had to insert some pop culture and a line or two from the Mass Effect Series. Doctor Richard Sanders seriously spouts President Donal Trump's election campaign tagline (Make America Great Again!) while Sara Ryder gets to use the best quote from Andromeda where one of the Ryders gets to tell the Cardinal how they really feel while on Voeld. How's that for great? :-D

In Mass Effect Canon, Canada, the US, and Mexico are a conglomerated region known as the United North American States. I do not know if this is similar to the European Union in which is several national governments represented in a gubernational committee, or if it is ran by a singular governmental body. And… I don't actually know the official name for Canada. It's a Federation with its own royalty that can be superseded by Queen Elizabeth II, and is like… 99% free from England? I think that still makes it a Dominion, perhaps like Australia?

DefConOne - You see this in movies, and the DefCon codes do exist for the USGOV. Defense Condition One means 'attack imminent' or 'attack underway'. The numbers go from One through Five, in which Five (unlikely) is the least. We generally live in DefConFour (suspected) thanks to the threat of nuclear weapons and terrorism.

In case you hadn't realized, the DefConOne Alarm is in response to an attack only a few clusters away. This POV (an attack but somewhere else) is something most of us Americans (and English) would know thanks to various terrorist attacks. I still remember the hysteria of 9/11, the not knowing, the hushed whispers, the panicked anger, the power of rumor. I wanted a little light of the attack on Eden Prime to be from another direction, where no one knows yet, but something is happening. Yes, _you_ know what's happening, but the characters do not. The next chapter will be a September 12th-like chapter (and I hadn't forgotten that day either, as I'm sure the Greatest Generation remembered December 7th and December 8th quite well, the 'where were you?' and 'what did you do?').

'Oxford Blue' is an actual shade of blue in the azure range, making it a dark blue. It is the 'official' color of the Oxford Boat Team (their chief sport), and is used by other colleges as well, such as the University of Michigan, Penn State, UCal(Berkeley), and Georgetown. Fellows at Oxford, athletes (mind you, Cricket, Rugby, Rowing, and Polo are their big sports, as Baseball, Basketball, and American Football are not popular sports in England at all), and the 'dress' blazer are all of this color. So as a work uniform for a University of Oxford laborer, I went with the school colors.

Yes, looters during times of emergency get shot on sight. No, this isn't heavy-handed for the reasons I explained.


	5. Dig Site Alpha, V

_BioWare/EA; by your powers combined! #RBG #FML #GoPlanet!_

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 7, 2183**

Author's Note: Yes, that is in fact a _Captain Planet_ reference. OLD!

* * *

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since the DefConOne Alarm had gone off initially.

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood at the main defensive position at the entrance of the Prothean Dig Site, providing a rest period for some of her attached Marines who had been ordered to defend the Site in case of attack. Three of the Marines, Privates Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk, Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard, and Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach, were currently sequestered in the Dig Site itself, utilizing some spare cots for rest, donated by the University of Serrice Expeditionary Team, along with a space for them to bunk down for a few hours. Sara knew that to keep a Human effective, they would require at least a few hours down time per day for rest. She had instituted a rotation for rest, keeping four up while having a three-hour rest plan throughout the night for the Marines to keep enough awake for any updates while ensuring her Marines got some rest. The civilians of the Serrice and Oxford Teams were in their personnel tents, having bunked there for the night after waiting nearly twelve hours without any idea of what was happening or when the DefConOne Alarm would end. Sara made the decision to keep the group together and have the civilians get some rest in their bunks as oppose to the extraction point, letting the team members know to be ready at a moment's notice for escape and extraction. The team of Turian Reservists provided both security and overwatch of the civilians, keeping them in the living areas of the Dig Site Expedition. Sara ad made the call that no excavation or research would take place, opting to keep everyone together in case of emergency. There had been some grumbles, of course, but the Department Heads of the Serrice Team had complied with little issue thanks to Professor Irissa T'vara's agreement to the order.

It was one of the few things that went right.

The search from the previous day of the Oxford Team had gone well for the Marines and the Turian Reservists as Sara, Bra, and Lap Dance searched the Humans with the assistance of three Turian Reservists, taking turns who searched and who guarded, going from Human to Turian to back to Human for the effort. The action hadn't been very popular amongst the Oxford Team, but considering they had been caught red-handed trying to steal someone else's property, Sara was less than inclined to give a shit.

" _Doc? This is Gunny."_ Sara heard her communicator come to life, hearing the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson coming over the SquadCom. She had been performing hourly radio-checks with the TOC as was procedure, but this was the first time she had been addressed for something other than confirmation calls.

"Go ahead for Doc." Sara replied, looking over to Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong, who noticed that Ryder had instinctively pressed her hand against her helmet for better listening. Everyone in Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company had a SquadCom, but if K-Pop was looking at her inquisitively, then Gunny was only talking to her.

" _Got notification from AllComNet."_ Alliance Command Net was the secured network that sent traffic and updated statuses throughout the Systems Alliance Military. Likely, something had come down from the Admiralty Board or even the Systems Alliance Government. _"The Alert has been dropped to DefConTwo, and I'm ordering a stand-down of active units. Go ahead and have the Dig Site personnel resume normal activities, but remind them that DefConTwo means that we aren't in the clear yet. We don't need a repeat of last time."_ Halverson knew what had happened with the Oxford Team during the initial alarm, Sara having texted him the basics and filling him in on the details after the search had been completed. Three members had been found absconding items upon their persons, two of them with physical artifacts, and one with a datapad that wasn't his own, if the Asari High Script were to be any indication. Those three were under detainment, with fabricated PlastiCuffs from Sara's supply of military-grade PlastiGel stored in her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Medic Armor. Doctor Richard Sanders had been the one with the datapad that belonged to Doctor Lysana M'ala, who had been rather wroth at the fact that her notes and conjectures had been taken, and rightfully so.

"Understood, Gunny." Ryder replied. Yes, they certainly didn't need another potential intergalactic incident.

" _Doc? We'll need to have a talk when you return to the Barracks with the rest of the Marines. It's going to be about what happened."_ Sara winced as she felt a nice little hole open up in her guts. While she didn't realistically think there was a better way she could have handled the looting situation, that was just her opinion. Sadly, the right opinion would be the highest ranking one, not necessarily the best one. If some Admiral thought she should have let the Oxford Team loot to their hearts content without a thought towards the repercussions, especially since she solved said repercussions in a decent fashion, she would be tanked. Ryder could be redeployed to anywhere in the Systems Alliance, especially to less-than desirable locations. Her twin brother was already attached to a ship that maintained vigilance over a Relay. There was nothing preventing anybody to sending a Corpsman to, say, Bass Reeves Station to become a health Care Provider for the prisoners there.

"Understood." Sara felt her mouth and throat dry up at the thought, a nice sharp stab of pain in her heart. She had worked for _years_ to get where she was, volunteering to work at a clinic on the Cit when she was sixteen years old. Some Ready Room Admiral with a grudge and without a gram of compassion or consideration could easily sign off on some orders and metaphorically destroy her. Perhaps in light of the incident that had the DefConOne Alert sent might buy her time, but once things were calmed down, something would come down the pipe. Sara would never get a chance to explain her side of things and would likely find herself swabbing IV sites _in_ Venus.

It took about half-an-hour for everything to be arranged. Sara woke up Broussard, Holodansk, and Balsach after talking to Professor Irissa T'vara and Abadexus Linaseus and giving them the update about the DefConTwo status and what that would mean. Normal but limited operations were to begin for the expedition, keeping towards the main chamber for the rest of the day, which had Ryder breath a sigh of relief. If anything were to change, everyone would be close by. Sara gathered her Marines, and with a last look back towards where the Asari Protheantologist stood, the Professor looking towards her as well, Sara left the Dig Site.

It only took about ten minutes for the Corpsman and the six Marines to make their way from the Dig Site to the Barracks, walking in the oppressive, hellish conditions over Therum, being past 'noon' on the planet as Knossos baked everything upon the geologically-active colony world. Sara barely felt it, her mind on the upcoming ass-chewing and subsequent repercussions she would likely face. While she had technically not broken any laws, she could easily be Court Marshalled for a variety of reasons, but mostly due to the fact that she had worked and used Turians. Some might consider the scenario in a favorable light, considering that it was during a time of need when there was the high potential of an attack, and that Ryder had followed her orders to the letter; the defense of the civilian lives in the Dig Site. Some might see that, considering the civilian populous was multi-species, that an equal multi-species defense looked good. But there was nothing that would stop someone from quietly stabbing her in the back while praising the situation. Any kind of medical field she wished to pursue in the future would be denied, any medical license beyond reach. If someone so wanted, Sara could be Dishonorably Discharged and her career would be over. Getting a Dishonorable Discharge was met with the same light as being a convicted felon, and the employment opportunities were about the same; the lowest of menial jobs. If the Marine Privates realized or suspected it, they were thankfully silent on the matter. Minus a few stories from Private Broussard and Private First Class Hoss detailing the situation, no one had mentioned an opinion if they thought Ryder had been right to use Turians to aid in the evacuation or the searching of persons. At least not within earshot.

Petty Officer Ryder entered the Barracks through the double-lock doors, having the Marines go in first with the order to link up with their Team Leaders first for further guidance before going through the protocol door that provided an environmental barrier before entering the wig-wag. The Marines from the Night Shift were inside, out of their armor and in uniform, occupying the gallery for the noontime meal after a full day of occupying defensive positions and scrambled schedules. Likely, most would be going to sleep right afterwards in preparation for their up-coming shift. The mood amongst the gathering Marines was somber, but that was to be expected. Sara saw more than a few look her in the eye, giving her nods or hailing her in a friendly matter, and that had her feel a little bit better about the situation. If Gunny was disappointed or pissed about what she had done, it would have reflected upon the other Marines even if he hadn't voiced it openly. Her six Marines scattered to drop their armor and head for chow while Sara went to the Gunnery Sergeant's office, knocking on the door before entering.

"Sir! Petty Officer Ryder reporting as ordered." Sara saluted, preparing for the inevitable shitstorm with her name attached to it. Gunny Halverson was sitting at his desk, looking at something at his terminal when he turned in his chair and saluted her in return.

"Have a seat, Doc." His tone was… not pissed. Not happy, per se, but not pissed. Sara felt a little at a loss as she took the proffered seat, knowing that this wouldn't be an ass-chewing. One received one of those in the position of attention, not sitting in a chair. "I'm afraid I've got a spot of bad news for you, Doc."

 _Here it comes…_ Ryder prepared herself as best she could.

"I received word from Captain Anderson that the Lion was hurt."

"W-what? Is Jannie alive?" The world went sideways for a moment at thought thought of Auntie being hurt as Sara immediately sat forward in her seat, her nerves keyed for action. That same gut-wrenching feeling that had her thirteen-year old self jump Cit and tear off onto a war-torn Elysium reared its ugly head, the thought of the woman she had looked up to _her whole life_ hurt ripping the heart right out of her. Thoughts of recriminations and repercussions of what had happened with the Oxford Team immediately evaporated. Gunny Halverson knew that Sara and Commander Jane Shepard were close. Hell, any Human born in the past decade or five knew the story and had probably seen the movie, too.

"Calm down." Gunny advised, holding his hands up to reiterate his order. "I got a decent update, and if you'll let me, I'll tell it to you." Sara sat back in the chair, but the sinking feeling was still there. She still remembered well the sight of Auntie on a stretcher, barely patched up, left for dead on a hospital floor when Sara found her in Illyeria General. Jannie was as tough as they came; she was an N7, after all. But the kind, caring person that Sara was didn't think on that. Auntie was hurt, and it was all she could do to staple her ass to a chair and not jump ship. Again.

"Okay." Sara had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down _somewhat_. It was a heroic effort, but she managed. "I…. I'm ready." _GodGodGod please let her be okay!_ Sara remembered that sight again; the dried blood on hasty bandages, lying on the ground forgotten, so pale, barely breathing. _Not again. Never again._

"The Alarm was real; we were attacked." Gunny Halverson explained, and that had Ryder's soul do a lazy flipflop. "The rest of the Non-Coms know, but I wasn't about to put it over the SquadCom. Constant, Eden Prime was hit, Doc. Hard, as I understand it. Tens of thousands dead and wounded."

"Batarians?" Batarians had attacked Elysium, their forces bolstered with mercenaries, guns-for-hire, slavers, pirates, and anyone else willing to make a profit out of misery and woe. They were the most likely suspect. The thought of _ten thousand dead_ was horrifying. No, _tens_ of thousands. Sara wasn't even sure how big the colonial capital of Eden Prime was, size or population-wise.

"No. Geth."

"G-Geth!?" Ryder's jaw figuratively dropped to the floor with that. As far as anyone was aware, the Geth stayed within the Perseus Veil, leaving the rest of the galaxy alone. "The Geth hit a species they've never encountered two-thirds of the galaxy away to attack a farming colony? That makes no damn sense whatsoever!" Jesus, Eden Prime was in the same cluster as Elysium. After the Assault, patrols there were almost as heavy as they were in Arcturus Stream and Sol!

"According to Captain Anderson?" Sara perked up at the name, Gunny shaking his head at the fact that the Corpsman knew yet another legendary military hero. "There was a pick-up of an actual working Prothean Beacon that Commander Shepard was tasked with. The Geth were there for that, but she denied them the privilege."

"Shit, Gunny… we're _sitting_ on a fucking Prothean Site, and the Geth just assault a colony for a Prothean artifact?" Sara could easily put that two-and-two together and get _disaster_ written all over it. A working Beacon was rare as hell, but there was a reason why just about every Prothean site was protected by either military forces or competent security forces. ProTech was highly desirous, and brought the opportunists out of the woodworks. The 1B3/7 was on Therum to protect Dig Site Alpha because it was a full structure that had survived the eons, with everything practically still intact on the inside. Some energy corporation, an arms manufacture, pirates, extra-Council government, or whoever just wanted to snatched up something and sell it on the black markets were all possible threats. At least a full twenty percent of Prothean dig sites and research facilities suffered some form of attack, be it physical, electronic, or espionage. Just because the Dig Site didn't have a Beacon, working or not, didn't mean they couldn't face the same thing. "This use to be some sort of Government Facility of some kind, according to Professor T'vara. Next few weeks are going to be hell on our Fleets with extra defensive patrols, going through the wreckage, and rebuilding. There'll be more gaps in the borders because people in Sol and Core Colonies will be scared and crying for more vessels to protect them."

"Don't I know it." Halverson sighed, rubbing his hand through his shorn hair. "And we're off in the ass-end of Alliance Space. First fleet pulled will be ours, and likely we'll be stuck here with no support. At the very least, we're going to go over everything we learned today and fix up whatever little mistakes we made so in case it does come to us, we've had a good practice run.

"Which brings me to what happened at the Dig Site."

Fuck.

"That was a clusterfuck of epic proportions, Doc. No two ways about it." Gunny told her, and Sara felt her guts clench up again. The axe was going to come, she knew it. "I can't believe the fucking Oxford Team, of all people, were trying to loot during an emergency. Aren't they suppose to be some of the smartest fucking people in Alliance Space? Didn't it occur to them that looters get _shot_ , no questions asked? Thank God you showed up instead of Turians or Asari. That would have been… that would have been a worse-case scenario on top of a possible war."

"You're… not mad that I used Turians?" Sara asked, her tone a little weak. She was expecting recriminations.

"Not happy, but you did your job." Halverson shrugged, and Sara just felt her jaw drop. "You got stuck in a bad bind, and you used what resources were available. You walked into a potential shitstorm, and you solved it with words instead of bullets. The worst that happened yesterday was hurt feelings. Oh, sure, I'm sure _someone_ will cry about it, but believe me, Doc, you handled that damn well. I wouldn't have used Turians, and then what would have happened if we _were_ attacked and I was somewhere else?" The Gunny shrugged as pulled out a datapad. "I'm going to do an evaluation for a CYA for you in cause someone feels the need to lodge a formal complaint. In a State of Emergency, we have the ultimate authority, and we're practically allowed to do whatever we need at the time. You didn't cause an incident, and everyone walked away breathing. That's a win in my book, Doc. Pretty big one, too."

"Still feel like someone's going to come by and crush me." Sara admitted.

"Sara? I get it that you're Cit-born, and been living with them your whole life." Halverson said, and shockingly he didn't say anything negative about it. Sara was more than use to that with humans that learned that tidbit. "You used it to your advantage, and hell, the Turians were pleased with you as I understand it. Professor T'vara did a quick summary of the incident and forwarded to me, complementing you on your professionalism and judgment. She says she's going to keep any formal complaints from being lodged against the Oxford Team, and that's a hell of a bullet to dodge. Ain't exactly friendly towards others, but in my mind, I'm happy if we're not neck-deep in some shit, especially when it's some enterprising motherfucker who's in it for a profit. Go ahead and fill out everything that happened and download any footage you have in cause it comes up. I'll forward my view in your favor as well. But honestly Sara? You saved us big time there. I'd probably have shot someone to get the point across, and I'm not keen on shooting civilians to keep the rest of them from doing something stupid. Nasty business, that."

"Yeah." Sara had been rather afraid it might have come to that, thanks to Doctor Richard Sanders. Thankfully, the only thing shot was a display unit. "Honestly, if we get another Alarm or something similar, it would be silly not to have those Turian Reservists as a back-up plan. If something occurs that is out-of-norm, we're not having to pull Marines where we need them most to assess or develop the situation. I've already developed a pretty good repertoire with Abadexus Linaseus, and the other Turians followed his lead. Something occurs again, and they're almost going to expect to be called up again." Gunnery Sergeant Halverson looked at her for a long moment, and Sara pretty much figured she just shoved her foot in her mouth.

"I'm not exactly partial to it, but considering what happened yesterday and how it turned out, I can't say your line of thinking is wrong." Ryder's Commanding Officer replied finally after mulling it over. "Two days ago, I'd have said not a chance in hell. Anyone else in your situation would have handled it differently, and I can honestly say that it wouldn't have been a good thing. Go ahead and run with it, Doc. I can't say what might happen or when it will happen, but having a few extra options wouldn't hurt. It isn't like the Turians will be a bunch of civilian pukes armed with crap weapons who _think_ they're badass. They've been trained, and they know how to take orders. Having an in with… _Centurion_ , was it? _Centurion_ Linaseus is certainly a positive thing, means you two won't be butting heads when seconds matter. End of the day, our mission is the protection of the lives at the Dig Site, all of them. If the Council makes us patrol their borders, then we should be allowed to use others to help us in our efforts."

* * *

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie? R U Ok? :'-(

Petty Officer Sara Ryder had Chirped that message almost seven hours before to her Aunt Jannie, and hadn't gotten a response back. Normally, she didn't worry about delays, understanding that between different space/time zones, time lag, different shifts, and the fact the both of them had pretty involved jobs and duties, that a quick response was almost never to be expected. But hearing how her Auntie was hurt on Eden Prime had Sara thinking the worse; Jannie in surgery, in critical condition, prospects not looking so great. She was spending her time in the Clinic, updating some of the evacuation protocols, including the Turian Reservists and coming up with some different ideas in case the unlikely should happen. As Gunnery Sergeant Fredrick Halverson said, it was a good test run in case the real deal should happen. Sara felt a bit better with all that happened in the Dig Site, knowing that not only had she gotten her Commanding Officers' approval, but any forwarding complaints by the Serrice Team would actually be in a positive light towards her. True, some politician might make words about how Sara could have 'helped' humanity, but she really could give two fucks less about some Earth-born mouthpiece. Sara fiddled with her Tech Armor Project, studied up on Turian Basic Aid, and wrote up a summary on the Marines who had been with her during the Alert, sending memos to their team leaders about their actions individually. Sara had been fortunate that they had followed their orders to the letter, and none of them had shirked from their duties. She also wrote (and erased, and re-wrote, and re-erased, and finally just blathered something out) an EN-mail to Irissa, knowing that the Professor was likely busy with clean-up with the Paleontechnology Tent and smoothing out feathers. Sara hoped that they would be able to see each other tonight; she needed someone to talk to and unload a little bit of the stress of the past day.

Seven hours before she finally got a response from Auntie.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

No worries, kiddo. I'm still amongst the land of the living.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

OMG! I was really getting worried! I know Poppa Bear would have mentioned if the worst happened.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

How bad?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Me? Or the mission?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

No offense, but I could give two fucks about the mission.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I shouldn't say that. I heard Constant was hit hard, lots of casualties. #KickTheCans

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I don't know what happened except that the Geth attacked Eden Prime, and that it was for a Prothean Beacon.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

My main concern is U, Auntie, of course. R U Ok?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Took a strange hit. Got fried by a Prothean Beacon. Security field plus something else.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Don't know what to make of it.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Want me 2 ask around?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I am at a Prothean dig site. With some of the top experts, after all.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I mean… it wasn't just electrical, was it? If it were, I'd doubt u'd B concern.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Dunno, kiddo. Got hit, and… had the most vivid dream ever.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Like I was stuck in a nightmare for days.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

What's weird is that it isn't fading away like a normal dream, ya know?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

What was the dream about? And how many senses could U use?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Like… all of them. Srsly. I didn't go out and taste stuff, but I could taste it too.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

And I was in a warzone. Not Elysium or some other place.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

It wasn't a war, it was a slaughter. Some race I didn't recognize fighting off machines or synthetics.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Mental download, perhaps? We don't have the tech 4 that, but if it was a Prothean Beacon?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I seem 2 recall Beacons have done that B4. Interacted with someone, put something in their head.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie, those people lost their minds after a while. :'-(

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I'm worried. Srsly.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Pro. T'vara would know more about this. Can I talk 2 her about it?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

I'm not exactly keen on that.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I know. But U are at stake.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I don't wan on a hospital bed again, alone and left 2 die. #NeverAgain

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

What would U say if the situ was reversed?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I just don't want to say goodbye. I don't want a repeat of Mom.

There was a good fifteen minute lull after that. Sara wasn't exactly worried, but she wondered if Auntie really was okay. Jannie always was a stubborn one, insisting that everything was fine despite the evidence. Sara noted that Jane really hadn't gone into actual details about what had actually happened during the mission, or her. She briefly wondered where Auntie was at. It had best be at a Med Clinic on a Medical Vessel or Arcturus Naval Medical Clinic. Sara wondered if Jannie was busy or mulling it over. She had gone for a low blow, but this was important to her. Sara had watched her mother waste away from Aggressive Entropic Neurological Dystrophy, turning that wonderful woman into a prisoner of her own failing body. It had slowly tore Sara's heart apart, watching her Mom wilt and decay like that, her body finally failing her. Being powerless to do anything about it had been the worst thing for her to suffer. Sara had held onto Scott and Dad as they said their final goodbyes, the twins' mother living just long enough to see them graduate, just before they were to head off to Boot Camp.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Ugh. I'm back. Sry bout that.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Goddamn politicians. Just had a nice meet with the Dumbassador. #WhattaAsshole

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Wanted to slam my forehead into the prick's face.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Ur on the Cit?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

So soon?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

N, remember? #GreenPickleAward

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Got a few minutes before I get to talk to the evil alien overlords.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie. Classified aside, WTAF is going on?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

U wouldn't be seeing the _Three_ 4 a colonial invasion.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Can't say. Srsly.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Only me and Poppa Bear knows. Well, until Boo-dina blurted it out in front of two crew members. #WhattaAsshole

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

OMFG!

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

RUSRS!

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

R U saying what I'm thinking?!

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Supposedly. Before this fiasco… yes.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie! No way! Like… WOW!

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

DoubleN7!

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Okay, I'm hashtagging that. #DoubleN7!

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Might get buried though. Between what happened, Boo-dina, and the Three? Ugh. #GreenPickleAward

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

My fingers and toes R crossed, Auntie.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Proud of U, Jannie #SecretAgentMan

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

That aside, I noticed U avoided answering. #SoNotTalkingToYou

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Should I bring this up with Pro. T'vara? U know I have Ur best interest in heart.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

What would U do if it were me?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Low blow, kiddo.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

You're an N. Gotta use extreme measures. #GreenPickleAward

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

I guess I should be happy you're not pulling the Elysium card on me.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I hate feeling helpless. U know that. #NeverAgain

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

She's professional? Not some loon whose gonna crack my head open and take a peek?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

No.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

She knows how much U mean 2 me.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

I talk about U a lot. I'm sure you're aware.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Okay, talk to her. See what she has to say.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

At the least I'm looking at options.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Ugh. This damn elevator. Why are Cit elevators so slow?

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Elcor get motion sick if they go 2 fast.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Want 2 get stuck in a box with a barfing 1 ton xeno-pachyderm?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

And my Colonial Soldier is laughing her ass off at that response. #ThatsJustEww

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder spent a portion of that evening working on her pet project, fully caught up with her college course and correspondence courses as well. During the DefConOne Alert, Sara had been wishing she had her project ready in at least a prototype phase in case the worse should happen, and armed with he knowledge that the worst _did_ happen on Eden Prime, she was resolved into making a functional unit albeit with a few tweaks and upgrades in the future. Even a semi-decent model could be the difference between life and death, and the worlds _tens of thousands dead and wounded_ renewed her vigor to the armor enhancement. How many lives could have been saved in Constant if Colonial Marines had the very device she had been working on? Not only theres, but the civilian lives they could have saved armed with the knowledge they could take a few more hits?

She was working on the exploded diagram of the prototype, configuring the OmniGel Dispersal Units, having figured out how to keep the fluids evenly distributed along the encoded matrix and armor without getting in the way of the other pieces. Really, it had been as simple as a designated electromagnetic field, shored up by a simple border of Nickle-Iron mixture known as MuMetal or NiFe, easily produced with MetalGel and an OmniTool minifabricator. Sara had her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Medic Armor in the Clinic with her as she minifabricated a thin wire of MuMetal along the chassis of her chestpiece, barely using a hundred grams of low-quality MetalGel to complete the task before connecting it to the device's battery supply. Satisfied with her progress, Sara put on the chestpiece, powering up the armors' subsystems with her Hahne-Keder Bluewire Omnitool, linking the 'Tech Armor' subroutine as a selectable app on her armor's configuration during responses. Theoretically, all she had to do was switch her Omnitool to 'War' applications, and hit the 'Tech Armor' app, and let the program do the rest.

"Time for a test run." Sara said to herself as she ran a quick diagnostic of her armor, satisfied that everything was in order. And then she hit the 'Tech Armor' app.

Four OmniGel dispersal nodules immediately gushed out decagrams of OmniGel, rushing over the surface of her Phoenix Armor as Sara watched on. Thanks to the electromagnetic field projected by the armor's power system and contained by the addition of the MuMetal border she had made, the OmniGel coating stayed within the targeted perimeters of the chestpiece, not only along its surface but also within a set depth of two and a half centimeters. It took five seconds for chestpiece to be coated, the OmniGel curing quickly as it hardened into the consistency of the thermoplast commonly known as UHMWPE. Sara looked down at her worn chestpiece as she saw a semi-transparent yellowish layer coating over her chest piece, completely to the dimensions of her Phoenix Armor's chestpiece, and seemingly uniform in depth.

"Hey! I think it worked!" The young woman gushed as she smiled at her armor, seeing the Imperial inch-thick coating over her high-tempered ceramic-and-hardened alumnisteel chestpiece, poking at it with a finger. It felt as firm as thick-gauge plastic, stiff and dense. It looked like it went off without a hitch thanks to her programming and modifications. With this, she could modify a rig for her armor in little time, incorporating the program and system to deliver the same results to every hard surface of her armor, literally creating a second skin that would, in theory, absorb more kinetic force and shatter locally due to its crystalline molecular construction to limit damage and encourage blunting said force. If she could get a 'real-world' test and analyze it…

…God, she could revolutionize the armor industry! Save _lives_!

Sara Chirped Professor Irissa T'vara of the development, asking her to visit Sara when she had a chance as the Corpsman took off her armor, scanning it with her Bluewire Omnitool and getting a more focused layout on her diagnostics program, looking for any flaws or impurities in either the curing process, the delivery process, or the overall finished product. Scanning took all of ten seconds. Diagnosing every cubic centimeter for any flaws took twenty minutes, making sure the that surface of the hardened OmniGel was two and a half centimeters from the surface of the chestpiece for both conformity and assurance. Sara knew (thanks to math and her diagnostic program) how much kinetic force the OmniGel plate could take at a depth of two and a half centimeters. If a small portion were thicker, then that meant somewhere else it was thinner; a weak point. She had used two hundred-and-fifty grams of OmniGel in the process to get the right layer and dimensions, and one segment that was off meant that it had gone somewhere else and needed modification. Sara went over the armor and the diagnosis with a the proverbial fine-tooth comb when there was an electronic knock on the door.

"It's open!" Ryder called out without thinking as she continued to examine her invention, going over the exploded wireframe of her original schematic and then the finished product, finding it to be a success. Now she would have to find a way to get to the fun part; shoot at it and see if the 'self-healing' program would seal any cracks or fill-in any missing piece to continue affording such protection.

"You finished it?"

"Irissa!" Sara stopped what she was doing to turn and smile at the Asari Protheantologist, seeing the Matriarch in… well… _not_ her University of Serrice work jumpsuit. She was wearing something over her body that looked to be worn as acceptable outerwear for less-than-ideal conditions for an Asari, generally what humans called 'Catwoman Suits'. It was a one-piece black piece that was… _quite_ form-fitting. Sara had to clear her throat as her mouth went dry at the sight. The Catwoman Suit went from collar bone to ankle, and all the way to the wrists, but was so conforming that it left extremely little to the imagination. Strangely enough, Asari considered it a rather conservative outing garment, and most Asarikin would think Irissa doing but a simple walk outside in something suitable for the environment. For Sara? It was making her heart flutter and _that_ to ache. Conservative her ass. It was form-fitting enough to see Irissa's dimpled navel. Still, Sara wasn't complaining.

"Yes, I did finish it! Well, a successful test-run, at least." Sara stood up from her terminal as she was pouring over her results to show off her accomplishment to the University of Serrice's Dean of Prothean Research and Study, almost giddy. "The trick was electromagnetics! There's just enough magnetic properties in OmniGel to localize a mold, and even to help cure it! It takes about five seconds to deploy, and if my math is right, this can take a point-blank blast from most military-oriented shotguns without penetrating the user!"

"That is certainly an accomplishment." The Asari replied as Sara held her blue hand, standing by her side as they looked at the chestpiece of the Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Medic Armor. "Imagine the applications this endeavor will wrought. The lives it might save."

"I know." Sara squeezed the Asari's hand knowing that Professor T'vara saw it in the same light she did; health care providers from different walks of life that saw such duties as honorable, righteous even. Yes, likely the design would filter down into the ands to those who did not deserve it; mercenaries, slavers, and such ilk. But in Sara's mind, it would first go to those who stood for the common good. Law enforcement agents who walked the beat in the Cit Blocks and on homeworlds, military personnel who protected worlds, good men and women who looked out for the innocent, men and women like her father and Auntie. Giving them an extra chance at duty, at life? It was worth the hours at the project, the endeavor she had put into it. "Now that I have the matrix encoded, I can apply the technique to all the hard surfaces to the armor, making it to where it will protect all the vital areas. The MuMetal band that I incorporated to the border of the chestpiece will help me with the helmet where I can incorporate an OmniGel dispersal nodule to the base of the helmet at the back of the neck. I don't rightly know if it will stand up to most sniper rounds, but I think the common M-97 Viper that the Hierarchy uses might need two shots, likewise the Hahne-Keder M-42 Hammer Sniper Rifle that we use in the Alliance. Not that I'm hoping we test it out in a war anytime soon, but with Eden Prime…"

Lord, how many lives might have been saved if Colonial Marines had her design? Not that Sara was blaming herself considering she hadn't even finished the project yet. But she was hardly inventing new technology, merely using already-existing objects and incorporating them into a design that had been theorized but never actuated. At least not a design that had been produced as far as Sara was aware.

"You have done well, fair one." Irissa's hand went to the back of Sara's head, her fingers intertwining through Sara's brunette hair. The Asari found the Human's 'silky movable crest' fascinating, and Sara noted that Irissa enjoyed the feel of it just as much Sara enjoyed having it played with. "Have you thought about the idea I had come up with?"

"I did, actually!" Ryder smiled as she keyed up her secondary project, marked 'Life Armor'. "Same design, but the OmniGel dispersal nodules get swapped out for a few different designs; fire suppression, smoke screen for advance and retreat for military units as well as civilian evacuation, and something that occurred to me the other day; holographic light projections.

"I call it a tactical cloak program." Sara smiled as she showed the specs of what appeared to be a duel camera system for each port; one receiver, and one projector. "While it wouldn't necessarily be 'true' camouflage depending on speed and environment, I think I can make a system that can basically 'shade' a user to where a casual observer can miss an operative, and perhaps even someone focused and alert. This… this I'm thinking of making for Auntie." This kind of program wouldn't be sold to the markets, the implications staggering. While she wasn't species-centric by any stretch of the imagination, the 'tactical cloak' program would be for the N's, people like Jannie, David Anderson, Stacy Valentino, Royce Mason, and her father; her crazy SpecOps family. Auntie loved her gadgets and toys, and something like this would have her geeking out. Having an N Operative being able to move from location to location 'under the radar' so to speak would bring a huge advantage to those she she loved and called family. The other designs she could bring about for production through one of the bigger armor manufacturers, but the tactical cloak program would go to the Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative, those that made N-specific weapons, armor, equipment, and resources. Sara knew a good many N's due to her Dad, Poppa Bear, Auntie, Aunt Val, Uncle Royce, and the various friends and acquaintances from their units.

Okay, she might leave herself a pranking opportunities were too good to pass up upon.

"Was this what you wished to talk to me about?" Irissa asked as her hand went back to Sara's hair, her blue fingers sliding into her locks as Ryder gave off a pleased noise, enjoying the affection.

"No, but I'm certainly glad you got to see a good stopping point to it." Sara saved the diagnostics and results of the test-run, intending to install the OmniGel dispersal units into the rig that would go along with her armor tomorrow for a full-body trial. "No, there's something important Prothean-wise. I don't know a great deal, but… it concerns my Aunt Jannie." The Professor must have noted her tone because her fingers stopped combing through her hair as the Matriarch looked at her with some concern. "She… she was on Eden Prime when it was attacked by the Geth. The Alliance hasn't put it out, but the main objected was evidently a working Prothean Beacon."

"Goddess! I am surprised I was not contacted." The Professor exclaimed, and Sara had to admit that she saw politics involved. One functional Beacon… one Human SPECTRE in trade? Se knew a fair deal about the backroom politics thanks her her fathers' work in the Diplomatic Security Services in the Human Embassy back when Anita Goyle was still Ambassador. High-level Prothean finds would always involve the Council of Three. Chances were, it had likely be recently unearthed. Sara had a feeling that Auntie had been _sent_ to Eden Prime because of the Beacon, probably a pick-up. Didn't she say that she was now the XO of a top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art, brand-new Frigate, first of its class? And Poppa Bear was her CO.

SPECTRE mission, kept under wraps. But then the Geth intervened.

That was certainly fishy, wasn't it?

"Implications aside, Auntie was able to keep the Beacon from Geth hands." Sara continued, and she saw the Professor's eyes widen at the thought of such an artifact in the hands of the Geth. "Don't know why the Geth wanted it, but they crossed two-thirds of the galaxy and invaded a planet for it. But sometime during her securing it, she or the Geth activated the security field…"

"Goddess! Is she alive? Sane?" The Dean was immediately keyed up, a look of utter concern on her face. "Sara, Prothean Beacons are _dangerous_."

"I-I know. I was taught in the Presidium Academy, and I remember that in my CitHistory classes." While other human children learned Earth History, Sara and Scott Ryder were learning about Citadel History, about Asari explorers and Salarian scientists. "I convinced her to let me talk to you about it because I remember the dangers and… what might happen." All Sara knew was of several incidences in which some scientist or researcher had accidentally interacted with a Beacon and had either their brain fried or lost their touch on reality completely. "While she didn't tell me much, Auntie did give me permission. I… I don't want anything to happen to her."

"You are a good clan member to her, Sara Ryder, fear not." The Asari smiled at her, holding her hand in comfort. "She very well may need help, and it is unfortunate that the best possible means is either on Thessia or here on Therum. Honestly, Doctor Liara T'Soni may be a good possibility as she has several research papers documenting the spoken ramblings of those that survived but succumbed to madness in her mass extinction theory. I believe that is where she originally inherited the idea."

"Mass extinction…" The Petty Officer mumbled, remembering what Jannie had told her. "Irissa, Auntie said she was in the most vivid dream she had ever had, and all she saw was _war_ , a race she didn't recognize fighting of machines or synthetics. She said that she could use all five senses, and that she felt like it lasted for days. I think… she might still be able to see it or feel it, by the way she barely described it to me. Jannie doesn't like admitting to weakness or that something might be wrong, so if something concerns her, it's a lot worse than she lets on. I just… hate feeling helpless. Like with my Mom."

"I know, fair one. We all face that feeling, but the difference is that you are doing what you can to aid her when she needs it most." The blue hand squeezed her own, and Sara knew that Irissa was right. She wasn't helpless, she was just not the person Auntie needed to see. But she was trying to make that happen, and that was what mattered. "You are a good Maiden, Sara Ryder. Do not doubt yourself, and do not belittle yourself. You have accomplished much, and you seek to do better for both yourself and for others. In that, you are an exceptional person I am proud to have known and met." The Asari's forehead touched her own in affection, and Sara found herself smiling at the gesture.

"Been a tough couple of days. Hopefully we can get a little bit of peace and quiet." The Petty Officer told the Dean as she gave the Professor a less-than chaste kiss upon her cheek.

"It seems that 'peace and quiet' is not what you have in mind, Chief." Irissa replied, rather bemused as a smile grew on her cerulean lips. "Is it?"

"No, not really." The Corpsman chuckled as she kissed Irissa deeply, feeling that electric tingling in her lips that inflamed her passions and hormones, that awoken that urge within her to share herself with this heavenly creature. "I seem to remember you suggesting something the other night that shocked even me."

"Oh?" Sara knew that she had Irissa there as the Asari's brow went up inquisitively. "Is the Maiden feeling frisky?"

"Why don't you come over here and find out?"

* * *

Fine: ARC I, Dig Site Alpha

 **ARC II: Fall Of The House Of Therum**

 **June 15, 2183**

 _One week later…_

 _User has logged on._

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie! We're under attack! It's the Ge

 _The subscriber is no longer in service. Please contact Skywire Customer Service if you feel this message is in error, available 24/7 throughout the galaxy!_

* * *

Author's Notes: Like the foreshadowing? Stay tuned for Arc II: Fall Of The House Of Therum.

Those who have been Dishonorably Discharge do have about the same opportunities as a convicted felon who has finally served their time; which is to say not much. It's actually not easy to get a Dishonorable Discharge, and you really have to do something stupid to get one. President Gerald Ford was lambasted rather harshly for pardoning Vietnam-Era Draft Dodgers for their Dishonorables (which is why you see on employment applications the question as to why you might be a convicted felon; Draft Dodging during the Vietnam Era came with a felony conviction, but it was supposedly annulled. Nothing stopping an employer ((like a veteran)) from holding it against you though. That isn't illegal.)

I mentioned in the previous chapter and this one the repercussions of what might happen to someone who acts unorderly during a time of crisis, as well as in Where The Law Stands Tall. Yes, police can shoot looters and rioters on sight if given permission. You might ask why, but the answer is pretty obvious; interference of emergency personnel during said time of crisis. Whatever bad thing is going on, such people are adding to and pulling away necessary personnel to solve things in a decent and timely matter out of stupid reasons, such as greed. While I wasn't in America during Hurricane Katrina (I was deployed to Baghdad at the time) I remember footage of people breaking into stores to steal electronic equipment, forcing police and others to limit said activities as oppose to helping good people in a time of need. Because we need that flat-screen TV to float on during a flood.

Ellen (Harlow) Ryder suffered AEND, which wasn't defined. So I came up with something that fits the acronym, and sounds a lot like Lou Gehrig's (ALS, or Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis). In reality, radioactive isotopes generally affect the lymphatic system, while large-scale radioactive bombardments (like meltdowns and explosions) will generally kill your bone marrow, liver, and spleen. And yes, you look like you 'melt', losing weight while your skin changes colors, peels and sloughs off, while you lose hair and become a husk. Not a pretty way to go. Since Eezo exposure comes in two forms, radiation and dust (particalization), it would likely be either lymphatic cancer or lung cancer in Ellen's case, though considering the unique properties of element Zero, I went with neurological since there isn't any kind of cure for such afflictions such as ALS, Multiple Sclerosis, or Parkinson's.

I mention the Green Pickle Award. This is a joke award in the Army (and the Marines, I think). The person who seems to get screwed over the most (usually their fault) and pulls the most details, the most cleaning duties, picked on the most, etc., earns the Green Pickle Award. Yes, it's an euphemism for the Army (or Corps) fucking you over with the big green dick.

I think everyone's bashed the elevator joke about the long rides on the Citadel. In Mass Effect vs. Aliens 2: Valkyrie Rising, _Chapter 11: Eindenjar_ , I mention that the reason they are slow is that native Dekunnan's (Elcor) get motion sick, and will barf if they go too fast. I'm sticking with this reason.

Thermoplasts make up virtually all forms of plastic you are aware of, from trashbags to high-performance parts in cars and airplanes, to even astronaut suits. UHMWPE is specifically Ultra High Molecular Weight Polyethylene, which is used in some bulletproof armor. When I made PlastiGels for the Peacemaker Series, Thermoplast was one of the manufacturing compounds. Look this one up on Wikipedia for the many uses from Nylon to Teflon! The name comes from the fact that it is heated to be formed, and hardens into shape. The amount of plastic products that are Thermoplasts is simply staggering, from plastic silverware, to action figures, to tupperware, all the way to airline parts, space shuttle components, and even the casing to your car's battery. SCIENCE!

I have Asari have navels (belly buttons). Turians don't have one, as they are an Oviparity species (born from eggs). Likely, Salarians won't have one either, as they are likely born from eggs, too. Quarians and Batarians are likely Viviparity like Humans, giving birth to live young, while the Drell might be ovoviviparity, which the young are born in eggs in the mothers' belly, and crawl/birth out. Hanar are likely Oviparity (as they are aquadic), but I imagine that Elcor and Volus are Viviparity.

This is the first time I mention which 'combat profile' Shepard is. I am not really sticking to the 'traditional' roles that Mass Effect had, nor will I completely incorporate the ones from Andromeda. Jane Shepard will be a Tech Warrior, as she will have Combat and Engineering skills, but not as an Infiltrator. She'll use a rifle, but otherwise she's tech'ed out.

Would a Customer Service and Support Hotline in a galaxy be 24/7? It sounds better than 'anytime'.


	6. Fall Of The House Of Therum, I

_BioWare/EA; it's in the game!_

 **Systems Alliance Diplomatic Docks, Lower Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 15, 2183**

Author's Note: Install DLC Characters? Y/N? (Wai… what?)

And now meet Humanity's First SPECTRE. I invented a new class: Tech Warrior. This Lion has toys.

And onto your regularly scheduled fanfic!

* * *

 _I can't believe it, I'm a Council Agent. A SPECTRE._

Commander Jane Catherine Shepard stood at the Diplomatic Docks for the Systems Alliance and Human Embassy, situated 'under' the Presidium Lower Ring of the Citadel, usually just referred to as 'the Cit'. Berthed in the docks was the SSV _Normandy_ , a one-of-a-kind Stealth Frigate that, just a couple of hours prior, was handed to her by none other than Poppa Bear, Captain David Edward Anderson. The ceremony that had involved the entirety of the crew of the _Normandy_ had been both touching and sorrowful as Jannie took command of Poppa Bear's ship, her heart aching with the act. When her father died fighting int he First Contact War when she was three, Lieutenant (junior grade) John Michael Shepard's best friend, Lieutenant (junior grade) David Anderson had honored his friend by becoming a godfather to his best friends' daughter. Jannie couldn't remember her father; she had pictures, mementos, and stories, of course! But Poppa Bear had been her dad, the one who helped raise her along with her mother, Captain Hannah Singer. Jannie looked up to Poppa Bear her whole life, the very model of a man, a warrior, and a father. Succeeding him had been a tearful joy.

Losing him had been a knife to the heart.

"You'll do well, Jannie." Poppa Bear told her as they stood together, looking upon the vessel in question, a Human-Turian hybrid Frigate built around the concept of a Stealth vessel meant for long-range reconnaissance and silent running. "I have every faith in you, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Poppa Bear." The compliment was a bittersweet pill, one that came with a bitter taste. For three weeks, Jannie got to serve alongside her dad for the first time, to really get to know him as a leader and as a man. Before, he was both father and role model, one that she strove hard to be like, to be respected by. All she wanted in her life was to make Poppa Bear proud of her, no matter how many times he told her he already was. Being his Executive Officer was a dream come true, working alongside him day in and day out, to be an example to her subordinates, both Commissioned Officers and Non-Commissioned Officers. For three weeks, there was no other place she wanted to be, working alongside the one they called the Black Fox, the First N7, a hero through and through, tested and proven on the battlefields of Shanxi. It was a dream of hers to work with him, and Poppa Bear admitted to Jannie that he too had looked forward to the opportunity to have her at his side.

And then a backstabbing motherfucker had gone and ruined it.

"I just wish…" Words failed her. _I need you_ , Jannie wanted to say, but there were too many people on the docks. Now she was a full-fledged SPECTRE, and she needed that guidance, that assurance, that wonderful man in her corner, giving advice and that knowing smile. Being the Commanding Officer of her own vessel was a goal she was secretly thrilled at, but not at the price that was being paid now. "Can't we tell that snake to go fuck himself and have you come? The XO position did just open up, after all." That had Poppa Bear chuckling with some amusement.

"Every father's dream is to have their kid succeed them. Being their subordinate?" The dark-skinned man groused with a bemused smile as he looked at her fondly. "Jannie, I'm proud of you. Not because of what you've achieved, but because you were able to do so because of who you are. You wouldn't have succeeded if you weren't so determined, so willing to push yourself further and better. The Council had a point; it takes a certain type a person to achieve greatness, and it starts with themselves. And I am proud to have been a part of that journey, Jannie, to watch you grow into something beyond magnificence. My daughter, the SPECTRE." As always, there was that hint of sorrow behind those chocolate eyes, and Jannie knew what it was about; Poppa Bears' own SPECTRE Candidacy Trial. It irked her to no end that the same asshole Turian that practically framed her Poppa Bear was also responsible for Eden Prime and now a whole slue of other crimes. Payback was going to be a sweet, sweet dish she was going to serve with a smile. And bullets.

"Well, we'll be disembarking in a few hours once we finish up loading the extra supplies, equipment, and support systems for my new guests." The effort to discredit Council Agent Saren Arterius had been aided by a host of people that hadn't been Human, giving Jannie the evidence, proof, and confirmation to revoke Saren's immunity status and label him an Enemy of the State.

There had been Detective Garrus Kaaldon Vakarian, a Special Crimes Unit Investigator and a sniper of the Citadel Rapid Response Unit (RRU), or CitSWAT, who had collaborated leads. There was the 'big game hunter', Urdnot Wrex, a Krogan of impressive size and violence, hired out to take on the hard jobs that most mercs and hitmen walked away from due to the difficult, picking up a hit from the Shadow Broker himself. There were the Quarian Pilgrims, Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay, who had hard data evidence of Saren's involvement with both the Geth and being on Eden Prime itself. And then there was Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka, a Salarian Union Special Tasks Group Operative who had complied and verified several files, being audio, visual, and data, as accurate and unedited, including Jannie's combat footage of that smugglers' eyewitness testimony. Each had helped out in a significant way, and each professed to wishing to aid in the endeavor for a variety of reasons.

A big part of her wanted to say no, but Jannie remembered Eden Prime. The fires, the bodies, the conversions of corpses into monstrosities, the horde of Geth hardware platforms, the tense moments when First Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko hacked and deactivated an Anti-Matter Bomb. Humans had been slaughtered in Constant, and a full Battalion of Colonial Army Soldiers had lost their lives fighting the Geth to protect the civilians and the Prothean Beacon, all of them losing their lives save one, Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams. Who was to say how many more lives would have been saved if Jannie had gone in with a bigger team? Would Corporal Richard Jenkins still be alive? Would Council Agent Nihlus Kryik? She had sent a request to the Navy Bureau of Personnel requesting additional Sailors and Marines, the _Normandy_ running off a skeleton crew meant for a shakedown run, not a Capture-or-Kill SpecOps mission. The way that Dumbassador Donnel Udina spouted off about 'his' report to the Alliance Parliament made it sound like he was going to discredit her the first chance he got. That would complicate things.

If she was forced to make do with what she got, then Jannie couldn't afford to be too choosy. She was going after one of the best, after all.

"Where to, first?" Poppa Bear asked.

"To find and locate Doctor Liara T'soni." Jannie replied, looking to the dark-skinned man. "This shit started over ProTech, and she's supposedly an expert that may have ties to either Saren Arterius or this Matriarch Benezia T'soni. Denying him his little prize is a win, and then I can see what she knows about the Beacon or this… Conduit." Jannie had no idea what the 'Conduit' was, save that Saren was looking for it, and it had evidently require the Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime. Tali'Zorah's evidence had been an audio file with both Saren's and Benezia's voice, mentioning the Conduit and the Reapers. Jannie figured them to be a threat much like the Rachni; something that might be behind a locked Mass Relay or something inaccessible at this time. A conduit was a channel or device meant to transport or convey something, so Jannie figured it to be a far-flung Mass Relay, or perhaps a means of communication. She didn't want to admit that she thought that Councilor Sparatus Quinlinis was likely right; a hyper-advanced synthetic species wouldn't obscure themselves for so long. But the dreams showed her… something. They didn't make any sense, though, no matter how hard Jannie tired.

She hadn't had a full nights' rest since Eden Prime.

"Know where she is?"

"No, but I know of the name." Jannie wasn't sure of where she had heard of it, but she recognized it almost immediately after Councilor Tevos T'essus mentioned that Benezia had a daughter, a Doctor of Protheantology. The N7 had already contacted the Asari Embassy to inquire the good Doctor's location, and had gotten the standard-and-expect _we're so sorry, but fuck you_ response she'd expect from the Embassy of the Thessian Republic of City-States. That hadn't been their exact words, but that had been the gist of it. The next call had been to the University of Serrice, where Doctor T'soni had received her Doctorate and was employed as a researcher. Their Personnel Office had been extremely apologetic in their refusal, admitting that they didn't release information about persons or their locations due to security concerns, which Jannie got. Still, a pain in the ass, but at least it hadn't been _fuck you_. So… she was going to have to find Doctor T'soni the hard way. Where the hell would she find a Protheantologist?

Wait.

Jannie opened up her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris Omnitool, looking at the app screen and clicking on the Chirper App. Sara and her had been exchanging regular correspondences for years, minus a few periods of time such as when little Sara went to Boot Camp or Field Medical Training Battalion, or when Jannie underwent some more advanced training courses or a mission that required radio-silence. It was good hearing from Ryder and her time on Therum, the Corpsman having reached where she wanted to be; a Fleet Marine Corpsman attached to a Marine Unit, a lofty and prestigious position for a HM 8404. Seeing her succeed in her dreams? Jannie was proud of her friend, the young woman who had saved her life back on Elysium, the little girl who had looked up to _her_ her whole life. Jannie went through the queue of messages where Sara talked about the dig site, the Corpsman obviously excited about seeing a real-life Prothean ruin, the Cit-born touched at seeing history despite being born on a Prothean-constructed space station. She had mentioned a few names of the _Serrice_ Expeditionary Team, such as Professor T'vara, and a Turian Doctor named Antanin. Jannie had been rather intrigued by the many professions involved with Protheantology; Paleontechnology, Paleosociology, forensic research, Xenoarcheology… she had no idea. Sara was obviously giddy about it.

Wait, here it was…

 _I was talking to some of the researchers here,_ Sara had told her almost two weeks ago _, and the viewpoints and thoughts are amazing. There's this one young Asari, a Maiden, who tackles the extinction theory of the Protheans. She's a bit of a nutjob, honestly, but Doctor T'soni is actually quite nice for a weirdo…_

Bingo.

"Found it." Jannie smiled at Poppa Bear, queuing off her Omnitool. "Doctor T'soni is in the same dig site as Sara is on Therum. That's… not close." The Artemis Tau Cluster was literally at the most Rimward edge of Earth Alliance Space, practically touching the political border of Earth Alliance Space and Batarian Hegemony Space. The SSV _Normandy_ would literally have to traverse Counterspinward across Inner Council Space and almost the entirety of Earth Alliance Space to reach the Cluster. Jannie tapped the on-board communicator clipped upon her chest, designed in the symbol of the Systems Alliance, connecting her to the _Normandy's_ VI communication protocol. "VI? Connect me to Lieutenant Commander Pressley, Navigation."

" _Connecting."_ The automated electronic voice spoke in a digital female tone, as the on-board VI connected her communicator with Charles Pressley.

" _Commander?"_ The Frigate's Navigator and brand-new Executive Officer spoke up, his voice coming into Jannie's receiver, a small attachment that was set behind her left ear, meant to stimulate the fine bones of her inner ear without actually making noise.

"XO? We need a work up to our next destination. Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemis Tau Cluster." The Commanding Officer of the _Normandy_ told her XO, her communicator transmitting her words to the man who was in the Command and Information Center of the Frigate. "Give me the most direct route and soonest possible ETA. We have at least one pick-up, and it is possible the enemy may seek the same thing. I'm looking for speed, not fuel economy."

" _Understood, Commander. I'll begin the work up, assessment, travel time, possible fueling stations and discharge points, and the most time efficient route."_ The Navigator replied. _"I should have a couple of options for you to select from within twenty minutes."_ Jannie knew that a good Navigator was hard to come by. The job involved knowing space lanes, traversing systems with moving celestial bodies and gravity wells, finding refueling points for Heavy Helium and Discharge Points for static build-up, and understanding spatial physics. Thankfully, when Poppa Bear handpicked Charles Pressley for the job during the first days of _Normandy's_ test runs, he had picked one of the best. If there was a man who could shave minutes if not hours from a translation estimate, it was Lieutenant Commander Pressley.

"Alright. Let me know when you've got it done, and I'll head up to the Bridge. Shepard out." Jannie turned off her communicator as she looked to Captain Anderson. "Sure I can't kidnap you? Sara might have gotten the Jarheads to install a pool at her hellhole."

"Tempting, but my place is here, watching your back and making sure there is a proper buffer between the military command and your command." Poppa Bear replied, and Jannie knew what he meant. The System Alliance had worked hard to get a SPECTRE… but they had no real idea what to do with one now that they had achieved it. Technically, she was separate from normal military command, and even Special Operations command. What Poppa Bear would be doing was to create the groundwork on the command structure and protocols for Human SPECTREs, including herself and any future ones. Likely, it would be an Embassy position to act as a liaison, a go-to link to create a stopgap so that the Ambassador or the Admiralty Board didn't seem to be in control of a Council Asset, but also fielding missions and assignments in Humanity's interest. Honestly, there was no one else Jannie rather have than Poppa Bear, a man with decades of experience and even a one-time SPECTRE candidate himself. It was possible he'd ask another SPECTRE how their species handled it for ideas and groundwork. In his hands, Jannie trusted. "Find Doctor T'soni, and find out what she might know. Her expertise may be valuable, and at the least you will deliver a blow to his efforts by taking away a potential asset."

"Might stop in and see Sara, too." The Commander said with a wink, getting Poppa Bear to chuckle. "Part of me wants to offer her a spot on the _Normandy_. The only Corpsman we have is a Dispensary clerk, not a Doc. We need a Doc." Corporal Richard Jenkins might still be alive if they had a Doc for the shakedown run, but there hadn't been any real need for a combat-oriented Corpsman. The _Normandy_ didn't even have a compliment of Marines!

"If you choose to do so, let me know, and I'll get the ball rolling." Poppa Bear understood. Having a Doc would be good, but Sara was practically one-of-a-kind. As a former CitEMT, Sara had learned how to provide emergency care to like a dozen species, with just a shade over three years experience under her belt. Add her two years in the Systems Alliance Navy as a Corpsman and the fact that she was an FMF Corpsman now? There likely wasn't anyone in the _entirety_ of the Systems Alliance Military like Sara Ryder. Considering the _Normandy_ had Humans, Turians, Quarians, Krogan, and Salarians, Jannie would need a xenomedic. Doctor Karin Chakwas was, thankfully, a surgeon who could operate on Humans, Turians, and Asari, and likely provide some care for others, but she wasn't a ground combatant; not at her years, and certainly not risking someone of her experience as a surgeon. No, Sara would be perfect for the _Normandy_. Plus… Jannie knew that Sara would be _thrilled_ to work with her, much like Jannie had been with Poppa Bear. Shepard had to admit that she wouldn't mind having her friend with her as well.

"Should I?" Jannie asked, looking to the dark-skinned man. "I mean, she just got where she wanted to be, and as I understand it, that Dig Site and the Marine Platoon went without for like six weeks before she showed up." To take her away would mean that they would have to do without. And Poppa Bear didn't know that Sara was… well, falling in love with an Asari Matriarch, the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies from the University of Serrice. She hadn't said it, but Jannie could tell. She was a young woman falling in love for the first time, and falling pretty hard, at that. Part of her didn't want to whisk Sara away from that. Maybe this Professor T'vara could be of help considering this whole fiasco started with ProTech. Couldn't hurt to have an expert on-board. A 'ding' on her Omnitool had Jannie looking at it instinctively, and she saw a bubble icon on the side of her holographic screen with Sara's icon on it, meaning that Ryder had sent her a Chirp. "Well, speak of the devil! Sara just Chirped me." The redhead smiled as she clicked on the Haptic prompt to bring up the message.

What she saw had her heart seize in her chest.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Auntie! We're under attack! It's the Ge

"No…" Jannie felt her soul shutter as she looked up to Captain Anderson, a look of concern growing on his face as the horror of it washed over Jannie. Sara didn't even have time to finish her message? She typed quickly on her Omnitool.

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

Sara?

 **JaneShepard**

LionElysium

 _Sara_?

 _The subscriber is no longer in service. Please contact Skywire Customer Service if you feel this message is in error, available 24/7 throughout the galaxy!_

"Oh no…" This couldn't be possible! The Geth had fled the Utopia System after the attack on Eden Prime, and a weeks' worth of combat patrols by the Systems Alliance hadn't found a trace of them in Earth Alliance Space. How the hell had they gotten to the Knossus System undetected? _Again_? Poppa Bear moved to where he could see the text field, and he saw Sara's message.

"Go." Captain Anderson told her, clapping a meaty hand on her shoulder. "I'll scramble up something from the Admiralty to buy you time." He didn't need to be told what Sara meant to Jannie.

"Thanks." Jannie gave him a smile. "I got an Angel to save." Jannie didn't need a Navigator and a star chart to map that scenario; Saren had sent the Geth to collect Doctor Liara T'soni, no doubt. And there were thirty-seven Marines and a Corpsman that would give their lives to stop them. Not on her fucking watch. Jannie hit her communicator again. "VI! Ship-wide announcement, Priority One!"

" _Connecting."_

"All hands! Brace for immediate departure!" The commander spoke as she _strode_ towards the _Normandy_ , her face set and her body language purposeful. "Throw all incoming supplies into the cargo bay and sign off immediately to stow away during translation. Navigation? Find me that absolute fastest possible route to Therum. Lieutenant Moreau? The bare essentials of checklists that will have us depart five minutes ago. Everyone else! Prep for Alert One Status! Combat teams, conduct pre-combat inspection on all weapons, armor, tech, and equipment, and prepare for brief in twenty minutes in the cargo hold. That is all." She was already halfway up the gangplank heading towards the Bridge Deck of the Frigate when she tapped her communicator once more to turn it off, her mood set. Sara… Sara was in danger.

 _God, please let her be okay._

* * *

" _Translating through the Widow Relay in three minutes."_ The voice of Flight Lieutenant Jeffery 'Joker' Moreau came over the intercom as Commander Jane Shepard stood at the head of the CIC, on top of the raised platform in which three updater screens let her observe the functionality of the SSV _Normandy_ at once, giving her an idea of its current effectiveness. _"Estimated ETA to Utopia Relay is seven hours and fifty-one minutes."_ The translation time through the Mass Relay Network had a sick feeling grow into her stomach as Jane looked upon the holographic display of the galaxy map, magnifying upon the trip. Seven hours and fifty-one minutes from the Citadel to the Utopia System. A one hour and fifty-two minute burn at FTL to reach the next joining Relay from the Utopia System to the Antaeus System in the Hades Nexus Cluster, a six hour and sixteen minute translation. A two hour discharge and refuel on top of a one hour and five minute burn to the next Relay that would lead them to the Knossus System, which would take another two hours and two minutes. Then a forty-eight minute burn just to reach Therum.

Total time? Twenty-one hours and fifty-five minutes.

"Commander?" Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley spoke up from is position by the Navigation suite at the port side of the CIC, tapping away. "I can possibly shave off an hour or two depending on local conditions; solar weather, spatial anomalies, and using slingshots for gravity-assisted acceleration." Pressley was queuing up current positioning of Relays and systems maps to find ways to drop the travel time. Twenty-one hours and fifty-five minutes… "Utopia System is our best bet. Both Relays are at polar opposite ends of the system, and we can use Utopia for a burn in-system instead of traveling the circumference. FTL in-system is dangerous, but I know the system well. I can clear traffic with the use of your SPECTRE Priority Codes."

"Permission judiciously granted, and clear all traffic lanes and anything else that comes up unless otherwise directed." Jannie told her Executive Officer, smiling at the abuse of privilege. She was a Council Agent, and she was allowed, wasn't she? If the Geth were attacking Therum (or worse, the Dig Site) then she would likely be the first responder. Any minute she saved was one minute less the Geth had. And then she was going to land on them. With both feet. _Hard_. No doubt Poppa Bear would be on the horn to get reinforcements or back-up, but scrambling a response unit of Naval vessels took time; fueling, ordinance, resupply, making sure the necessary assets were in place, not to mention that they could be pulling away necessary forces that could be somewhere else. No, she would be the spear of this operation, free from restriction and having to cobble together some ragtag fleet in which seven Captains bitched about who was in charge. She looked to Pressley. "Charles? The Geth are attacking Therum _as we speak_." That had the older man's eyes go wide. He had been there for Eden Prime, coordinating elements and forces from the _Normandy_ , undoubtedly saving lives where he could. He might not be a Ground Commander, but Pressley was as dedicated to his profession as Jannie was. Poppa Bear had selected well.

"Isn't that where Sara is?" The LC wasn't an idiot. Every Human on the Stealth Frigate knew the story of the Lion and the Angel. Jane Shepard was a military hero, the Lion of Elysium, the woman who had saved thousands of teenagers from a life of slavery by dispatching over a hundred raiders by pining them down and funneling them in a school corridor. But Sara? Sara Ryder had _directly_ saved the life of Jane Shepard, skipping school and _the Citadel_ upon hearing of Elysium's attack. A thirteen year old girl had jumped station, stowed away on a military vessel, and had searched for her Auntie in wartorn Illyeria for a couple of hours before making her way to Illyeria General Hospital and finding a nearly-dead Ensign Jane Shepard on a litter, barely bandaged and left for dead due to triage. Jane had been shot four times, three of them in the chest, and once in the belly. Sara had painstakingly pulled the rounds out, given her IV's, and stitched her wounds together. Jane had fought for others. Sara… Sara had directly saved the lives of over eight dozen people left for dead, thought to be in too serious a condition to work upon. Jane had protected lives, but Sara had saved them with her bare hands. No knowledge, no experience, but no hesitation, either.

Jane owed Sara her life, simple as that.

"Yes." The tone said it all. Humanity's First SPECTRE was going to go on a warpath, and the Geth were going to find out exactly what an N7 could do in case Eden Prime wasn't enough of a lesson. She wasn't sure if a machine race _could_ feel fear, but she was certainly willing to test that theory out. "I'm going to brief the troops down in the cargo bay and prep for deployment, LC. You have the Conn, and feel free to step on as many toes as you like to get us there. Abuse the shit of that SPECTRE clearance, XO."

"Roger that." Charles looked a little smug at the thought. Alien authority might not sit well with him, but Jannie was a Human about to use said authority to go save Humans. Pressley was all for that. "How many are you bringing to ground?"

"The entire team." Damn, Jannie had hoped to find some quiet place to work together, to integrate the obviously different members together for a basis of cohesion. The Turian Detective, Garrus Vakarian, would likely be the easiest, since he was former Hierarchy, and no bullshit a member of the famed RRU, a sniper who kept miscreants from detonating bombs or executing hostages. The Quarians girls would probably know a thing or two about the Geth and have their own surprises. Wrex was just a walking tank who thrilled at tough targets, a big game hunter. Zevin Raeka didn't seem like much at first, but the female Salarian who _wasn't_ a Dalatrass toted a Kassa Fabrication M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, a _very_ heavy caliber three-shot rifle that could fold most sapients in half with the first two bursts. It was almost as nasty as what Jannie herself carried. And she didn't doubt that Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams would like a little reconnect with the Geth. "I'm going to drill them over basics and integration. I hate for the first time to be in the middle of battle, but I don't doubt we're going to need the numbers." The Geth had deployed something like a _hundred thousand_ hardware platforms onto Constant.

"I'll take care of everything up here, Commander." Charles said with a nod. "We'll get you there so you can shoot some cans. As soon as possible." That dedication was there, and Jannie had no doubt that Pressley was going to do his best to be a man of his word.

"Keep me updated." The Lion left her post as she headed towards the staircase that would lead her down to the Gun Deck, and then to the elevator that would take her to the Orlop Deck. The slow elevator did nothing for her frayed nerves or her patience.

 _Twenty-one hours, fifty-five minutes_.

"Hold on, kiddo." Jannie said to no one in particular, her heart heavy with the thought of the Geth on Therum, and a memory of holding a brand-new infant girl in her nine-year old arms, blue eyes looking into her green ones. "Calvary's coming."

* * *

" _Commander? Translation to Knossus System successful."_ Came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley over the 1MC intercom of the SSV _Normandy_ as Commander Jane Shepard worked on Bastila, her personal security drone. Bastila was an effort of years of tinkering, upgrades, improved VI systems, and a whole host of toys to play havoc upon the enemy. What started off as a contragravity security turret grew into a weapon in its own right, capable of firing OmniGel-manufactured mini-rockets, a coaxial light machine gun, providing electronic protection while hosting a wide variety of programs to intrude into enemy systems and routines. She hadn't invented the concept until after Elysium, to basically have a host turret that was part-tank and part-electronic warfare suite. It had a host of high-grade processing chips, external OmniGel containers for Omnirockets and machine gun ammunition, MetalGel and CeramiGel containers for self-repair, and several running programs to protect itself and Jannie from intrusion software. She had also integrated several viruses and systems protocols for disabling higher systems functions in enemy capabilities.

And of course there was Ghost, her polygon-shaped hand-crafted electronic intrusion and cyberwarfare drone.

Jannie checked her Kassa Fabrication Polaris OmniTool and noted that the SSV _Normandy_ practically broke a galactic speed record reaching the Artemis Tau Cluster, reaching the Knossus System in nineteen hours and twenty-one minutes. Flight Lieutenant Moreau had performed a solar slingshot with Utopia to damn near double their maximum speed through the system after Pressley 'cleared' a path using Jannie's brand-new SPECTRE clearance. The _Normandy_ became first in line for every Relay, bumping itself to the front of every list instead of waiting for transportation, civilian, and even military traffic. Priority was always military, but a lone military Frigate with the Systems Alliance might find itself behind a fleet movement, a Reconnaissance Flotilla, or even just a combat patrol, depending on the situation or sector. For the past nineteen hours, the _Normandy_ had top-tier access and privilege. Jannie had never been one to abuse her rank or her SpecOps clearance, but she had to admit it was nice when it mattered. And it certainly mattered now.

"Damn fine work, Pressley." The Commander told her XO via a nearby communicator, connecting it with the bridge as she worked at the workbench in the cargo bay of the _Normandy_. "Open all frequencies for distress beacons, emergency beacons, and any other distress signals. We need intelligence, and even crappy intelligence paints a picture, XO. Numbers is priority since we have an idea of location, but anything else describing composition will do."

" _Understood, Commander."_ The wall unit replied. _"Joker states that we should arrive in thirty-seven minutes thanks to lack of traffic."_ That was eleven minutes faster than the original projected time.

"Give Joker my compliments." Jannie 'hung' up on the call, and then put her thumb on the biometric scanner to authorize the use of the 1MC. "Ground Team? Get into RedConTwo status and meet me in the cargo bay for final pre-combat checks. We deploy in thirty plus." She shut off the call as the redhead went to Bastila and closed the access panel on the rear of the hover turret, sealing it close as she went to her equipment locker, opening it up to reveal her heavily-modified Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Battle Armor that she had customized to look like… well, the MJOLNIR Armor from the _Halo_ Series to look just like Master Chief John-117's. Add the fact that she had installed several systems and modifications in the pricey armor to make herself an even bigger threat on the battlefield. She had the servos and actuators customized for enhanced speed and reflexes while completely overhauling the helmet for a sophisticated Augmented Reality Overlay HUD that provided state-of-the-art details, as well as several different vision modes. Her armor also had several high-speed processors to line with her Omnitool for faster computing and to handle multiple processes at the same time without lagging or interrupting, and a suite of different combat profiles to enhance the effectiveness of her kinetic shielding and power consumption. While Jannie worked herself hard physically to become a better combatant, she also worked hard to make sure that her weapons, armor, equipment, and toys were equally just as much a threat.

Jannie suited up, taking off her Alliance Blues to reveal the combat undersuit, which was a ballistic weave meant to protect against small caliber rounds. Folding her uniform, she began armoring up in her Predator Battle Armor, putting on the curiess and greaves before donning on the chestpiece, vambraces and bracers, and finally placing her helmet on top of her locker. She saw her weapons at the ready as she selected her favorite rifle, the Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle and magnetically locked it to her chest, and then added the AOFI M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol to her left thigh. Her final selection was the SOCOM N-7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, locked just forward of her left hip. Satisfied, she donned her helmet as she saw the others of her ground team prepping themselves as well.

"Cortana?" Jannie spoke up, activating her armor's personal VI suite. "Initiate start-up sequence, run performance check, and handshake with selected weapons systems." The boot-up sequence was already cycling up as the helmet's ARO activated, displaying a progression bar as her field-of-view began to populate with information at the corners of her vision, keeping the center free of distractions. IFF tags were included for friendly forces, outlining them in blue as Jannie swept over Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams and Detective Garrus Vakarian to make sure that both Human and Turian were marked friendly. The weapons handshake was complete as her Saber was encoded to her armors' system, preventing it from being hacked or jammed while being able to activate a variety of weapons sub-systems vocally instead of manually. The performance check was completed, and everything was in the green. "Bastila, attach." The hover turret activated and moved to attach to Jannie's backpiece, sealing magnetically for transportation and deployment. "Ghost? To me." The polygon drone darted from its inductive charging station in her locker as it hovered over her left shoulder, linking with Cortana, as did Bastila. Everything was running at a hundred percent. With a smile, Jannie closed her locker and looked over to her troops.

"Damn, I wish my armor looked like Master Chief's." Sergeant Williams told 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, the Combat Engineer chuckling out loud.

"I'm just happy she doesn't look like Boba Fett." Alenko told the Soldier, who gaped at him for a moment.

"That would be so fucking _awesome_! Or War Machine! Have a tracking machine gun on your shoulder." The Colonial Army Staff Sergeant replied with a smile as she donned her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Combat Armor, grabbing her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun and locking it to her chestpiece before grabbing a Elanus Risk Control Services' M-3 Predator and locking it on her right hip, and then a ERCS M-9 Tempest Submachine Gun, putting it on her left hip. Next came her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun, placed over her left shoulder before grabbing her Devlon Industries' M-92 Mantis Sniper Platform and locking it over her right. The last thing she grabbed was her Heckler and Koch M320 Variable Munitions Launcher, locking it on her left hip.

"Hate to tell you, Sergeant, but I already _have_ a machine gun that tracks over my shoulder." Jannie thumbed at Bastila locked on her back. "Besides, I so see you in Captain America armor. Perhaps even the shield." Captain Steve Rogers was an Army Soldier, and no doubt the Colonial Army Soldier would go giddy with the thought. "We got a paint fabrication suite on the workbench if you're interested after mission." The look on Williams' face was almost that of pure joy. Someone was going to be enjoying themselves later and getting rid of that ugly olive drab green color off her Titan Combat Armor. At the least Kaidan had re-spec'ed the colors of his Aldrin Labs' Onyx Heavy Armor (Bomb Disposal Variant), adding the scarlet and gold to his pauldrons to identify his rate.

"Alright, listen up!" The Commander spoke up to her seven ground team members, all of them having already dressed and armed themselves for combat. "Our mission is simple; a capture/rescue in a hostile environment. Our main priority… is Doctor Liara T'soni." God Jannie wished she could say otherwise. "As she is the daughter of Lady Benezia T'soni, a confederate of rogue Council Agent Saren Arterius, it is the likely conclusion that the Geth have deployed and assaulted Dig Site Alpha to retrieve Doctor T'soni, with or without her permission. Whatever the case may be, she is _not_ to leave the planet in the care of the Geth or whatever forces that Saren commands. If we cannot obtain her, she is not to be handed over to him alive. Will that be an issue?"

"No." Detective Garrus Vakarian spoke up, already shouldering his Armax Arsenals' M-98 Widow Heavy Sniper Rifle. "If her knowledge leads him to objectives that will endanger others, then the life of one is a small price to pay no matter how regrettable." That actually surprised Jannie a little bit; she actually figured the Turian C-SEC Detective to be about law and order. He evidently saw things in a different light. Likewise, Agent Zevin Raeka was nodding her head in agreement, armed with her Kassa Fabrication M-55 Argus Battle Rifle. Jannie hadn't missed the sight of an Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle peeking over the Salarian females' back, either. The Salarian didn't strike Jannie as just a simple combatant, not with what the rumors of what Salarian STG was capable of. It didn't look like either the Turian or the Salarian would have issues pulling the trigger if necessary.

"Our secondary objective is the location of a Naval Corpsman by the name of Petty Officer Sara Ryder." Lieutenant Alenko shifted slightly at that. "Chief Ryder is the Angel of Illyeria, as well as a trained combatant and xenomedic from the CitEMS. We lack a combat medic, and with this many species available, she is likely the only one in the entirety of the Systems Alliance Military with the knowledge, training, and experience to deal with wounds and casualties amongst those in Citadel Space." Williams was nodding at that, likely comparing Jannie's relationship with Sara with her own younger sisters. Sometimes things got personal, and Ashley understood that the Lion was making it so for the good of the mission. "Finding an alternative would likely mean someone from CitEMS with prior combat experience, be it a former Hospitaller, a Frontline Barber-Surgeon, or Trauma Care Specialist who wishes to leave the Emergency Medical Services to join a Human vessel on the hunt for a disavowed SPECTRE. I'm not exactly holding my breath on that. We find the Angel, and I will offer her a spot on this vessel and this mission. I've already lost one man to the Geth, and the Staff Sergeant here," the Commander indicated Williams, "lost her entire Battalion. The Geth don't fuck around, and we're going to need a balls-to-the-wall Doc. Chief Ryder fits that bill crystal clear.

"Our last objective," Jannie continued, "will be the location of a Prothean scientist by the name of Professor Irissa T'vara." That had everyone looking at her. No one had ever heard of her. "Professor T'vara is the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies from the University of Serrice, and the Lead of Dig Site Alpha. She is likely the foremost expert in all things Prothean in the galaxy, and commands the respect of the community. This started with a Prothean Beacon, and a second attack involves a Prothean Site, or just a Protheantologist. Saren's objective obviously involves something dealing with the Protheans, and we need the intelligence. Locate and obtain Professor T'vara with the intent of bring her aboard temporarily. Any questions?"

" _What kind of friendly forces will we be looking at?_ " That was the Pilgrim Niki'Raan nar Tombay, the young Quarian female who wished to be a Migrant Fleet Marine. Jannie noticed that her combat rifle was of unusual make and design, obviously Quarian in nature. In fact, both Quarians were armed with non-standard weapons. Likely, they were designed with killing Geth in mind. It was one of the reasons Jannie agreed to have them on-board.

"Good question, Specialist Raan." Jannie nodded, complimenting the taller Quarian in an EnviroSuit that was a blue-and white motif as oppose to the purple of her cousin, Tali'Zorah nar Reyya. "There are thirty-seven Alliance Marines deployed as site security at Dig Site Alpha, with defensive positions and anti-ship weaponry. If the one hundred and nine civilians of the Expedition haven't been evacuated due to conditions, I understand there to be a dozen Turian Reservists being lead by a former _Centurion_ of one of the _Hasti_ Units who is well aware that he is to protect the civilians and evacuate them when it is safe to do so. Otherwise any other forces will come from out-of-system, and likely will face against whatever space forces the Geth have deployed above Therum. We very well may be on our own, and should prepare for that fact. Which is why we'll be deploying in our M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle." Jannie nodded to the multi-wheeled vehicle sitting behind the group. "The Geth dumped a hundred thousand on Constant, Eden Prime. They are very effective out in the open. I don't doubt that we may be seeing over a thousand or so hardware platforms on the ground or in the vicinity of the dig site, so I am to have as many advantages as possible. Bring out the best shit and the best hits."

"My kind of party." Urdnot Wrex spoke with a toothsome smile as he hefted his Graal Hunting Shotgun, a slug-throwing shotgun that was meant to pierce Thresher Maw hide, supposedly. Jannie actually couldn't wait to see what it would do to a Geth Trooper.

"Alright, folks, we're at RedConTwo! Load up on your pre-designated packages and builds and get ready to fuck something up!" The Lion commanded, getting a hearty ' _hooah!_ ' from Staff Sergeant Williams. "Williams? You're driving."

"Awesome."

* * *

"Commander, can I have a word with you?"

Commander Jane Shepard was standing near the deployment door of the M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle when 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko got her attention. They were approximately ten minutes from reaching Therum, and the SSV _Normandy's_ scanners and LADAR had picked up at least six Cruiser-Class vessels that weren't of Human make or design, and one that appeared to be a Destroyer-Class, possibly a hardware platform transport, if it was Geth in origin. God only knew how many platforms the Geth could cram into a vessel.

"What's shaking, LT?" Jannie was observing her Omnitool, linked with the ships' VI for updates on position, intelligence, and the hopes that Sara might Chirp her. The first strike had undoubtedly been the systems' GalacticNet Comms Buoy, and without the li-fi connectivity, Jannie knew it was a dismal chance that her best friend would be able to communicate with her. Still, if she didn't do that, she'd be pacing a trench in the cargo bay's deck.

"Commander, I have a concern about the mission." The Combat Engineer replied, looking a little nervous. Back on Eden Prime, Lieutenant Alenko had really shined, being an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Member, as well as a rated Electronics Officer. He was a small-scale hacktivist who could break through security and reprogram systems, be it doors or bombs. It was obvious why Poppa Bear included him on the _Normandy's_ roster. He also happened to be a Biotic as well, trained at defensive tactics, providing Barriers and Shields for members of the team.

"Is it with our extra team members?" Jannie figured that would be a problem. Most everyone on the _Normandy_ was either Earth-born or Colony-born, and had little interaction with aliens. Only two came from colonies that hosted larger alien populations, and even then that didn't exactly guarantee cooperation. The N7 remembered well the unease that everyone had when Agent Nihlus Kryik had been on-board, and it hadn't necessarily been because he was a Council SPECTRE. Staff Sergeant Williams hadn't said a word, but the dark looks she gave the aliens, especially Detective Vakarian, was telling. She was far from the only one.

"No, Commander. That I get." _Okay_. "It's with one of our objectives." Okay, Jannie thought she figured it out. The Lieutenant probably wasn't too keen at the thought of the possible kill order of a civilian. Being an N-Operative meant that one understood that war was cruel, dirty, unfair, and usually meant the wrong people were going to die regardless of circumstances and efforts. It was one of the reasons why SOCOM made _Villa Militar_ so excruciatingly tough, throwing scenarios just like this one at the recruits to help them understand that sometimes one needed to get their hands dirty for the benefit of many, if not all. Some of those missions were staged, to create a psychological scenario that seemed very real to the recruit, to put them in a situation where they had to choose comrade over mission or vice versa, or to kill the enemy at the cost of an innocent life, or to rescue the innocent at the knowledge that the enemy would go free. There weren't wrong choices, only wrong reasons. And the worst thing to do was to hesitate, to not make a decision, to not being able to justify while one thought a particular choice was right _at that time_. The N1 course was merely physical, and though it had the highest washout rate, it was also the easiest due to the fact that the obstacles were physical, and made sense. Psychological scenarios involving Catch-22's that put an Operative in a bad situation that they had to solve knowing that someone would pay the price? Many didn't make it for that reason.

"Is it the kill order?"

"No, ma'am. That I get." Kaidan replied, though the redhead could tell that it did bother him. "It's not an easy call, but I understand it's a necessary call. No, it's the second objective."

He meant _Sara_.

"I'm listening." Jannie had to blank her face and her emotions, to have the _Commander_ sit there and listen, not Jane Shepard. She was a leader, and she couldn't let her emotions interfere. Perhaps Lieutenant Alenko deduced some positive insight she might have missed.

"I understand that Chief Ryder is like family to you," Alenko began, "but will including her onto this mission be for the best? If she gets into a situation that puts her into danger, could it throw _you_ off? You've already pushed the ship and crew towards extremes to reach Therum as quickly as possible for her. I just want to make sure that we are remaining objective about the situation."

The N7 took a very deep breath and tried not to smash the face in front of her with her fist as hard as humanly possible. It was really trying.

"So that I'm understanding correctly," Jane began, her tone made out of iridium as she held onto the rage that was quickly building inside of her, keeping it in check. "You think going into battle with an objective for a teammate that would provide us great benefit is somehow… too nepotist because the very same person _saved_ the life of your Commanding Officer? Is that what I am understanding, Lieutenant?" Alenko's face paled as Jannie stared at him, her temper almost breaking loose. "The Geth are attacking a Human settlement, and you question me pushing my vessel to the extreme for the thirty-eight Marines and one-hundred and nine civilians at the site? Our enemy could very well almost have they very thing he needs or wants, and you think I am playing favorites? Do I have this right?"

"I…"

"That was rhetorical." Jannie took a big step forward, the rage palatable as Alenko took a step back, recoiling away from her wrath. "Chief Ryder _chose_ to be a Fleet Marine Corpsman, busted her ass for the honor. She's saved more lives than I have, and we need someone just like her here to look out for us all. Or have you forgotten what happened to Corporal Richard Jenkins?" Jenkins had died fighting for his home, the sight of Constant on fire making him rash and impulsive. Had Sara been there, Jannie didn't doubt the Corpsman would have saved the Marine. When writing a condolence letter to his parents, the N7 learned to her shock that both of Richards' parents had died during the attack, the entirety of the family lost. That had been a crushing revelation that Jannie had to deal with. All Richard wanted was to fight for and save his home, something that Jannie could understand. Unfortunately, he had rushed ahead before Jannie could recon the area properly and had been attacked by multiple Geth Recon Drones, cutting him down quickly while Jannie paid attention to her sector of fire, engaging the enemy. If Sara had been there (or any other Marine Corpsman), they would have held Corporal Jenkins back, or been able to treat his wounds before he bled out, at least given the young Marine a chance. No, never again. Her team needed a Doc, and there was no doubt in Jannie's mind that Sara was one of the best. Five years experience in the medical field at the tender age of twenty, and then put Elysium on top of that? Sara Ryder was likely the most famous Human paramedic in the _galaxy_.

"You say when she puts herself in a situation that will have her in danger, but have you forgotten what a Marine Corpsman does?" The Commander continued, her voice hard enough to crack diamonds. "When she does, it will be because one of _us_ will be in a situation that will be dangerous, and she will likely throw herself selflessly to save us, facing the odds and bringing us back. Or would you rather I had Able Seaman Linda Basheer suit up and come with us?" Basheer was the _Normandy's_ HM8404, and a Pharmacist's Mate, the traditional Dispensary worker. Jannie had thought to bring it up to the _Normandy's_ Corpsman until she got a good look at the young woman and realize that she was a little too pudgy and frumpy. She would likely be the first casualty. "Chief Ryder is a Marine Medic, a Surgeon's Mate, a xenomedic, and no slouch when it comes to firearms. She'll fit in perfectly."

"Aye aye, ma'am." The Lieutenant replied, likely saying anything to avoid anything further.

"Now load up in the APV, Lieutenant. _Now._ " The anger was still there, and Jannie did her best to let it simmer down before she snapped at someone who didn't deserve it. Her mother always said she had inherited her fathers' fiery temper.

"Done ripping into some ass, Skipper?"

Jannie turned to see Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams off to the right, holding out her hands in a peaceful manner to indicate _I'm not here to start a fight_. Her anger was still there, still seething on the inside.

"Handled it better than I would have." The Sergeant said, pulling out of one of her hardcase pouches a small cigar, lighting it with a small lighter app on her Omnitool, letting off a cloud of pleasant-smelling smoke. "Dealt with that back on Eden Prime during the initial attack, boys and girls worried about their families and homes in Constant while the Geth were dropping on us like the plague. It's a hard thing to tell a man to not think about his wife and kids when you see your home on fire." Williams wasn't just the sole survivor of her Platoon, the 2nd Battalion 12th Infantry Regiment, but of the entirety of the Colonial Army in and around Constant. Even after a week, there hadn't been one remaining member of the military for the 2-12, the 2-22, or the 2-32. Ash… was still dealing with it. "I wish I knew then what I know now. Wish I had let them run home to spend their last moments with their families, given them a chance to evacuate them." Williams' face was made of stone, but behind that wall was grief, flaring behind brown eyes. "I've always heard that the Villa didn't accept anyone who hadn't lost a man or woman in combat. Now I think I know why."

"While not exactly true, it's heavily sought." Jannie sighed, the anger slowly fading. "Did you pick up the packages and builds I suggested?"

"Hells yes, Skipper! Modular combat systems for different fights?" The Soldier was all smiles. "Let's someone be better equipped for an unknown fight ahead without having to worry if the weapon selection or armor selection was appropriate enough? That's a stroke of genius! I ended up going with the Heat Dispersion Package for more firing time and an Hot Swap Ammo Mod Build for different nasties. You N's sure know what's what."

"Actually, Sara came up with the concept. Seriously." Williams looked shocked at that. "Back when she was an EMT with the CitEMS, jumping off of Skybulances to pull splinters from Matriarch's toes back on the Rings, she had these med-paks that she could attach to her paramedic bag, species-specific instruments and medications instead of carrying everything at once or having to run back to grab something. Within a few weeks, all of her Skybulance crew had the same things, snapping on something based upon whatever call they had received. When I saw it and asked about it, little fifteen year old Sara was giddy explaining it to me, showing me an Asari one, clipping it on and off, saying how an Asari call would get two attachments instead of swapping out an entire bag or having to do without."

"And you adapted the idea for war." The Soldier nodded, getting it. "Yeah, makes sense." Williams looked down to the Packages in question that were mag-locked to her front of her thighs for easy access, giving her options in case of changing circumstances. "Can't prepare for everything, but you can certainly try preparing for _most_ everything."

"There's about a dozen or so packages and about thirty or so builds oriented to people, weapons loadouts, preferences, and toys." Jannie filled in, tapping her own; one being a multicore VI processor for better processing speeds for her Omnitool, Cortana, and Ghost, and another being a more-refined targeting system to correct minute-of-angle deviations to effect for better accuracy towards known weaknesses in armor and species. "I prefer my Tech candy, of course."

"Yeah, well I saw that hover _minitank_ of yours just annihilating Geth on Eden Prime, so I'm not complaining." There was a broad smirk on Ashley's face for a moment before it went serious. "Skipper? We're going to find her. Probably on top of a full recycling bin."

"I hope so." Shepard looked to Sara's last message, still unfinished. "God, please make it so." _Auntie, I just wanted you to be proud of me_ , Sara had said back on Elysium when Jannie had woken up, utterly shocked to see the thirteen year old girl in Illyeria. When she had learned of all Sara had did… God, there wasn't an word invented for what she felt for Sara Ryder. Years of flashbacks swept her vision as Jannie remembered those blue eyes, that easy smile, her effervescent personality and unquenchable spirit. The thought of seeing that cherubic face lifeless was worse than dying.

"Please let Sara be alive."

* * *

Author's Note: Jane Shepard is a Tech Warrior; she fights with guns and toys. Most of her arsenal lies with Bastila and Ghost. She also carries a M-99 Saber.

Jane is also a complete nerd with all the saves. So she's a bit of a CosPlayer, and has altered her Armor to look like a Spartans' MJOLNIR Armor. Because… wouldn't you?

Bastila (Contragravity Auto-Turret) - 'Bastila', named after a Star Wars character, is a weapons platform that fires OmniGel-shaped Rockets, a light coaxial machine gun, sensor suite, targeting system, laser identification system, multi-passive viewing systems, deployable defensive shields, has armor rated to bounce most medium-weight small arms, and a passive li-fi linkup with Jannie's high-tech armor. It also boasts incredibly dense firewalls that can protect a nearby squadmate from hacking, intrusion software, or electronic sabotage. Bastila is the muscle of Shepard's repertoire. (based off the Assault Turrets from ME3MP, MEA, and MEAMP)

Ghost (Contragravity Drone) - 'Ghost', named after a Destiny character, is a personalized drone. It provides navigation, topographical information, environmental updates, accesses computer systems, cracks firewalls, lights darkened areas, remote hacks enemy systems, provides a temporary Faraday Cage, 'hazes' friendly electronic signals, can provide limited camouflage, and provide medical analysis (friendly and enemy). It can also perform minor repairs on itself, other drones, and on personnel armor. It is made out of a durable synthmetal, is shaped in a polygon, and can use its abilities to cause harm (such as overload, sabotage, hacking, invasion, energy drain, and tech corruption). Ghost is the hidden muscle, decimating enemy troops without firing a shot. (Based off of Ghost off of Destiny, but with the full range of 'Engineer Class' talents.)

Cortana (Armor VI OS) - 'Cortana', named after a Halo character, is an advanced VI personal assistant/software management suite. It compiles sensory data for optimal battlefield performance to maximize Shepard's performance, adding power to certain systems in times of need for better reflexes, better speed, or better protection. It also encodes and hardlocks weapons systems to prevent hacking, sabotage, or scanning. (Software Management Program, as well as adding 'Soldier Class' talents.)

Yes, Bastila is named after Bastila Shan, of Knights of the Old Republic, who was also voiced by Jennifer Hale, FemShep's voice actor.

Ghost is the Drone from Destiny, minus it being an AI. It is instead an advanced VI handmade (and hand-programmed) by Shepard.

Cortana is simply the name of the VI of Jannie's armor. This isn't a Halo crossover, just Jannie geeking out. Yes, it does come with a holographic blue woman in her field of vision.

Packages and Builds - I'm using the ME3MP and MEAMP packages and builds as a part of this universe, making them modular attachments to armor to provide whatever specs they incorporate; extra grenades, multicore VI processors, and the like. While this story isn't canon (obviously) I am going to use as much of the weaponry, armor, mods, and upgrades from all the games plus the multiplayers. The Geth will have abilities from ME3MP, since I don't exactly remembering them having too many powers (save the Hunter's Tactical Cloak and the Juggernaut's ME1 Tech Armor). They won't have the 'science' tech abilities (incinerate, cold thingie, or overload) but they will most certainly have sabotage, overheat, hacking, invasion, drones, and other swear word-worthy powers, along with DigiCloak, Fortification, Shield Boost, and other combat abilities. Plus… something out of the Borg's Handbook _How To Take Over The Galaxy_ ; adaptability.

Corporal Richard 'Leroy' Jenkins and the Price of War - I mention how Jenkins' died, as well as his parents considering they're from Eden Prime and Eden Prime was attacked. I also mention that Commander Shepard was _firing_ at the enemy as oppose to _rescuing a comrade_. This is absolutely correct. I use to teach my guys this painful lesson that, if we are being engaged and one is hit, I will continue engaging the enemy until they are dead/incapacitated/captured/surrendered/fleeing, and you might possibly bleed out unless you provide self-aid. This isn't cruel. Wounding one and having another take care of the wounded takes away _two_ guns, and might change the tide of battle. I told them that it implied to me as well; if I got shot, kill the motherfuckers responsible, then go check on me if I can't do it myself. And yes, I most definitely was a man of my word on that one.


	7. Fall Of The House Of Therum, II

_BioWare; Straight Outta Canada!_

 **10 Kilometers From Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 15, 2183**

Author's Note: Happy Easter! Happy April Fool's Day (not partaking in it)! And... a brand new chapter for you to enjoy!

About the same time James Cameron was making Terminator 2, the Quarians were living it. Evidently Jon'Konor vas Rannoch didn't exist for them.

* * *

" _Successful landing!_ " Called out Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams over the General Dynamics' M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicles' intercom system as the Soldier operated the vehicles' operation suite, handling the driving. _"Boy, they sure didn't skimp out on the brochures. We're looking at a lava lake and a volcanic glass plain in front of the MAKO. Can I retire here, Skipper?"_

"Funny, Army." Commander Jane Catherine Shepard spouted out over the SquadCom, looking out at the holographic band that displayed a three hundred and sixty degree plane of the area surrounding the MAKO. She was currently in the gunners' suite of the MAKO, looking at the surroundings and formulating a route through the hazardous conditions of Therum. Jesus, Sara hadn't been kidding about the place. "Williams, I'm sending navpoints based upon the hazards that will lead us to the Dig Site. Be advised, I have no idea how stable the ground it, so take it with a grain of salt."

" _Copy. Moving forward."_ The APV lumbered forward slowly as the six-wheeled vehicle began to push forward upon the basalt surface of Therum, and Shepard saw on the gunner display band that the temperature was soaring towards sixty degrees Celsius, or about a hundred and forty degrees Fahrenheit. Jannie clicked her tongue off the roof of her mouth at the sight of that. Sara had mentioned how hot it was on Therum, but at that temperature? An hour or two of external environment time, tops. Thankfully, Jannie knew of the conditions and had everyone stock up on extra Power Cells for their separate life support systems so their armors wouldn't be drained of their power supplies. They had about six hours worth of environmental time just in case, with the MAKO able to recharge their Power Cells as necessary.

Both Staff Sergeant Williams and Detective Garrus Vakarian had gone through the supplies on-board the MAKO while back on the SSV _Normandy_ , to include rations for both levo- and dextro-chilarities, potable water, extra grenades, extra ammo blocks, extra containers of Gels, and a few spare weapons in case of different scenarios. Jannie had done an inspection of the vehicle loadout prior to deployment, and had been quite satisfied with what she saw. Most Marines and Naval Security Forces thought to bring everything but the kitchen sink for deployments, but usually just clogged and littered supply spots with unnecessary equipment. There was a certain elegance to the loadout, where grenades were stashed in hardcase packs attached to the interior of the MAKO instead of in the 'bread boxes' meant for miscellaneous equipment, while ammo blocks were kept under the deployment seats; everything within hands' reach without searching. Jannie wasn't sure if it was the Soldier or the RRU Sniper who had done that, but the interior of the MAKO was set up in a pattern that made sense.

"Scanning environment and topography for best possible route." Jannie called out as she operated the gunners' suite of the MAKO, using the display to mark waypoints for Williams to orient towards while keeping an eye out for any hostile obstacles or enemies. Therum wasn't the worst terrain she had ever had to navigate, but it was a close second. There were active calderas, lava pools, and cracks upon the surface that could be sinkholes or lavatubes near the surface. Why the fuck did the Protheans settle this shithole was beyond her. "Williams? Got a magma flow, starboard side, along the 30 degree azimuth. Try not to take us skinny-dipping."

" _Port, starboard… Skipper, you do realize we're on_ land _, right? We can lose the astronautical terms."_ The humor in the Soldiers' voice was thick, and Jannie couldn't help but smile. Ash had a sense of humor, and considering what had happened on Eden Prime, it was good to hear it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll speak _Army_ then." The redhead replied as her eyes continued to scan the display, her right hand manipulating the Haptic controls for the various views and magnifications that would let her manipulate the display to either enhance, broaden, or narrow the view as needed, marking waypoints and projecting possible hazards to Williams' driver display. Her left hand controlled the main cannon and coaxial machine gun, ready to engage at a moment's notice. "Duuuh, lookie over there! Puuurrrty!"

" _I'm Army, not a Marine. Give me some credit, Skipper. I can count past ten."_ That had the Commander chuckle as she plugged in another waypoint as Williams continued to drive over the path Jannie was highlighting, the effort of it rather involving. Most of the path was barely wider than the MAKO itself, and she hadn't found a safer route yet. _"Think we're going to have the jump the next little part. Ground looks dicey."_

"Proceed." Yeah, she could see why the Staff Sergeant thought so; the edges looked weak. The MAKO's contragravity thrusters activated as its Mass Core went negative, lightening the APV's mass to give it more thrust as Williams jumped the traversable path she didn't like, landing some twelve meters ahead in a much safer patch. "Nicely done. Nine for the landing."

" _Oh, you're a better driver? I'll have you know that driving is an_ Army _skill, space trucker."_ Jannie just chuckled at that as she continued scanning the holographic display, her hands manipulating through the different fields of view, looking for potential ambush sites and defensive locations for the Geth or whomever else might want to make their lives difficult. Despite the quips and camaraderie, her attention was on their surroundings, and Jannie wasn't about to let the Geth catch her unaware. That happened already on Eden Prime, and Jannie was sure as shit not going to give them the satisfaction again. She had already lost one Marine, and Ash her entire Battalion.

She only prayed that the Marines of Red Platoon were seeing better success, and that Sara was still alive.

Please God, let it be so.

* * *

The M35 MAKO had been driving over the tortured landscape of Therum, jagged basalt rock and razor-sharp obsidian jutting from the hellish landscape as open lavapits and melting rocks shifted the landscape for the past twenty minutes when Commander Jane Shepard noticed the defensive fortifications of what she assumed to be Dig Site Alpha. They were running on radio silent with the SSV _Normandy_ , as was normal for most military operations, as well as to prevent either from the Geth detecting their signal or possibly hacking their way into any of the sub-systems of either the MAKO or their armor. It was a good thing that Humanity, paranoid about alien snooping and hacking, had secondary manual monitoring devices and hardline communications inside the Armored Personnel Vehicle. When they deployed on the ground, communications would be by armor vocalizer for much of the same reasons. Jannie had marked the tentative location of Dig Site Alpha on the topographical map of Therum, not wishing to alert the Geth of their presence by getting any kind of updates. She knew of the general vicinity of the Prothean Site from Sara, and Jannie had taken a few SpecOps training courses oriented towards finding remote locations with as little hard information as possible.

"Williams? See the towers up ahead?"

" _Looks like a pretty typical Alliance Military defensive position to me."_ Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams said from the drivers' seat, her voice coming through over the vehicles' intercom. _"Haven't seen any toasters. Either they're destroyed, or all in the dig site."_

"Terrain makes it impossible to tell." The Dig Site itself sat in a bowl surrounded by jagged walls made of basalt, making the defensive position that much better. Jannie could easily see what was a standard Colonial Anti-Ship Defensive Battery, a GARDIAN Artillery Cannon meant to repel invaders and airdrops. The cannon in question wasn't aiming at the Therum sky, though. "Cannon's oriented towards the deck. I doubt that's the standard. All hands? Brace for combat maneuvering and impacts." The N7 called out over the entirety of the vehicle to alert everyone of the possibility of attack. Getting jostled around in an APV wasn't the most wonderful thing in the world, but it was better than being shot at physically. "Williams? Spider senses are tingling."

" _Me too, Skipper."_ The Soldier relayed, her tone indicating it all; Williams was obviously reliving the emotional roller coaster that was Eden Prime. As much as that could be a liability, the Staff Sergeant was one of a handful of veterans against the Geth, and the woman herself had no compunctions against a round two against the synthetic race. Jannie would make sure that the Soldier kept her head in the game, like she should have done for Corporal Richard Jenkins. She wasn't about to write a letter to Kimberly Williams and her three remaining daughters about the death of her oldest child. _"Staying frosty, and prepare for me to run it and gun it at the first sight of something wrong."_

"Acknowledged." Jane's tone was pure professionalism, humor dropped to put every gram of her training and experience into use, her mind focused completely on the task at hand. Geth could be the perfect ambushers, needing no food, water, rest, or environmental protection like an organic. With their Collective Network, just one hardware platform spotting them might mean the entirety of their forces would know they were there automatically. Shepard had certainly found out how adaptable the Geth could be on Eden Prime, finding units becoming increasingly more difficult to face as the mission progressed due to that fact. The N7 had found herself having to exhaust a good many tactics and improvising on the wing against increasingly more difficult defensive positions, better firing tactics, and units reacting better and better to them as she, Sergeant Williams, and Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko encountered them. The Geth literally represented fluidity in combat and progressive combat tactics. No wonder the 2nd Battalion (Eden Prime) had been completely eradicated. "The Marine Barracks should be half-a-klick ahead of us, Sergeant. Take your time getting there as I scan and identify. Hopefully, the boys got a barbecue going and we can joke about this."

" _Aye aye."_ Ash didn't sound like she believed Jannie. Jannie didn't believe herself either as she continued to scan with near anal-retentiveness, knowing that a mistake against the Geth would likely be a fatal one multiplied by eight. The MAKO crept slowly up an embankment that lead towards the waypoint that the Lion had populated for the potential sight of the Marine Corps barracks stationed on Therum, knowing that if any of the Marines were manning the GARDIAN Towers, they would have alerted the Marine TOC of potential visitors while keeping an eye of them in case they weren't what they appeared to be. The Comms Unit connected to the SAEncryptNet was reporting silence, and no challenge was given by the any member of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, 3/7 MAR. That did not bode well at all. Jannie didn't key up the radio to try and contact the Marines for the same reason she wasn't trying to contact the _Normandy_ ; to keep the element of surprise as long as possible. It wasn't like the MAKO was invisible, after all, and anyone in the Tower would see them approach and try to contact them, at the very least ordering them to stop and identify themselves.

So far, nothing.

" _Captain? I'm getting signal intercept!"_ That came from Specialist Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, who was running a passive signal scanner from inside the MAKO, trying to provide as much coverage as possible, attempting to get as much of an early warning detection system as they could afford. _"Frequency scramble, high-gain static in the gigaHertz range, and multiple band signal strength._ Not _organic in nature; too complex, and not a radio signal."_

"Ideas?"

" _Either we are close enough to pick up data transfer, or we've been spotted, Captain."_ The Quarian dataware engineer replied from the belly of the APV. _"Migrant Fleet Forces only pick up spikes of data transfer during mass download conjunction and connectivity, usually systems updates and adaptability swaps. This is likely a general alert, broadcasting our presence. The signal is too simple for a transmission of combat information systems."_

"Understood." Jannie concluded that it was likely what the Quarians Pilgrim was telling her; the Geth had spotted the MAKO, but likely didn't know what to make of it, be it civilian or military. That meant that the Marines were likely in the Dig Site, entrenched and resisting, or they were dead. "Williams? Continue as is. Play the cards close to the chest for as long as possible, and let's get close enough to see the white in their flashlights."

" _Now we're talking."_ The Non-Com replied, continuing at the same slow speed, navigating as if they weren't in a rush, and also not trying to suggest that they knew that they were being watched. Jannie was scanning hard for any possible hardware platforms that might have noticed their approached, and ruled out the first GARDIAN Tower; the signal would have been intercepted a minute or so earlier when it came into view. No, there was ridge that was in view now that was more suspect, and the N7 worked the field-of-view control with her right hand to zoom in, and it took her a moment to find their spotter; a singular Geth platform, armed with what appeared to be either a Designated Marksman Rifle or a Sniper Rifle. She didn't recognize the model of weapon, which wasn't surprising. Jannie didn't think the Geth were going to munitions stores in public areas and ordering weapons from kiosks.

"Detective Vakarian? Prepare for target acquisition and elimination." The Commander ordered. The RRU Sniper unlatched himself from his deployment seat as he hoisted his Armax Arsenals' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle, standing low in the APV as a taloned finger touched the Kuwashii Visor that he wore, activating the microlens that undoubtedly ran in conjunction with the scope of his beast of a Sniper Rifle likely both a targeting reticle and environment adaptation module for elevation drop, windage, air pressure, and other factors that could cause a long-distance shot to miss. The Turian had mentioned that he was one of the best shots on the Citadel, and the tone wasn't boastful or full of pride, merely stating a fact. "Can you hit a stationary target from seven hundred meters from a moving platform on rugged terrain?"

"We'll need to stop at the last moment before I pull the trigger to ensure a killshot." The Special Crimes Detective replied calmly, moving over to the gunners' suite and looking at the enemy highlighted, seeing the direction, distance, and coverage. "It's standing up, that will make it easier. Will a head shot suffice or is a chest shot more effective?"

"We haven't noticed a difference yet." Jannie admitted, cursing the fact that they knew so little of the Geth hardware platforms. Undoubtedly there were hundred if not thousands of 'bodies' available for Alliance Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (ADARPA) for researchers to tinker and toy with, but if the software drivers were 'killed', then likely they would only be learning half of the available capabilities of a Geth platform. "Stick with a chest shot at this time, Detective. I assume the chassis has more vital components, and there's nothing saying that the main processing unit is actually in the… head portion." With two Quarians aboard, perhaps bringing a platform aboard would help fill in some gaps in intelligence.

" _The cranial segment contains the main sensor suite, not the logical processors or the connectivity suite."_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay spoke up, offering a tidbit of information. _"The power core is centered in the chassis, and will essentially serve as its heart. Damaging it will shut down a unit permanently."_

"Understood." Garrus replied, heading towards the 'skywatch' hatch located at the rear of the APV, pulling it open but not sticking himself out of it yet. Jannie could feel the oppressive heat of Therum immediately blasting in, and her Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Battle Armor indicated that her environmental systems and life support kicked in to regulate the internal temperature in her armor. At sixty degrees Celsius, a Human would only last minutes before their body temperature reached a dangerous levels. "Commander? Spot me."

"On it." Jannie magnified the Geth unit with the long-range rifle, the unit's 'flashlight' looking right at them, monitoring. "We have the damn thing's attention for sure, Detective. As soon as you pop out, you'll be in a sniper duel for sure. The shield envelop on the MAKO should protect you, but I'm not about to second-guess Geth capabilities on hacking and other trickery. Better make it quick to be on the safe side, Vakarian."

"It will be my pleasure, Commander." The Turian's flanged voice replied with a hint of amusement, as if to say _what me, worry?_ Come to think of it, Jannie never did ask what Garrus did in Active Duty. Was he a sniper then, too? Likely, considering he was in one of the most elite law enforcement units in the galaxy as a marksman. Special Crimes was a prestigious posting in C-SEC, Sara mentioned on a few occasions throughout the years, those assigned being good at observation, cunning, clever, or able to piece parts of a puzzle quite well. Add to the fact that he was also the Citadel's version of SWAT? Garrus probably thought he had earned that chip on his plated shoulder. "Up in six. Keep eyes on for additional units, Commander."

"Scanning." The Lion replied, reducing the magnification on the lone Geth unit to a more panoramic view, looking for any spotters, additional snipers, or anything else the Geth might have come up with. "One unit detected, Vakarian. Eliminate with extreme prejudice."

"The last thing it will ever feel." The Turian promised as he oriented his sniper rifle towards the access hatch, prepping himself for a quick acquisition and elimination. Detective Vakarian bolted upward, standing at his full two meter height, having already positioned himself to face the appropriate direction, having studied the holographic image of the Geth platform to get an idea where it was located beforehand. The MAKO stopped for the barest of moments before Jannie heard the deep-throated ' _thrum_ ' of the high-end caliber sniper rifle firing, the Turian having exposed himself for but two seconds or so. Jannie noted that in a PiP display that she had selected to keep an eye on the Geth unit in question while scanning for others, the hardware platform practically buckled in half from the force of the impact of the heavy caliber round, piercing right through its chassis and punching a hole big enough for her to fit her gauntleted fist inside. It was a hell of a shot from a hell of a rifle.

"Damn, Detective. Score." The speed of the acquisition and elimination was damn impressive. The Geth had barely been able to get its rifle halfway up before it had been holed, and it had been _looking_ at them.

"I aim to please."

" _Signal spike, Captain!"_ Tali'Zorah announced, still monitoring her Omnitool. _"The Geth are likely quite aware of a decrease in numbers. I'm detecting complex information data downloads, Captain. They are adapting to our presence and the fact that we made a long-distance kill. Next time will not be so easy."_

"Good thing we have a broad repertoire, then." The N7 commented, but admitted that the Quarian Pilgrim had a point. There wouldn't be a singular unit in an overwatch position next time; it would be five or ten, and likely with assaulters or flankers to break up any defensive positions. Or the Geth could move onto the offensive, depending on the requirements of their mission. The ground team would just have to adapt and improvise as the situation dictated. Jannie had spotted the entrance to the Dig Site, noting that there was a reinforced physical barrier to stop vehicular traffic from making its way inside uncontested. Standard defense posture. She didn't doubt that it was either controlled by the Geth electronically, or the components to lower it destroyed."Williams? Stomp it and take us to the Marines' wig-wag. No use disguising ourself now, so speed is of the essence."

" _Pedal is metal'ed."_ The M35 lurched forward as it accelerated, covering the last hundred or so meters over the treacherous terrain at a high rate of speed, the Soldier literally driving the MAKO right next to the pre-fab barracks building, utilizing the 'back' end away from the GARDIAN Towers and the bowl of the dig site itself. _"Parked in the shade, Skipper. Should provide us initial cover and concealment upon deployment. No need giving out our numbers, weapons, and composition."_

"Good call, Army." Jannie was impressed with Sergeant Williams; not every ten-year vet had brains or the necessary experience. The Lion didn't even need to suggest such a thing as moving the vehicle into an unlikely position for the enemy to observe them, and every reason Ash gave was dead on. "Disconnect the power line from the main power battery and physically take it with you, Sergeant." Jannie ordered. "Last thing we need is the Geth hacking our ride or commandeering it and using it against us."

" _Yeah, heard that."_ The Geth had hacked and activated the Colonial Anti-Ship Defense Batteries on Eden Prime, the GARDIAN Towers firing on aircars and shuttles trying to evacuate the warzone as well as firing on any potential reinforcements spaceside. The _Normandy_ had gone in unscathed due to its Internal Emissions System, hiding it from the Systems Alliance-manufactured artillery being controlled by the synthetic race. Shepard didn't doubt that the same was true here on Therum, too. The MAKO powered down as Sergeant Williams disengaged the power supply.

"Alright, folks! Time to walk." The Commander looked down from her elevated seat in the gunners' suite, the holographic display dark after Williams had powered down the APV. "Knuckle up and let's move out."

* * *

Commander Jane Shepard took point as she lead the ground team forward towards the entrance of the barracks of the 1B3/7 MAR, her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative's M-99 Saber Battle Rifle in the low-ready as she stalked forward, using the wall of the pre-fab building as partial cover as her eyes scanned for any signs of life, friendly or hostile. She had her drone Ghost hovering just above her left shoulder, providing passive electronic scan sweeps and reconnaissance duties. She hadn't deployed Bastila yet, the hoverturret still attached to her back and in a low-powered state. Normally she would have had Bastila push forward for sweeping and initial engagements, but she had learned on Eden Prime that the Geth liked to hack anything and everything electronic, especially military-oriented technology. Despite the dense firewalls on Bastila, Ghost, and Cortana, Jannie still had to run a purge scripts and systems reboot on her armor, her drone, and her turret during the mission when a particularly involved firefight had given the Geth time to hack her turret, shutting down its main weapons systems. She had upgraded her cyberwarfare suite security and even encoded a few extra layers of encryption into her systems' VIOS for added protection. What it really meant was that she had given herself extra time against the Geth during a firefight. On Eden Prime, an engagement lasting more than fifteen seconds meant the Geth were infiltrating sub-systems, scripts, protocols, and code. Jannie still hadn't been able to fix her auxiliary shield battery recharger when it had shit itself out of her armor thanks to the Geth. That had cost her a few hours to replace it with a new one, as well as trying to figure out how to fix the old one.

"Team, stack for breach." Jannie called out softly, utilizing only her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series's vocalizer for communications, not wishing to risk her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris Omnitool by opening up the communications protocol and inviting a chance of discovery and hacking. Her Polaris was heavily modified by herself for optimal performance, speed, and datalogging, and half of the software management suites in Cortana and Ghost were regulated through her OmniTool's upgraded high-level protein chip processors. "Myself, Wrex, Niki, and Ash." The Commander called out the team, mixing up what she would have normally gone with for tactical advantage and spontaneity. If she kept changing out the combat structure, perhaps she could keep an edge over the Geth and their combat adaptability. "Detective, as soon as we clear the first room of the barracks, you and Zevin work your way to the roof and provide overwatch. Observe for units, mark for targeting, but no action unless compromised or fired upon. Alenko, you and Tali will provide local security, but keep it discrete."

 _Understood_ and _aye, aye_ came from the respective persons Jannie had mentioned as the N7 stacked next to the main access door of the Marine barracks, sorely noting that not one call or challenge had been given, nor had she seen hide or hair of a Human Being yet. It was approximately mid-day on Therum, and the temperature was certainly encouraging enough to keep everyone inside where air conditioning was available, but no challenge from the Towers? The sight of the lone Geth hardware platform armed with a sniper rifle? The Lion had a pretty damn good idea what she would likely find in the next ten minutes or so.

"Set." Jannie spoke just loud enough for her four-man team to hear as she took the assault position with Urdnot Wrex right behind her with a Turian-crafted Cipritine Armory's Phaeston Heavy Automatic Rifle in his three-fingered hands. Niki'Raan nar Tombay stood behind the large Krogan with an oddly-shaped weapon that didn't seem to actually fire rounds, though the Migrant Fleet Marine-prospect had insisted it was developed specifically for the Geth, calling it an Adas ESD Weapon. The last man in the stack was Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams, cradling her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun in her hands. "Breach-man." Williams move forward in the line, bypassing the three of them as she went to the other side of the entrance to the barracks, where an access panel was set beside the door for physical bypass of the door in case of emergencies. Ashley moved into position as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun flush with the access panel, looking over to Jannie and giving her a quick nod of readiness. The N7 returned the nod as she stood isometrically at the ready; knees slightly bent, torso tilted forward at the hips, her M-99 Saber in the pocket of her right shoulder as her left hand slipped into a hardcase pouch and pulled out a M84 Magnesium/Ammonium Nitrate Flashbang Grenade, holding the priming button with her thumb as she nodded once more to the Soldier.

Williams pulled the trigger of her shotgun, blasting the physical locking mechanism of the door to pieces as she pivoted and kicked the door by its handle laterally, forcing it aside as Shepard tossed the flashbang into the barracks with a sideways pitch as far as she could.

It detonated two seconds later.

"Breach! Breach! Breach!" The Lion called out as she rushed forward, activating her Predator H-Series Armors' servos and actuators with a program that she called 'Speedware'; boosting movement and strength by a factor of fifteen percent to allow her to rush faster and overpower something with the element of surprise. She dashed into the first room using the path of least resistance, her Saber leading the way as she entered through the fatal funnel of the door and cleared the immediate vicinity in one smooth motion while pivoting to the right and sweeping towards the near corner of what appeared to be the main common area as Shepard cleared the near corner of any possible hostiles or other signs of life while moving forward, sweeping her Battle Rifle to port to clear the leading wall to the far right corner for possible engagements, and then to the far left corner, covering half the space with her attention and weapon in a period of a few seconds. Williams had done the same thing as she had, entering second and clearing the left side in the same manner as the N7 in a Systems Alliance tactic known as Battle Drill 6A; Room Clearing. Urdnot Wrex was next as he lumbered in, his Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle in his hand as he sidestepped from the doors' entrance, sweeping the middle of the room from left to right high and low while Niki'Raan came in last with her Adas Rifle sweeping in the same manner as the Krogan, mirroring his movements by sweeping right to left, low and high.

The entire procedure took less than five seconds.

"One man, up and clear." The N7 announced, hearing Williams, Wrex, and Raan returning the same salutation; the main common area of the Marine barracks was bereft of life. That wouldn't be possible if anyone were actually living inside. Jannie bit her lower lip slightly and puckered her bottom lip just enough to force air through and deliver an ear-piercing shrill whistle inside the barracks to get anyone's attention and to alert them that she was Human. After a few seconds of nothing, Jannie knew that there wasn't anyone inside. "Williams, Raan? Check the TOC and see if anyone's on duty and what condition Operations are in. Wrex? Armory is over there. Get eyes on and give me a status on how much munitions are left over, and see if there's anything we can plunder to use against the Geth." Human, Krogan, and Quarian all acknowledged her orders and moved out to comply. "Ghost? Search barracks for anything that might suggest what's happened here in the past twenty hours. No active scans, no li-fi connections, and no carrier intrusions." The drone beeped its acknowledgment as it floated towards where the bunks were.

Jannie moved to the only bunk that had cloth walls around it. She knew without being told who it belonged to; the only female in the Platoon.

The Lion hesitated for a moment before ripping the cloth aside to look into Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Ryder's' bunk area to find it meticulous and empty. Bed was made to a standard that would have pleased a Marine Corp Drill Instructor, area was tidy and organized, and Jannie felt her heart ache at the sight of an electronic rolodex holoframe displaying images, pictures over the years of Sara's friends and family. It was currently showing one of her and Scott arm-and-arm, Silver Medal wearing his team jersey and holding a trophy while his twin gave him a congratulatory hug, wearing a team jersey with his number on it in support of her twin brother. Jannie knew the picture; it was when the Presidium Toshe's won the Citadel Armature Biotiball Championship, and Scott had been named MVP. Jannie watched as the picture changed from one of Sara and Scott to one of Sara and herself during one of her longer stays with the Ryders back when she was a teenager. Te sight of seeing a youthful Sara with her arm around Jannie and a jubilant smile upon her face as she stood next to the redhead had Jannie's heart ache at the sight. _Please, please be okay!_ She didn't know why she did it, but Shepard swiped the rolodex and found herself stashing it in her softcase dropbag behind her hips.

"Skipper?" Staff Sergeant Williams was exiting the TOC as Shepard left Sara's bunk area, Ash having doffed her helmet as they met in the middle of the main common area. "TOC is a bust, Commander. Unoccupied, which is weird as hell, and all the equipment has been hacked and loaded with so much malware that Niki thinks even trying to pull the data drives and trying to reconstruct _how_ the Geth did it would be an exercise in futility." Jannie grunted at that, thinking it likely. That the TOC was unmanned was weird as hell; it was supposed to be manned 24/7 with at least a Sergeant of the Guard, and likely a secondary person to man the radios and datafeeds or as a last defense if the barracks were infiltrated. The only reason it would be left unoccupied would be that the entire area had been overran, and the Marines couldn't hold the position.

They had yet to find one piece of evidence of where the Marines were. No broken equipment, no blood, no bodies, and no defensive positions.

"Alright. Round up and let's investigate further towards the Dig Site." As much as Jane wanted to find the Marines, they weren't the primary objective. "Wrex, find anything in the Armory we can use?"

"Just extra ammo blocks and Universal Power Cells, and not many of them." The large Krogan said as he stepped out of the armory, hoisting a small deployment bag that was obviously full of aforementioned items. "All the weapons and grenades are gone, and no heavy munitions." Not that the big game hunter needed more heavier weaponry. He was already carrying a Korogish Hunting Shotgun known as a Graal Spike Thrower, a Turian Heavy Automatic Rifle, and a M-490 Firestorm Flamethrower on his back. Wrex obviously didn't do subtle. "Don't know if your Marines took everything and dug in, or if it was cleared out later."

"Perhaps both." The Commander replied, re-shouldering her M-99 Saber. It didn't really matter in the long run, only if the Marines survived or not. "Let's link up with the rest of the ground team and see what Detective Vakarian and Agent Raeka have for us. Let's move out." Jannie watched the Army NCO, the Pilgrim Marine, and the large Krogan file out of the wig-wag as she turned to look at the empty barracks, trying to imagine it populated with thirty-seven Marines.

And one Corpsman.

* * *

"Talk to me, folks." Commander Jane Shepard spoke quietly through her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor's vocalizer as she scooted up next to Agent Zevin Raeka, the Salarian female armed with her Ariake Technologies' M-90 Automatic Sniper Rifle in conjunction with Detective Garrus Vakarians' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle, spotting for the RRU Officer. Shepard had gone up to the roof of the Marine's wig-wag and crawled over the surface to avoid skylining herself or alerting any platform to the presence of two snipers or a team of specialists. "What are we seeing?"

" _A fine view of hell, accompanied by the damned."_ Detective Vakarian spoke quietly, his own Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Armor (Turian-variant) vox'ing his words quietly, likely a force of habit from being Rapid Response. _"There are several hardware platforms in the bowl that are still active, moving to and fro for reasons I cannot pinpoint at this time. There are approximately two hundred platforms that are 'dead' due to damage, but no active fighting or defensive positions being set up. No eyes on any Systems Alliance forces or personnel."_

Jannie grunted at that as she reached into a sustainment bag set at the small of her back and pulled out her KVH Industries' Datascope; a monocular image-enhancement device that could zoom and magnify, plot a bearing and calculate the distance between heading and user, a digital laserless rangefinder, an image scanner, a variable-magnification low-light telescope, and multiple passive views to include infrared, thermal, and ultraviolet. While created for Airstrike/Kinetic Strike Packages, it was a versatile tool that Jannie had come to rely upon in a wide variety of situations. Using the Datascope, she saw what Garrus was identifying, about a dozen or so Geth platforms were moving about in the center of the bowl, but in a fashion that didn't seem like guarding, patrolling, or even assembly purposes. It was almost… pacing? That was odd. Jannie snapped a few images with her Datascope, saving them in the units' solid state drive as she scanned as well, noting the amount of 'dead' Geth in the bowl. Someone had fought hard and taken down an impressive amount, but there _were_ Geth survivors, and no one was attacking them. That didn't bode well.

Wait.

Jannie almost missed it at first due to the oppressive energetic light of Knossus, making a sharp contract between light and shadow amongst the terrain features. Near what she assumed to be the entrance of the Dig Site itself, a circular airlock access door. Several things supposedly suspended, though a nearby crag disguised what was suspending them after first until Jannie magnified the area in question, telescopically zooming in.

"Fffffuck." Jannie cursed. "Dragon's Teeth." It hadn't occurred to her that the devices might be used here on Therum. A great many had been deployed on Eden Prime, and sadly, that was where a great many of the Army KIA ended up, falling in battle to the Geth and then 'exchanged' by the Dragons' Teeth to become what Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams coined 'husks' due to their wilted, grayish appearance. The N7 counted the suspended bodies quickly, only seeing a full dozen, but noting that there were obstructions due to the terrain, masking some more to where she could only see a limb or two. "I think I found the Marines." Jannie bit her lower lip as she zoomed in at full power, magnifying at twenty-five strength, centering upon the front-most body she could see. The body was wilted and shriveled, the flesh an almost grey-black with strange neon-like blue pathways irradiating from underneath its desiccated flesh, eyes burst out and leaving pits that glowed a soft electric blue. Definitely a husk. What had her heart sinking was the sight of what it was still wearing, impaled by a three meter spike driven through the center of the torso.

Jannie didn't miss the sight of a set of Aldrin Labs' Onyx Interceptor Armor; Marine standard issuing equipment.

"God _damn_ it." The Lion swore again as she looked over to the Agent and Detective beside her, the two of them still scanning through their scopes. "See the impaled bodies? Husks. Mindless drones, converted bodies of the dead turned into weapons by the enemy."

" _Charming."_ The Turian replied, his tone disgusted. _"Any weapons?"_

"No, they charge at you and try to tear at you with their bare hands, save…" Jannie bit her lower lip, "they do exhibit some sort of personal EMP burst when they get close. Can knock out your shields and throws your electronics into a fritz for ten or so seconds. They don't adapt, they just flood you and overpower you. Guard dogs, basically, definitely with bite."

" _We can engage them from a distance, but then it will alert the Geth."_ Zevin Raeka offered, her tone matter-of-factly. _"Or we can approach with the element of surprise and hit with a devastating first strike, and clear out the survivors quite easily. Whatever we choose, the Geth will take note and adapt."_ The Special Reconnaissance Agent had listened to Jannie's briefing of what little Geth tactics they had discovered on Eden Prime back on the _Normandy_.

"They're already aware we have a sniper." The N7 mulled it over for all of a second. She already knew what she was going to do. "You two and Williams are going to eliminate the Geth opposition from long-distance. If any reinforcements come and try to bunker down or flush you out, they'll be in for a treat." Her helmet hid the nasty smile that Jannie had plastered on her face. "Just… if the husks are alerted? Headshots. The Marines have IFF tags in their armor and dogtags upon them. We can spare their families the horror of what they've become by taking off the heads." That's what Jannie had done on Eden Prime with her Saber. Once the head had been blasted off, the armored husks had looked more like just fallen Soldiers instead of some nightmarish monstrosity. That had helped Ash considerably when they had discovered just who the husks use to be back on Eden Prime; the bodies of her own Platoon members.

" _Understood, Commander."_ Vakarian replied as his taloned hand adjusted something on his Kuwashii visor while Raeka lowered her head to her Indra's high-powered scope. _"We will commence once_ Centurion _Williams arrives and sets up."_ Jannie nodded as she worked her way back towards the access ladder that would take her back to the ground, looking over the edge of the barrack and getting the Staff Sergeant's attention, motioning for the Soldier to come to the roof and miming a sniper rifle. Shepard slid down the ladder Navy-style before Williams made the ascent. The N7 got together with the remainder of the ground crew and gave them a quick synopsis of what to expect and what to do as she led herself Urdnot Wrex, Tali'Zorah, Niki'Raan, and Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko around the barracks in a file, entering through the humanoid-sized door that would allow them to enter into the Dig Site proper past the reinforced barrier that denied vehicular visitors access. The external duty station wasn't much more than a partition room that had access for exterior and interior of the Dig Site, along with a station for opening the retractable barrier, which Jannie left alone. Either it was hacked or monitored, and likely the MAKO wouldn't be effective in the bowl, considering that were many jagged outcroppings and the fact that the bowl itself wasn't all that large. Between the entrance of the guarded area and three snipers in a superior position, Jannie didn't think that the MAKO would be needed for normal ground forces just to make it to the entrance of Dig Site Alpha.

"Wait for the signal. Guns, no tech or candy." Shepard announced quietly as her team of four waited inside the guard station, ready to exfiltrate out the interior door when the snipers began firing upon the Geth Troopers. She trusted Detective Garrus Vakarian to run things top-side for her, the Turian a part of the famed Citadel Security Services Rapid Response Unit. She knew some of the rumors about them, mostly thanks to Sara, and Jannie saw how lethal the Turian was back on the Cit in that shit club Clora's Den, calmly and coolly going through troublemakers with his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle like he was on a range. Jannie reminded herself to ask a few polite question about the Turian when they got back on the _Normandy_. She wasn't a fan of Turians in general, but she learned long ago to gauge on an individual basis as well. It wasn't like Detective Vakarian was the one that killed her father back in the FCW.

There was a cacophony report of three sniper rifles firing at the same time overhead.

"Go! Go! Go!" Jannie shouted as she rushed out the interior-facing door, her M-99 Saber at the ready as the N7 burst forward with the aid of her Speedware program, moving to the first piece of real estate that had cover attached to it; a short pre-fab cargo container that was taller than she. Shepard shouldered into the fabricated metal wall for a second before executing a pie to round the corner, covering a wide arc field of fire when she heard the three snipers going to town on the Geth, precision fire raining down upon the platforms as Shepard spotted several Troopers moving to cover to gain a better position against the marksmanship. Jannie put her close-quarters holographic sights upon the closest Trooper to her, still a hundred meters away as she fired twice in a controlled pair, the first round making the Trooper stumble as its kinetic shielding defused a portion of her M-99's force before striking the hardware platform before the second pieced right through it and took the Trooper right in the chest, boring into its chassis and making it tumble onto the craggy ground. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was on the opposite side of the same container, armed with an Milkor SuperSix Multi-Range Munitions Launcher, the EOD Specialist firing explosive rounds into pockets of Geth for maximum effectiveness, creating heavy splash damage with shrapnel and explosions.

Wrex was similarly positioned at another container, engaging with his Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle, firing heavily into a mix of Troopers to suppress and wear down their shields while the Quarian Pilgrims used a physical retaining wall centered between herself and Wrex and began employing their anti-Geth weaponry. Shepard was surprised to see that Niki'Raan nar Tombay's Adas ESD Rifle fired some sort of metal tag at a Trooper, connecting with it before firing what appeared to be a magnetically-aligned arc of _fucking lighting_ at the Trooper, causing it to spasm with the current and then violently _explode_ amongst its synthetic kin, knocking several around while shrapnel from its hardware platform sprayed in all directions, damaging a few units. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya had her Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun in her own three-fingered hands as she raised it and fired a sweeping cone of ionizing discharge between her weapon and four Geth, creating a spark gap between the weapon and each individual Geth at the same time, as well as between the Geth unit themselves. It was a Jacob's Ladder weapon! The four Geth units caught in the electrical storm seized and shuddered for several seconds before falling over to the ground, obviously fried.

Fuck, she wanted one!

" _Damn, I need me one of those."_ Wrex offered as he switched out from his Phaeston to his Korogish Graal Hunting Shotgun and put a large caliber sabot round _through_ a Geth platform with one shot, practically blasting it in half despite its shields and whatever armor it happened to have. Jannie snorted in agreement as she continued to engage with her Saber, taking out two more platforms as the units fired in staccato unison, alternating suppressive fire from one to another before one was holed by what was obviously a Widow round. The Lion slipped back behind cover as she cocked back the heat port on her rifle to expose the copper heat sink and convectionally cool the weapon down for four seconds before locking it back into place and returning into the fray, finding that of the two dozen Geth platform that had been in the bowl, only three were still standing within ten seconds of the initial engagement. The last units didn't fare better than the rest of its kin.

" _Skipper? Husks."_ Dammit. Ash had chanced a Comms to inform them of the threat, which she kept it short and sweet while keeping the ground team abreast.

"Eliminate." Jannie ordered with a heavy heart, knowing that the husks weren't just former Human Beings, but former _Marines_. In her years of service in the Navy, she had had cause to kill Humans in the name of defense of Mankind. Elysium had been the learning lesson there, Human bandits, pirates, and slavers working alongside Batarians and Turians to assault Illyeria. It had been the same with the Skyllian Blitz, especially with Elanos Haliat, the Turian mastermind behind much of the attack on Elysium, his forces populated with Human mercenaries for cannon-fodder. Jannie had even killed a service member before, a Sailor who had a gun on his girlfriend during a lovers' spat, having to shoot him when he wouldn't be talked down. But that was different; those people had made their choices, no matter how recklessly or ignorant. The Marines on Therum had fought with duty, honor, and courage. And the Geth had shit on their brave sacrifice by warping them into something monstrous. Williams had almost died pleading to the former members of her unit as the Husks attacked them on Eden Prime, tearfully pleading for them to stop as seven of them rushed her in a mindless frenzy. Lieutenant Alenko had saved her from being torn to piece by Biokinetically lifting her from danger while Jannie and Bastila gunned down the Husks. Ash had a little bit of a mental breakdown from that. The Lion didn't blame her at all.

The sniper rifles began firing as Jannie stepped from around her cover to see dozens of husks sprinting towards the ground teams position, moaning and screaming as they charge ahead without tactic or finesse. She added her own fire to the din, picking off Husks, firing twice on each of the abominations to strain their shields and then piece their armor to kill the exchanged creature inside. She took down four this way as Wrex and Alenko fired into the oncoming wave, the Krogan using his Phaeston while the Engineer loaded Claymore rounds into his Milkor and fired wide-cone sprays of metal to overtax the shields on several at once, the third shot bringing several down with pulverized limbs from the spray of pellets. The Quarian Pilgrims were armed with more standard firearms, each of them using sub-machine guns to either finish off the wounded from Alenko's devastating fire, or any that were injured greatly but still appeared to be moving. It was over in less than a minute.

"Ghost? Tally the Husks. How many?" Jannie asked her cyberwarfare drone.

" _Thirty-one."_ The personal drone replied. _"Altered Personnel Signals are at zero, Commander."_ That meant it wasn't detecting anymore Husks in the vicinity.

"Did… did anyone see a Husk in white armor with pink undersides?" Jannie asked, looking over to Wrex and the Pilgrims. Her heart shuddered at the question, but she hadn't noticed any Husks in Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Armor. _PleasePleasePlease…_

"No, just the standard matte black Onyx you Humans are fond off." The big game hunter replied, Niki'Raan nodding in agreement. The thought… the thought of Sara being impaled… Jannie quashed that fear quickly, though it left a sickening feeling in her gut. _Please let her be okay!_

" _Skipper! We've got incoming! Fast-mover on approach!"_ Williams called out over the SquadCom, risking detection as Shepard looked up for the sight of aerial vehicles, seeing what appeared to be a Vehicular Deployment Craft flying over the bowl of the Dig Site. It swept into the air space and hovered over the center of the Dig Site for a moment as something large disengaged from the bottom of the craft and fell to the ground with a loud thud, some sort of… large vehicle of some kind? A Geth tank? The N7 didn't see wheels or treads, and it didn't look like a hovertank or a contragravity-device. It looked like… well, a lump of metal, curved and elegant, but unlike anything she had ever seen.

" _Oh, Keelah…"_ Tali'Zorah whimpered out loud, her tone… frightened.

" _It's an Armature!"_ Niki'Raan called out, alarmed. _"Walking tank platform!"_

Jannie looked at the thing as it… transformed, for lack of a better term. The metal plates moved and shifted quickly as four mantis-like legs unfolded themselves from the main body as a crane-like neck apparatus disgorged itself from the top of its back, folding forward as the metal plates shifted back to protect the interior parts and components as the legs lifted the body up into a fifteen meter-tall armored artillery weapons platform, the 'flashlight' head glowing with neon-light intensity. Jesus, it was like a fucking Decepticon Transformer!

"What does it do? What's its capabilities?" Jannie asked as the head oriented towards their position, the legs walking spider-like as it pivoted the body to engage them.

" _Plasma artillery! That main cannon melts through metal!"_ Niki replied, her voice filled with fear. _"Cover is useless! Just run and pray to the Ancestors it misses!"_

To punctuate her point, the Lion heard the telltale sign of a massive power draw as the Armature looked at them with it's glowing face, the light dimming to almost non-existence before it belched out blue-white plasmic fire.

* * *

Author's Notes: Oh fuck, it's _that_ fight. I can't count how many times I lost to that goddamn thing.

Much of the things about the MAKO comes from my time in Iraq and Afghanistan, including loadout concepts and various systems. The MAKO's turret is a remote weapon systems (which I based the system off of the real world CROWS Remote Weapons Platform), effectively sealing everyone inside from environmental hazards. There will be other current era weaponry and ideas, such as physical drones (both flight and ground), tactics (such as the 5x25), and various electronic warfare devices. I also called it a 'MAKO' instead of a 'Mako' because many military vehicle names are actually acronyms (like the HMMWV Humvee, or High-Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle, or the MRAP, or Mine-Resistant, Ambush Protected Vehicle.) I also have the MAKO manufacturer as General Dynamics, a company that is responsible for the manufacture and maintenance for many military vehicles, like the STRYKER or the LAV-25. Surprisingly, it was once a division of Chrysler. Bet you didn't know that GM and Ford both have Defense branches for the manufacture of military-oriented vehicles? The Ford Crown Victoria was a Law Enforcement-oriented design created for cops (and a civilian model was considered and approved), and Bavarian Motor Wagon (yes, BMW) has a military division for German military vehicles, as they were the ones who supplied National Socialist Germany with its tanks, the Panzer and Panzer-II (the engines, at the very least).

Like in Where The Law Stands Tall and A Fox Amongst The Wolves, there will be ammo considerations, unlike the first _Mass Effect_ with its seemingly endless ammo. A few people had a problem with me making 'calibers' for weapons, but considering us Americans' love for big bullets, not to mention Turian mentality, it does make sense. So this will be something in between Mass Effect 1 and 2; a weapon can fire dozens to hundreds of rounds per ammo block, but extra ammo blocks are carried.

I mentioned in the Hale/Meer Chronicles in one of the Eden Prime chapters that the Geth hacked the Planetary Defense Systems on Eden Prime and destroyed the Colonial Air Force Fleet protecting the colony instantly, destroying thirteen Destroyer-Class vessels simultaneously. This is true for this story as well. The Geth have the same capabilities as the Cylons in the re-imaged _Battlestar Galactica_ for being able to intrude into networks and play havoc.

Garrus Upgraded! - Citadel Security Services Rapid Response Unit (C-SEC RRU) is an idea I've play with since Mass Effect vs. Aliens. All major metropolitan police agencies have a SWAT-styled unit, and the Cit is no different. Thus, RRU. Garrus Vakarian is a Detective for the Special Crimes Unit (an FBI-like division for C-SEC) as well as a member of the RRU (which is more in the style of the FBI's elite shooting team, the Hostage Rescue Team (HRT), likely some of the best shooters and urban combat specialists in America, and possibly the planet). While the game doesn't say _why_ Garrus was selected to investigate a SPECTRE (and Saren was considered their top agent), normally such politically-charged scenarios such as these are handled by certain individuals who've the abilities and finesse to handle them. Detective Garrus Vakarian is a rather celebrated cop on the Cit, as you will see later (and why).

Urdnot Wrex - Wrex gets a polish too; he's a big game hunter. Not just some merc, Wrex is the one hired for the tough targets, be it animal, vegetable, or mineral. Colony is getting extorted by a pirate band? Call Wrex. Thresher Maw needs smacking? Call Wrex. Corporation board with its spit-shine bodyguards holding you over a barrel? Call your favorite Krogan. And he doesn't do subtle. He's 800 years old; he doesn't bother with riff-raff, considering he'll just outlive them anyways. He's been fighting longer than some levels of evolution, and he's seen and survived it all; including this, including _you_.

Alenko Reimaged - Never really liked Kaidan in the first game. Actually, not much in the second or third, either. He is now Navy EOD, a combat engineer who specializes in hacking computer software (for disabling door locks or bombs) and has Biotics for personal protection. Instead of a wimpy pistol, he carries a fucking _grenade launcher_ to battle, armed with an OmniGel-minifacturing suite to create rounds and load them with mods for emergencies (or fun). BTW, Navy and Army EOD is almost semi-SF, the requirements rather verbose and stringent. Have you seen those fucking bomb suits? They weigh in at 90 lbs! Kaidan also gets a little buddy, Johnny-5, a tEODor Bomb Disposal and remote access ground drone. Unlike Bastila, it is not a combat-oriented drone, more of a remote-piloted device. Strangely enough, EOD Officers go through the _exact same_ training as its enlisted members, the 42-week long EOD school. They can dispose of bombs like anyone else in their unit.

I've included two DLC Characters. If you've played _Andromeda_ , you'll recognize Zevin Raeka as the original Salarian Pathfinder, the not-Dalatrass. The only thing known about her was that she was the savior of some planet, rescuing a portion of its biome before it was destroyed by an asteroid. Yet on the _Paarchero_ , she has no compunctions making Kett applesauce. Niki'Raan is a completely OC, and you'll learn more about the Marine recruit throughout the story. And yes, she's carrying an Adas Anti-Synthetic Rifle.

'Speedware' is actually something I stole from the RPG PnP Cyberpunk 2077 Game, where it was actually a body modification, not an armor modification. There is also another program called 'Rush' in which Jannie's armor delivers a measured dose of epinephrine into her system to enhance reaction times, stimulate reflex response, and to dilate time attention. This will be the adrenaline rush talent. There will be a few things from the Cyberpunk pen-and-paper game, such as the KVH Industries' DataScope.

Universal Power Cells - A Salarian invention, UPC's are portable power cells to run small equipment and devices for extended length of time, meant to be modular and adaptable. The Turian Military crafted many militant items with the thought of using these devices for power, and the UPC has become the galactic standard for portable power usage. They can be used from powering monitoring equipment to recharging shield batteries in ones' armor. (Yes, these are the Power Cells from Andromeda)

Husks - The first game didn't really make Husks that bad. Honestly, the video **'Take Earth Back'** shows a two second flash of an impaled man being huskified, and an absolute shit-ton of them assaulting people. That's the husks I'm going for. They can also convert corpses for use as well, as I can't see the real difference as to why the victim must still be alive to convert/exchange. I almost did away with the Dragon's Teeth and implemented the Borg Nanite Injector from Star Trek. Honestly, that one scene from ' _First Contact_ ' where that one Red Shirt gets shot up and begins to change was pretty freaky back in the day. I almost went with that. I might even still.

Geth Adaptation - This actually is stolen from the Borg. In Star Trek, the Borg continue to adapt, and energy-based weaponry becomes ineffective as Borg shielding evolves to render it obsolete (based upon frequency or perhaps negative current charge, I guess). For the Geth, I went with tactics adaptation. Imagine an evolving-sophistication chessmaster; that's what I see the Geth doing, considering they are a logic-based machine race with a hive intelligence mentality. They study your moves, your tactics, your weapons, your positioning… and they adapt. You might win the first battle, but the second one? They will be tactically superior, having the best defense against your tactics and moving to flank and assault in the best way according to your military paradigm. Jannie mentions having to 'change' tactics on Eden Prime. This is why.

The Milkor 'SuperSix' MRML - This is the Real-World Milkor M32 Multiple Grenade Launcher, the revolver-like multipurpose grenade launcher you commonly see in movies and video games. The SuperSix is a variant that can fire multi-purpose grenades, to include low velocity, non-lethals, medium velocity, and able to hit up to 1200 meters and dispersal in a 20m by 60m area, firing all six shots in about three seconds. This is a mean mother of a gun. To think I hip-carried and pistol-fired an M320 Grenade Launcher when I could have had this beast?

The Adas Electro-Static Discharge Rifle - Based off of _Resistance: Fall of Man's_ Seeker Rifle, the Adas fires a high-conductivity tag that connects weapon with the unit, and creates an ionizing threshold based upon Maxwell's Laws of Electrodynamics as it supercharges the electromagnetic connection between the two, creating a spark gap. This fries any and all electronic components, overcharges batteries into depletion, and cooks weaker components. Once physically 'tagged', the Adas can engage a target regardless of cover or line-of-sight, though a new tag must be installed and fired for each new target with accuracy. Against organic enemies, it instantly fries shields, disrupts Biotics, and causes electrical damage. Against mechanical enemies, it is a quick death sentence.

The Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emission Shotgun - Same principle as the Adas, except that it 'fires' supercharged protons, ionizing the air and any conductive materials in front of it within a fifty meter area, creating a 'Jacob's Ladder' effect in which several objects become conductive and electrical discharges flood the area. While not as 'quick' as the Adas, it is an area-effect weapon in which cover is negligible, a target not even needing to be in line-of-sight or a clear target in order to hit. In a space vessel, surrounded by metal hull and decks, it is a very devastating weapon that can clear a massive area due to arcing traveling down corridors and around corners. Its draw backs are that it can cause friendly-fire, has a limited front range, and eats Power Cells like a mother.

Claymore Round - The 40mm shotgun round that works much like a Claymore mine; a wide-angle spray of shrapnel (or pellets) meant to injure over a wide arc. The Carnage Round from the game looked to be more of an explosive (armor-piercing) shell, so I'm using an anti-personnel round as well. Because grape shot is awesome.


	8. Fall Of The House Of Therum, III

_Ah, yes; 'BioWare'. The video game company that lets you decide the ending. We have dismissed this claim._

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 15, 2183**

Author's Note: The Armature got an upgrade. With the motherfucker of all mechahellbeasts; the Cyberdemon of Doom. Remember Spider-Brain?

Thank you Mick Gordon for making one totes awesome soundtrack with the new Doom game. Totally wrote this chapter to "Rust, Dust, and Guts"

And now back to your regularly-scheduled crying as you reload from a Critical Mission Failure.

* * *

" _FUCK!"_ Commander Jane Catherine Shepard shouted as she dove to one side, abandoning her cover from behind a pre-fabricated cargo container as a bolt of blue-white plasmic fire slashed against the side of the container, piercing right through to the other side as the bolt splashed upon the ground, spraying droplets of superheated slurry all over the ground as the resulting lump plastically congealed into an oozing mess. The Lion of Elysium rolled back up on her feet from her dive to look at the cover she had been using, shocked o see that the plasmic bolt had went in-and-out through the container, and the resulting ring around the new holes were so hot that the metal was warped and molten.

A singular shot would easily kill.

"Scatter and defend!" The N7 called out as she fired three quick rounds towards the fifteen meter-tall walking artillery piece as she saw two metal pieces in the torso area slide away to reveal two multi-barreled weapons as the revolver-like contraptions spun up at a high rate of speed for perhaps half a second before a torrent of round began to blister through the area as Jannie dove again towards a small outcropping of basaltic rock, hearing rounds peppering everywhere around her as her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Battle Armor's Augmented Reality Display on the inside of her helmet's viewer showed that her shields were nearly fucking shot with less than a second of being under fire. _Holy fuck, I could have easily been killed!_ It was actually hard to kill something quickly with modern weapons and technology with the advancements of armor, shields, and programmable materials. To be considered an elite lethal combatant required more than just awesome weaponry; rigorous training, superior tactics, and a mind that analyzed and adapted were all healthy requirements. But now she was facing something about as lethal as a small warship. This was well out of her expertise. "Snipers! Wear out its shields!"

" _My damn rounds are just ricocheting off!"_ Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams cried out in frustration as Jannie switched to a PiP view from her personal drone, Ghost, to look over her cover without exposing herself. The Lion saw that the Armature had pivoted to engage Battlemaster Urdnot Wrex, who fired at the enormous mech with his Korogish Graal Hunting Shotgun with a snarl, and Jannie saw what Williams meant; the round just deflected off the shields instead of piecing through at a slower, weaker force, completely bouncing off! Fuck, this thing had _starship_ shields! _"We need something bigger, Skipper! A_ lot _bigger!"_

"Vakarian! Can your Widow dent it?" Jannie asked over her SquadCom. There was no use being subtle with a fifteen meter Metal Gear-thing trying to melt them or blast them into molecules. The torrent of the chain guns echoed through the bowl of the Dig Site once more, sounding like a giant ripping a sail in half as the big game hunter ducked behind his cover and moved from the immediate position to escape being fried by that plasma cannon.

" _Negative, my rounds bounce too, even a straight shot."_ Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian replied, his tone disgusted at the revelation. The Armax Arsenals' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle was one of the most powerful sniper rifles in the galaxy! And it was _bouncing_ its shots? _"Switching to High-Impact Velocity Rounds."_

" _My grenades aren't even going through!"_ Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko called out as the Explosive Ordinance Disposal Officer fired round after round from his Milkor M32 SuperSix MRML Grenade Launcher. _"I just went through six HEAT rounds. Loading Flak."_ Damn, between Wrex's behemoth of a shotgun, Vakarian's mammoth sniper rifle, and Alenko's grenade launcher, that was practically all of the heaviest ordinance her ground team had!

"Ghost! I need scan and analysis. Find me a weakness!" Jannie called out as she reached behind her back and tapped Bastila, the hoverturret disengaging from her back and powering up into a ready-state, the contragravity pad underneath keeping it afloat as the main-and-secondary weapons systems booted up. "Go get 'em, girl!" The assault turret floated away to starboard as it began peppering the Armature with its duel coaxial machine guns while sending a pre-fab rocket from its launcher into the fifteen meter tall platform, Bastila moving in a strafing pattern as the Armature reoriented to engage the turret. Jannie noticed something about the mech, a design flaw. "The head doesn't pivot! The whole body has to turn to engage with its cannon and machine guns! Disperse in a circular fashion and attack the flanks and rear. Keep eyes on whoever is baiting the front!"

The N7 queued up her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool and selected a Hack App, loading a simple Trojan virus into a protein chip that was immersed in piezoelectric OmniGel before firing it from her Polaris towards the behemoth Geth. She suspected that the powerful shields were modulated for the frequency for Eezo-accelerated firearms and munitions, sub-light rounds, and other magnetically-accelerated means. But an OmniTool fired with pressure, not Eezo or magnetics, and fired much slower. Jannie smiled when the Hack Tag went right through the shield unimpeded and struck the shell of the armor. Well, supersonic weaponry worked past the shields. Pity it didn't do shit to the armor.

" _Jane, analysis complete."_

"Talk to me, Ghost." Jannie moved from one piece of cover to another, getting behind a cargo container that had an Alliance Red Cross on the top of the door. Huh, a Clinic? She would worry about that later.

" _The 'Armature' has denied all software intrusion, but I was able to analyze its hardware."_ The VI suite informed her as Jane locked her heat dispersal bolt forward on her Saber and checked her PiP screen to see that the walking tank was facing away from her. She rounded the corner of the cargo container and fired all eight shots in quick succession at the Armature's back, the rounds bouncing off its shields. _"The hull's shielding is reinforced carbon nanotube interlaced with diamondglass and iridium-reinforced steel."_

"Fuck, that's _ship_ armor." Shepard realized, knowing what the Turian Hierarchy normally used for their Birds-of-Prey Corvette-Class vessels. "What else?" Jannie asked as she locked back the heat-dispensing bolt on her Saber. How in the _fuck_ were they suppose to pierce ship armor with weapons meant for personnel?

" _Suggested power analysis rates the power core at one point two one gigaWatts."_ The Lion felt her jaw drop at that. That… was the same power a _Corvette_ generated on patrol operations! They were basically fighting a fucking ship on the ground! _"A majority of energy consumption is based upon the main cannon, which has only fired once so far, suggesting a long cooldown period in between each shot."_

" _The drone is right!"_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay replied, the Migrant-Fleet Marine prospects' tone excited. _"It fires once ever two standard Galactic minutes!"_ That was two and a two-thirds Terran minutes, if Jannie remembered correctly. That meant if they kept hitting the shields, the Armature wouldn't have the necessary power to use its plasmic cannon. Or it would have to drop its shields to fire. And the way those chainguns kept engaging, they had to be near their heat management limit unless the Geth had some way to shunt thermals while firing. The ground team had the Armature surrounded, engaging from the sides and rear while whomever the unit was facing kept mobile to avoid the chaingun fire and the possibility of the plasma cannon. Bastila was firing rockets as fast as it could, one every ten seconds, while its duel machine guns fired staccato from one to another to keep up the volume of fire without overheating. _"Captain, I notice that the leg actuators aren't armored at the base of the hull. If we clip one of those, we might score a mobility kill!"_

" _That would make this significantly easier."_ Agent Zevin Raeka replied as she fired another triple-burst from her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle. The Salarian female clicked her tongue in disappointment as her rounds simply bounced off the shielding. The not-Dalatrass queued up her own OmniTool on her left arm, selecting something, and Jannie saw what appeared to be a globule of OmniGel launch itself like a football at the Armature. Not only did it pass through the kinetic shielding, when the globule impacted and cracked against the hull, it splashed into a magma-like slurry onto the hull. Shepard watched as the plasticity fluid superheated the armor, making it glow red.

"Zevin! Was that thermite?" The N7 called out as she watched the slurry continue to leak down the side of the main torso unit, neither dispersing or cooling down. It was the first indication of any kind of effectiveness.

" _Chlorine trifluoride."_ The Salarian Agent announced as she scampered towards different cover, behind what appeared to be a piece of industrial equipment. _"That hull is meant to disperse explosives. A slower thermal reaction works, like plasma or napalm."_

" _That I've got."_ Wrex chuckled over the SquadCom as the Krogan moved forward from his defensive position, pulling out what he called a Nakmor Arms M-490 Firestorm; a heavy weapon that had a cylindrical tank sticking out of the bottom. The Lion watched as the Krogan charged forward, sprinting at a speed three times faster than any Human Being as he practically barreled his way underneath the fifteen meter mech and aimed upward with the weapon in his hands. Jannie watched as it began to geyser out sticky flames upon the main hull of the Armature near where Raeka had initially hit the Geth unit, laughing as he set the platform on fire. Whatever he was using was sticking onto the hull as flames bloomed from the liquid slurry, looking like molten lava. _"Now this really IS a firefight!"_

" _Jane, I have captured the shield's frequency modulation."_ Ghost spoke up from over Jannie's left shoulder as she watched Bastila continue to strafe and pepper the walking tank, its rockets splashing against the shields uselessly. _"Intrinsic electrical field drain commencing."_

"Suck that puppy dry, Ghost!" Jannie called out as she fired at the same spot where Wrex had set the Armature on fire. Her rounds still bounced off. "If anyone's got thermal or electrical munitions, use it with my compliments!"

" _We've got that covered!"_ Specialist Niki'Raan nar Tombay called out as she continued to fire with her Adas ESD Rifle, a singular finger-thick arc of electrostatic discharge connecting from weapon to platform sparking back and forth. _"We're using power cells at a prodigious rate, though!"_

"Ghost! Link the energy drain program with the Quarians' power! Juice them!" Shepard called out as Lieutenant Alenko began firing grenades at the Armature, the rounds exploding off the shields but the contents passing right through, a splash of superheated slurry cascading over one of the legs, using incendiary rounds to try and melt through the armor. Jannie moved from cover to cover as the tank-like mech began to engage her position with its volley of chaingun fire, rounds striking against the side of the Clinic cargo container at such a blistering rate-of-fire that some began piercing through after a few seconds. Those damn things had to be firing at something like twelve shots per second. Each! A separate grenade impacted against the hull of the Geth, a dispersal concussive round fired from Staff Sergeant Williams' Heckler and Koch M320 Variable Munitions Launcher. It was added by a conic blast of electrical fury from Tali'Zorah nar Reyya's Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun, several arc fluxes linking between the weapon and the Geth. Another thermite charge exploded against the head of the Geth as Raeka launched her OmniGel round at the platforms' main sensor suite as Detective Garrus Vakarian put another Widow round towards the unit, and _clipped_ the servo that connected hull to the front port leg. The tank actually _staggered_.

" _HIT!"_ Ash whooped out, her tone jubilant. _"Its shields are down!"_ Jannie was still behind her cover as rounds perforated the basaltic cover she had taken cover behind as the murderous chainguns still tried to fill her full of holes, the rocky outcropping being chipped away by its blistering rate-of-fire. She looked at her PiP from Bastila's point-of-view on her Augmented Reality Overlay on the inner portion of her helmets' visor to see the hit score.

"Either we're winning or its powering up that main cannon!" Jannie reminded her ground team, remembering _one point two one gigaWatts_ as a power consumable. She had no idea how much it took to run the armored platform, how much it needed for its shields, and likely how much its emergency systems were trying to counter what her team was doing to it. But one point two one gigaWatts was a hell of a lot of power. "Keep going for that joint, Detective!" A look to Bastila's PiP overlay showed her what Jannie feared; the 'flashlight' was growing brighter, and it was pointing right at her position.

" _Skipper! Bug out, now!"_

Jane just fucking sprinted it, not bothering with finesse or tactical advantage as she felt more than saw the blast of plasmic death coat her position as the N7 executed a baseball slide to another cover position, some utility equipment vehicle meant to move around heavy objects. Great, she was hiding behind a forklift. A quick double-check of the basaltic cover she had previously occupied showed the rocky outcropping _melting_ as everything around it in a three meter area was slagged with superheated slurry. _Holy fuck that's a gun_. A second slower and she wouldn't even have been organic sludge.

" _Commander?"_ Kaidan's voice was almost panicky. _"Your back's on fire!"_

Well… shit.

" _Hold still."_ Agent Raeka announced as, much to Jannie's horror, fired some OmniGel-encapsulated round at _her_ , striking her in the back with noticeable force. The Lion grunted at the impact as a spray of Bose-Einstein condensate supercooled subatomic particles showered the back of her armor. _"Fire's out."_ The Salarian sounded amused.

"Thanks." Jannie replied dryly. "Cortana? Damage assessment."

 _-Seventy-four percent of your backpiece has melted into ineffectiveness,-_ the feminine-sounding VI software management suite announced. - _Thirty-eight percent of your tasset has melted into ineffectiveness. Twenty-nine percent of your port-side cuisse has melted into ineffectiveness. Seventeen…-_

"Just give me a wiregram and percentage overlay, Cortana." Jannie was a little horrified at the damages she had sustained as the ARO showed her a semi-opaque icon of her armor with separate percentages for each component of her armor. It sounded like she had practically been gooified, and the percentages confirmed it. What she took that to mean was that her armor was likely combat-ineffective now. "Are environmental seals in place?"

 _-Negative.-_

Well, she guessed the fire wasn't the only reason why she was feeling so hot. Jannie was now exposed to Therum's environment and its sixty Celsius heat. Wonderful. Waitaminute, the not-Dalatrass fired something _cold_ at her…

"Raeka! Can you fire that cold blast thing at some of the thermal damage at the Armature? Rapid thermalization can crack metal much faster that heat can melt it." Considering that the hull was made out of synthetic diamond pieces integrated with iridium-laced steel molded together with reinforced carbon nanotubes, fire just wasn't going to cut it.

" _A theory I can work with."_ The Special Task Groups Agent spoke out as Shepard peeked over her forklift to see the Salarian firing another OmniGel-encased round at the mech, striking where Wrex had poured heavy plasma slurry upon the torso. The round struck the glowing metal dead-on, passing right through the shields as the metal supercooled and the stress of rapid thermalization caused it to crack, a resounding popping noise echoing throughout the dig site bowl as a chunk of hull splintered off of the torso and fell. _"Detective? Introduce yourself."_

" _With great pleasure."_ The Turian's flanged voice replied as a Widow round went through the shields of the platform and struck through the fist-sized hole created by the rapid thermalization. One of the legs shuddered as it began to jerk, its movements no longer smooth and coordinated. _"Raan? Can you tag the interior of that hole?"_

" _I need it to stop moving for a moment!"_ The Quarian Pilgrim exclaimed, her tone excited. Jannie knew instantly what the RRU Sniper had in mind.

"Wrex? Make a bigger hole."

" _Now we're talking."_ The Battlemaster chuckled as he raised a fist that seemingly wavered with heat, glowing faintly blue, activating his Biotics as he threw what appeared to be a cascading wave of force right at the hole before pulling out his Hunting Shotgun and putting a sabot round right at the damage. Whatever Wrex had used Biokinetically had weakened it further as the Graal round snapped more of the metal off, turning a fist-sized hole into something Jannie could stick her helmeted head through.

" _For the Homeworld!"_ The Marine-hopeful shouted as Niki'Raan loaded a tag into her Adas ESD Rifle and fired it at the Armature, the metal connectivity tag firing right through the shields and into the damaged section of the hull. _"HIT!"_ her tone was jubilant as the N7 watched the Quarian moved towards Tali'Zorah, ducking into her cover. _"Cousin! Link with my tag!"_

" _Handshake successful!"_ The Quarian Engineer replied as both Pilgrim girls lifted their respective weapons and fired, the Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun and Adas ESD Rifle firing at the same time, several arcs of rapid ionization connecting as bolts of lighting arced between the Quarian weapons and the Armature, piercing inside.

The effect was instantaneous.

The Armature shuddered completely as it stopped moving, jerking once before it began to list to starboard, the mobility legs losing their ability to hoist the platforms' weight as it buckled and fell over, the flashlight dimming into darkness. It laid upon the ground, unmoving and unresponsive.

"Ghost? Analysis." Jannie called out as she stepped away from her cover, her Saber aimed at the mechanical platform, taking no chances.

" _Power core reading is at zero Watts, Jane."_ The drone replied a moment later as it hovered over her left shoulder. _"Zero carrier signal."_

"Holy shit." The N7 let out a deep breath as she took a knee, feeling the sweat that was rapidly drying on her forehead from Therum's heat, beginning to truly feel the environment of the planet now that she wasn't in active combat. At that temperature, she'd likely couldn't drink water or electrolyte-rich fluids fast enough to keep herself hydrated. "Detective? I need a munitions and consumables report. Lieutenant? You, Zevin, and the Quarians go look for extra Power Cells. Sergeant Williams, I'm going to need you to look at my back." She hadn't noticed it before, but now that the fighting was down, she could feel the burning, itching feeling crawling along her back. "Yeah, pretty sure I got scorched. Meet me in the Clinic to my Starboard, might as well use it." Jannie felt a stab of guilt and regret at the mention of the Clinic. All she wanted to do was clear that damn dig site and find Sara, but she wouldn't be saving anyone being reckless, taking more casualties than necessary. It was already too late for the majority of the Marines of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, but she wouldn't be saving anyone if she got herself or someone else killed out of impatience.

Jannie entered the Clinic with a pain in her heart as she turned on the main lights, seeing the OLED screen lights turn on a soft glow that illuminated the interior of the cargo container as Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams entered right behind her, closing the Clinic door as the air conditioning kicked in. The redhead pulled off her helmet and felt the cool relief caressing her heated skin, the interior of her armor having already reached forty degrees Celsius.

"Damn, Skipper, that Geth did a number on your back." Ash clucked as she looked at the Commanders' back. "I can probably get your armor resealed in a jiff, but it's a combat loss, I'm afraid. That's pretty sweet armor, too. How long did it take to make it look like Master Chiefs'?"

"About a week or so." Jannie admitted as she began undoing the chest piece and backpiece of her curiess, grunting at the fact that she had to break off whatever melted materials had fused them together. She frowned at the sight of the backpiece, seeing that it had almost melted through, and the rest look like slag. Ash was right; it was a complete write-off. "I've got two other armors back on the _Normandy_ , but this was my heavy armor. And yeah, my favorite." She winced as cool air touched her combat undersuit and seeped to her back, where it felt raw and hot. "Find me some burn cream. Should be in… that locker there. Near the top, alphabetical according to type." Williams nodded once slowly, obviously understanding _why_ the N7 would know where to look. Not every Clinic was organized the same, but one look at the locked locker filled with controlled pharmaceuticals and another that wasn't locked had been an easy guess. As for the organization skill, Jannie knew who owned the Clinic.

Jannie took her backpiece to a nearby examination table and found a spare canister of common-grade OmniGel, the carbon nanotube programmable material able to seal up her armor, though by no means would it be combat-grade protection, even for light armor. Attaching the canister to a port on her hip, Jannie activated her Kassa Fabrication Polaris OmniTool and queued up an armor patch program, scanning her backpiece's dimensions and began spraying it with the programmable material to adhere and seal the breaches in her armor.

"Found the burn cream, Skipper." The Soldier called out as she brought out several packets, as well as a few other items in hand. "Grabbed some anti-inflammatory meds and some pain-relievers as well. Well-organized drug locker. Hers, isn't it? The Angel's?"

"Yes." That was all the N7 could trust herself to say. _GodGodGod PLEASE let Sara be okay!_ "Give me a moment to finish spraying my armor, and then you can slather my back." Jannie tried not to notice how bad her back itched and burned. Blisters at the very least. Doctor Chakwas would have better back on the _Normandy_ , as well as a full-suite nagging session on-hand. Naval Surgeons were like that. Shepard continued to spray the OmniGel over the backpiece of her Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Armor, seeing the OmniGel congeal and harden against what was still in existence, making at least a physical barrier. Cortana would be able to provide a hardware assessment and account for how much damage to the internal systems was done, but there was no fixing that out on the field. She'd have to make do for the time being. "There. Give it a minute to let the Gel adhere and fix properly."

"Alright, Navy. No courtesy dinner and a movie for this date. Lose the top like it's shore leave." Ash was smirking a little too much as her brown eyes twinkled in humor, and Jannie just snorted, unable to stop her own grin as she undid the electromagnetic bindings of her combat underarmor and slipped her arms out of the sleeves as she pulled the shoulders down to reveal her torso and Navy-issued sports bra. "Oh. Oh fuck." The tone and words from Williams said it all.

"Bad?" Jannie asked, trying not to wince. The pain was centered from her right shoulder and going down to her back. She had been hit with plasma, and some of it had either splashed onto her armor, or the heat had been bad enough to cause a molecular reaction anyhow, generally in the form of inflamed flesh and blistering.

"It's… not good." Ash replied, and the Lion turned to see the woman wincing. "Looks like one huge fucking blister, Commander, with a bunch of weeping ones surrounded by red skin. It's… probably going to permanently scar." Unlike guys, girls didn't want to be known for their scars.

"Perhaps it'll match with my bullet scars." Shepard replied dryly, knowing that Ash was doing her best to let her down gently. "Go ahead and pop the worst ones and apply the cream. Slap a couple of dry dressings on it and we'll Charlie Mike. I am _not_ exfill'ing out on a MEDEVAC."

"Understood, ma'am. Just…" A gentle hand went onto her left shoulder, and Jannie saw Ash looking at her with concern. "Don't get yourself so hurt that Sara blames herself, Commander. I know how that guilt feels, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone." Damn, Eden Prime was still heavy on Williams' mind. No surprise there. Jannie reached up with her right hand and placed it on top of Ash's on her left shoulder, wincing slightly from the pain as her skin on her back moved with the gesture. Still, it was worth it to see the Soldier's dark face lighten up slightly from the sympathy and comfort. Yeah, Jannie knew that guilt, too. From Elysium, in fact, remembering that stab of fear she felt when she realized what thirteen-year old Sara Ryder had done, jumping Citadel and going to wartorn Elysium to find her. Sara had saved her life, but she could have easily been killed or captured in her efforts. Lieutenant Alenko had a point, Goddamn it. She'd have to apologize later.

"Do what you can for my back, Ash. And… apprish." Shepard thanked the Soldier, glad that she had saved this Soldier, this sole survivor. Fierce and dedicated, Williams was a credit to the Systems Alliance Colonial Army and then some. She deserved this mission, the hunt for Saren, and this mission deserved her. Shit was tough, and yet Ash rolled with it like a true professional, a woman dedicated to cause and crew. Jannie had known many Sailors and Marines in her years of service, and she'd be hard-pressed to come up with a better example outside of Special Forces than Ashley Madeline Williams, and even including a few N's, to boot. Carrying a _Kowloon_ 's worth of grief and rage, and yet able to carry it on top of her duties and responsibilities well. Jannie winced a little as she felt a small prick into the tender flesh of her back, sucking in a little breath at the pain.

 _Hold on, Sara,_ Jannie told herself as Williams pressed her fingers onto what was likely a back-sized blister upon her back to make it weep out fluids, _I'm coming, kiddo._

 _I promise._

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the _Normandy's_ ground team was entering into the confines of Dig Site Alpha.

Commander Jane Shepard was taking point as her hoverturret Bastila floated by her side, its weapons and sensors scanning as her drone Ghost scanned the topographical dimensions of the Dig Site, attempting to access any friendly networks and computers for any correlating information that she could use as Jannie held her M-99 Saber Battle Rifle at the ready, stalking down the downward sloping tunnel that lead towards the dig site proper. She didn't know the layout of the Dig Site itself, but what little Sara had Chirped gave her an idea that the entrance tunnel lead towards a massive cavern that was the base camp for the expedition, where she would likely find the tents for the two teams there, both Serrice and Oxford University. Ryder had given her an idea what the evacuation plan was in case of attack; the civilians would be gathered and led towards a lift that would lead the civilians deeper into the Prothean Site, giving them access to another tunnel that had cavern with a 'skylight' for shuttle extraction. Either Sara and her Marines were will the civilians, or they were in a choke-point.

The ground team hadn't encountered any more Geth since the first dozen or so outside the dig site.

" _No dataware signals detected, Jane."_ Ghost spoke quietly through its modulated vocalizer, the volume kept low for reconnaissance purposes. _"Advisory, unknown if low-powered unit will be discovered by sweeper scans or data access until confirmation."_

"Noted." That was a nice way of saying Ghost didn't know if there was a Geth unit bunkered down behind a rock somewhere, only semi-active until it was time for an ambush or the Geth Gods delivered a signal. "Everyone, keep frosty. You see a toaster, bore its chest open to make sure." Hell, it wasn't like they were actually 'alive', were they? Besides, according to Niki'Raan nar Tombay and Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, the platforms were merely vehicles for the Geth, their consciousness really just being adaptable programs and software. Destroying a hardware platform didn't even kill them, just denied them a usable asset. Fuckers. "There's a lift in the back, through the main cavern and past a catwalk. Keep eyes open for any Systems Alliance personnel or civilians. Eyes and weapons up, folks." Jannie moved forward, escorted by Bastila and Ghost as her Saber swept and cleared the forward arc in front of her, her footsteps soft and sure as she moved in an isosceles stance; leg bent slightly while leaning forward from her hips and keeping her back straight to reduce recoil and instability. She flitted through the cavern, spotting the Expeditionary Camp, two different sides down the 'road' that led down the middle. Ah, no mingling; Sara had mentioned that. "Ghost, sweep the camp for organics and synthetics." The personal drone floated away as it went to the port side camp while the redhead continued down the path that bisected the camps, heading towards where she thought the catwalk would be.

" _I'm detecting no life signs, Captain."_ Tali'Zorah was somewhere in the middle of the column, having raised her Armali Council Nexus OmniTool, sending her own OmniGel-encased contragravity utility drone she called Chatika vas Paus. _"Negative replication signals detected as well. You can't look for energy output in a powered-down Geth unit, Captain. You look for computing cycles."_

"Ghost? Change and adapt perimeters for search detailing calculations and Quantum computing." Jannie told her own drone. "Thanks, Tali."

" _Huzzah."_ That almost had Shepard pause, hearing the Turian war cry coming from a Quarian vox. It was almost… comical, especially when Detective Garrus Vakarian grunted at the sound, hoisting his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle onto his shoulder, the two plus meter tall Turian scanning the area as he queued up his Cipritine Armory Nordash OmniTool and scanned as well, likely with some C-SEC-oriented program, or even a specialized one from Rapid Response Unit.

"Place smells clean." Battlemaster Urdnot Wrex called out, his unhelmeted head swiveling back and forth as his eyes moved independent to one another, covering a wide arc on both sides at the same time. The big game hunter insisted on going without a helmet, and now Jannie understood why; he used his sense of smell much like a dog did. "Nobody's been here in many hours."

"Assuming does nothing to promote a long life." Jannie replied, though she guessed it was somewhat nice to know that the Krogan could sniff stuff out like a hound. Their drones and OmniTools could be hacked or interfered with, but no Geth would be messing with an olfactory sense. What she did not was that there were several Geth bodies up ahead, hardware platforms laying in crumpled heaps. These weren't ambushers. "Got some enemy KIA ahead."

" _There are seventy-four platforms, Jane. No computing cycles detected, and each have suffered battle damage."_ Ghost informed Jannie, the drone retuning to the group from the starboard side of the camp. _"There is no recent trace of organic presence detected."_

" _The most recent I am picking up is at less than twenty-one hours."_ The RRU Sniper supplied, his Nordash OmniTool's scanner obviously keyed more towards investigations, probably to detect blood traces and DNA. Jannie was actually pretty impressed. _"My guess? Your Angel sent the message at first sight of something wrong. It would fit; the transmission was cut during the datasend."_

"She probably sent the only distress signal, and she sent it to someone she knew would do something immediately." Jannie realized what that all meant. The Marines on Therum weren't caught completely unaware, but they knew they were likely outnumbered. Sara had sent a quick message to her knowing that 'Auntie' would take care of the rest; reinforcements and rescue operations. Perhaps the emergency signal beacon that was installed had been cut off by the Geth, so Sara had tried something they hadn't expected; a low-encrypted quick Chirp on the low-bandwidth. The Geth had cut it off, but not in time. Sara had bought the Marines and the civilians at the Dig Site the only chance they would have with her quick-thinking.

"Good work, kiddo. Proud of you." Jannie whispered as she moved forward, her weapon trained on the fallen Geth as she was flanked by Urdnot Wrex and Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams, the both of them hoisting their respective light machine guns. "Move and sweep, and double-check for Blue Screen of Death." Jannie ordered as she kept her Saber in her right hand as she drew her laser-sighted Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol in her left as she moved forward, putting a round into the chest of each Geth she approached. Williams was doing the same with her ERCS M-3 Predator Combat Pistol while Wrex had his own elegant solution; he merely stomped upon the chest of each Geth he passed by, cracking the chassis with his size fifty-four boot, much to Jannie's amusement. Damn that looked cathartic.

" _I could have just fried them, you know."_ Tali'Zorah offered over the SquadCom, suggesting her Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun.

"We can afford the ammo blocks, Zorah, but Power Cells are in finite supply." Shepard reminded the Quarian, who nodded her purple-adorned helmet in understanding. The Reegar, and Niki'Raan's Adas, were rather frightening weapons to behold, and would be more useful when they found numerous live Geth, not putting down zero-signal platforms. "Remind me to get you physical munitions weapons as well as extra Power Cell carrying cases for deployments." Hell of a way to have a learning curve, but Poppa Bear always said that every battle had a lesson to be learned. Jannie wasn't pleased that they had to hit the ground running, but so far she was pretty damn impressed with her eclectic, cobbled-together crew of multi-species origins. When the finished up with Therum and healed up, she'd have to get some ground-time to mesh them together to be even more effective, but right now she had the goods. That was half the battle. "The lift should be up ahead. Look for any signs of deployment, defenses, or… or bodies." Seventy-four platforms had been taken down in a group, most of them having been shot, but there were a few that looked battered instead of pierced by bullets.

Biotics. Sara had been here.

"Let's move, people." Jannie tried not to wince visibly as she shoulder her Saber, her back stinging from the earlier injury that was currently medicated and dressed, but it still stung like a son of a bitch. Thankfully, Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams knew her trade well. The Colonial Army hadn't skimped on its Soldiers, thankfully. "Keep those drones tight. They'll probably be the first thing the Geth hack." Tali'Zorah and Agent Zevin Raeka both had drones out, the Quarians' a fully-functional utility drone that provided some sort of electrical discharge for defensive purposes, while the Salarian Agents' was an OmniGel-crafted reconnaissance drone with a suicide protocol for exploitation. Damn, that shit was scary. Jannie wanted one. Ghost and Bastila might get jealous. Well, as jealous as programs _could_ get.

They left the main cavern and found three tunnels leading 'south', but thankfully Jannie was able to see a catwalk that spanned over a chasm, connecting to a rock face and traveling along its length. The N7 saw more Geth bodies at the entrance to the tunnel; a choke point. The first seventy-four bodies had been taken down by Marines holding the choke point, using the narrow passage to give them maximum coverage, likely having four firers at a time. Then when the opposition got too great, they abandoned the position and used the narrow entrance as a killzone, using the entrance as a fatal funnel to take out what appeared to be another four dozen Geth units. There were more platforms decorating the path and catwalk ahead, another two dozen or so. Someone had fought and fought hard to slow the Geth down and ensure maximum casualties on the enemy's part.

They hadn't run into one friendly casualty yet in the interior of the Dig Site yet. That was good.

Jannie stalked down the catwalk with tactical efficiency, her Saber scanning as Ghost obediently hovered over her left shoulder, Bastila attached to her backplate for the time being. The rest of the team trailed her in a singular column, their weapons of choice in their hands and whatever toys they wished ready dish out in case they encountered the Geth. The catwalk was longer than Shepard suspected, bending with the rockface it was attached to, but it led past a chasm in which a lift was connected to the end of it, likely either the shortest distance or the safest route one could take to the bottom of the Prothean ruin. More Geth platforms were upon the corrugated alumnisteel grating of the catwalk as Jannie approached the lift, seeing a physical mechanism that would take them up and down.

"Pilgrims? Double-check that elevator and make sure that the Geth haven't fucked with it." The Commander ordered, knowing that would be exactly what she would have done. Both Tali'Zorah and Niki'Raan moved towards the alumnisteel conveyance as the rest of the ground team pulled security. Jannie was a little bothered by the fact that the Geth hadn't left more units at checkpoints or to pull rear-watch, especially after destroying the entrance guards and that Armature of theirs. The loss of the walking tank platform should have roused the troops… unless the mission was more important, and within reach. "When we reach the bottom," Jannie looked to her team, "we'll need to double-time it."

" _You think that the Geth are too close to their objective to pull units away to stall us."_ Detective Garrus Vakarian realized, and honestly Shepard shouldn't have been surprised that a veteran cop would get it. He probably saw similar to this with criminals on the Cit.

"That would be about the only time I would risk it; when the prize was almost at hand." The N7 replied, Sergeant Williams nodding in agreement. "Check sectors of fire, but we push through." They had done something similar on Eden Prime, foregoing other possible objectives and potential rescues to recover the derelict Prothean Beacon that had been in the Constant Spaceport. Jannie knew that Ash didn't take it well knowing they could have been saving lives instead of collecting a fifty-thousand year old relic, but she had been a Soldier long enough to know that denying the enemy the win might have been more vital. When the Beacon's security field had activated when Williams had gotten too close, Jannie had recklessly grabbed the Colonial Army Soldier and pulled her out, taking her place. The N7 hadn't wanted to lose the last remaining member of the Eden Prime Colonial Army 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry after all they had been through. Ash blamed herself for the loss of the Beacon. Jannie blamed Saren and the Geth.

" _Elevator is clean, Captain."_ Tali piped up, the Quarian Engineer giving a nod of her purple-tinted helmet and headscarf, what she called a _reilk_.

" _No explosive components detected."_ Niki added, the Quarian Marine-hopeful nodding her blue-tinted helmet and headscarf in the same fashion.

"Good. Let's hope it still works now."

* * *

 _Me and my big fucking mouth. 'Gee, I hope this deathtrap still works'. Famous last words, anyone?_

The elevator got stuck about ten meters above the bottom of the chasm in which the _Normandy_ Ground Team was riding down to, and Commander Jane Shepard wasn't amused. At all.

"I got this." The Krogan Battlemaster spoke up as everyone shifted to let the big game hunter Urdnot Wrex towards the conveyance door as the one ton Krogan leapt out with a hearty laugh, falling to the distant ground with a loud thud, landing on both feet rather gracefully, Jannie noted. The Krogan unlimbered his Cipritine Armory Phaeston Heavy Automatic Rifle, scanning the chasm floor with those creepy independently-moving eyes of his, no doubt, as he gave the air a test with his nose, sniffing it out. "Clear. Come down, and I'll catch you."

"It's a three-story drop, Wrex." Shepard reminded the Krogan below them.

"I'll catch you squishy mortals, no worries." The smug tone of amusement was enough to send Jannie's teeth grinding as she chanced it, taking a step off the platform and falling, falling, falling until she felt… lighter? The Krogan indeed caught her one-handed, smirking toothily as he set her down in a gentlemanly fashion. "See?"

"Biotics. You used Biotics to slow me down." The N7 realized. She had noticed him using them only once before, but then again only the Asari seemed to have some physical cue when they engaged their Biokinetic force, turning more bluish. Neither Scott nor Sara seemed to have ever conjured some blue corona around themselves whenever they used their own Biotics, and Jannie had seen Scott use his Biotics quite a great deal playing for the Presidium Predators for the Amateurs BiotiBall League back on the Cit, 'Aunt Jannie' vidcording all of Scottie's games and watching them.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you." The Krogan replied in a grumpy voice as he looked up at the remaining ground team members. "Might make the Turian squeal, though. That's always good for a laugh."

"Only if you wish to piss off the sniper with the really powerful gun." Jannie replied as she shouldered her M-99 Saber, making Wrex grunt. "Let's get them down so we can crush some cans." She was trying not to sound too impatient, but when she looked down the route the chasm would lead them to, another cavern, her heart skipped a beat as she thought of Sara. _God, kiddo, why couldn't you have stayed a Cit paramedic?_ That had been a civil argument a few years back when little Sara Ryder told her Auntie what she wanted to do next with her life. Sara had a full-ride scholarship to no less than four different medical-oriented Universities, to include the Citadel University and John Hopkins on Earth! Instead, Sara wanted to be a _grunt_. A medic grunt, true, but a grunt. Six years at the finest fucking school on the Citadel (and likely the Goddamn galaxy) as the only Human Being to have ever passed the rigorous academic admissions examination.

The Presidium Academy of Education was one of the most venerated educational institutions in the galaxy, and anyone who was anyone sought to have their kids go there. As Jannie understood it (from Sara, no less), the past three Turian Primarchs had attended, more than half of the current Quorum of Dalatrasses that essentially ran the Salarian Union, a good many influential Matriarchs donated heavily into the institution, and something like the past thirty or so galactic Councilors had attended the prestigious Academy. Its alumni included mega corporation leaders, cluster-spanning politicians, media moguls, decorated military heroes, acclaimed artists, and influential activists. Sara graduated near the top of her peerage, not only earning high grades in her educational requirements, but also in the competition-styled peerage against her contemporaries at the Academy.

And then she went and became a _grunt_.

Jannie pulled local security as Wrex helped the rest of the ground team to the bottom of the chasm, even Detective Garrus Vakarian (after threatening to drop him with a 'har har har' while assisting him downward). It made the N7 miss the jump packs that N's generally had on-hand during SpecOps missions, contragravity microthrusters that would help boost jumping, landings, and moving faster upon the battlefield. Honestly, she should requisition some for the whole team. It just seemed silly to do without. Ground team secured and on the same level, the Commander moved forward at a fast pace in the isometric stance drilled into her since the Military Academy, her M-99 Saber at the ready as Ghost scanned ahead of them for any threat or note-worthy intelligence.

" _Captain? I'm picking up data spikes."_ Tali'Zorah chimed up, her vox being kept low for noise discipline. _"Minor strength. Battle formations, I think. Range is about fifty meters."_

"Ground team, prepare for assault." Jannie detached Bastila from her back, the hoverturret floating above the ground as it activated its weapon systems. "Ghost? Go passive and scout ahead for enemy positions and fortifications. Everyone? Bring the pain and set lasers for fun." She pulled out from her Modular Package on her left thigh her Smart Attenuated Combat Optic Group Scope, a software-driven targeting system that could correct deviations of minute-of-angle upon an identified target… regardless of their position. The next thing she did was lock back the heat dispersal bolt and pulled off the upper receiver cover to expose the internal mechanism of her M-99 Saber as she pulled out the Shaver mechanism for a custom-crafted shaver that she herself had made, made to shape a round into different aerodynamic shapes for better predictable flight. Inserting the custom shaver, Jannie reinstalled the receiver and attached the SACOG on her Saber, smiling as she installed what she called her Operative Package. Her prior N Team had a different name for the hand-crafted SACOG Scope and custom-made ammo block shaver combination that Jannie had built herself.

Jannie double-checked that everyone was armed and ready as she watched her helmets' ARO display populating with wireframe figures to represent the Geth, the N7 being able to 'see' them through walls. There were red wireframes that looked to be lying on he ground; 'deceased' Geth platforms. The blue ones were active, and Ghost populated the number totaled at a hundred-and-fifteen. Holy shit that was a lot of Geth.

"Cortana? Link and populate ARO diagram to friendly users." Jannie told her armor's VI, the digital female figure set at the bottom left of her sight nodding in compliance. "This is going to get messy, so I'm leading off until the Geth figure out what we're doing. Tali, keep eyes on the data spikes and tell me when they adapt. Stay put right here until I give the order." Jannie lifted her rifle and began speaking tag numbers representing the blue wireframe Geth representations to Cortana, who tight-beamed the information to Ghost.

" _How are you going to hit them from here? They're behind a wall and around a corner."_ Detective Garrus Vakarian asked, sounding mystified.

"I can curve a fucking _bullet_." Jannie smiled as she began to fire.

Eight rounds were fired in quick succession as Commander Jane Shepard pulled the trigger of her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, firing at an apparently empty space in front of her with no targets. Each round was extracted from the ammo block of the rifle, normally just a pre-determined packet of NiFe MuMetal that was calibrated to the target based upon auto-targeting software, the weapons' on-board software management suite, and environmental conditions. Too small a round, too light, or not fast enough, and it would be useless. Too large, too heavy, or too fast, and it might not even cause enough damage. There was a complete set of highly-evolved mathematics involved in modern-day weaponry, to make an efficient weapon that could handle as many scenarios and situations as possible, to achieve maximum amount of damage with as little collateral as possible, and to prevent hull breeches or isolation chamber breeches for safety purposes. All of this data was collected, cataloged, and collated in a weapons' management software suite to 'shave' the perfect round for the target; maximum efficiency.

But a bullet could only go straight… unless someone went and cheated.

The custom-made ammo block shaver that Jannie had created had come as an idea to her after watching some old Earth action flick called 'WANTED'. The movie, while lame, had an exotic concept in which assassins could 'curve' bullets by retardedly swinging their arms while firing a pistol to project a flight arc in which a bullet sailed in a semi-circular fashion to strike perfectly at a target behind objects, walls… whatever. While that was impossible, it was _theoretically_ possible to make an object curve if said object were designed to be aerodynamically appropriate for such flight. That was principle of heavier-than-air flight, actually.

So Jannie went an invented an ammo shaver that created exotic shapes; bullet planes, as it were.

Each round, tagged by her Saber, linked with Cortana and Ghost, minifactured each bullet based upon the projected arc of travel that went _around_ a rock wall, executing a starboard curve to strike upon a target. Each round was uniquely-shaped depending upon the individual's position, distance, degree, and azimuth, microgrades of indentions, fins, and aerodynamic sweeps ingrained into each round to fly upon the mathematically-projected path. She still had to aim, of course, and the SACOG was what she had to create in order to do so, detailing an ARO digital pathway in which she would have to aim her weapon to fire upon what was essentially empty space in her eye, but the perfectly-projected flight path for each round. Jannie aimed at eight red dots with her SACOG sights, and fired eight times in rapid succession before locking back her heat dispersal bolt.

Eight rounds shot forth from her Saber, and they began to _curve_.

Each round flew forth at subluminal speeds, each calculated to reach the target at a set perimeter determined by the modulation of the round, the distance, the environmental conditions, and the conditions of the enemy. The rounds were extracted from a block of Nickle-Iron, each sized appropriate for maximum effectiveness against defenses and to cause damage. All of this was managed by the on-board software management suite on her M-99 Saber, like it was with any other modern firearm. Any weapon whose suite had been damaged or sabotage simply had a hunk of ceramic and plastics. Yet for her Operative Package, the custom-made shaver also included indentions, grooves, stabilizing fins, and spiraling twists to aid the rounds' flight to the target. Each was a marvel of aerodynamic propulsion, curving along a calculated arc of travel by means of shape and projected energy as the round traveled around the radius that had them head down the chasm, curving around the corner in a perfectly circular forty-five degree curve, and flying right towards their designated targets.

Within four seconds, four Geth units dropped due to permanent malfunctions from an unknown, unobserved shooter.

The N7 locked her heat dispersal bolt forward as she fired eight more times, the calculations having already been performed by Ghost upon four more Geth targets as Jannie took down the next set of observed wireframe individuals she could see through her ARO displaying on the inner curve of her helmets' visor, aiming at the projected reticles that defined the proper aiming point for her Saber, while the rounds themselves traveled in lateral arc towards their targets, and Jannie locked back her bolt as four more wireframe units went from blue to red, from standing to on the ground. That was eight.

" _GawDAMN."_ Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams breathed out, her helmet's vox putting it out, and Jannie's' picking it up. _"I want one."_

" _So do I."_ Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka added, her tone almost dreamy.

" _I get first dibs."_ Detective Garrus Vakarian insisted, and it didn't sound like anyone was going to argue with the RRU Sniper.

"Make your own. Like I did." Jannie replied as she locked her bolt forward, Ghost and Cortana having already done the calculations for the next four Geth units closest, but the reticles were becoming more spaced apart, more erratic. That was the downfall to the Operative Package; it really only worked on static enemies, which was why she didn't use it all the time. Against a moving enemy, the tracing curve would either miss, or calculations would never keep up. Likewise, a dispersed enemy would be out of a cone of acceptance, the projective curves unable to target. The amount of a curve was projected only between thirty-two and a half degrees to forty-seven and a half degrees in a minute-of-angle corresponding with distance. It could do minor curves between zero and fifteen degrees, but every 'shift' in the protracted angle needed verification of calculations, and the custom-made shaver couldn't make a shallow curve round and a full curve on top of it, swapping back and forth. Her design, while amazing, had its limitations. Well, it served its purpose of hitting an enemy without exposing oneself in a variety of situations. Eight more shots were fired as three more Geth units were struck, the M-99 Saber rounds impacting against the kinetic-dampening shields before the second round went through and pierced metal chassis to 'kill' the platform.

The fourth unit, illuminated by wireframe, juked out of the way.

" _Captain!"_ Zorah shouted out in warning. _Adaptation_.

"Advance!" The N7 shouted as she moved forward, her team moving right behind her into a line, rounding the corner that lead into a cavern where the route presented a basin of earth and dirt, littered with Geth. Her team moved to either side of her in a line, standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they took a position of assault, weapons discharging as one. The noise of so many weapons going off at the same time inside the cavern was deafening as a N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, a M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, a Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle,a Milkor SuperSix MPML, a M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, a M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, an Adas ESD Rifle, and a Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun fired with full prejudice, added to by the several different drones and their unique munitions programs as the _Normandy_ Ground Team engaged the Geth. Dozens and dozens of rounds were expended in the first fifteen seconds of the assault as Geth Trooper Units wilted under the devastating fire, units barely lasting seconds against such munitions as rounds, explosives, and electrostatic discharge ripped through the clustered ranks of synthetic foes, bringing low hardware platforms. Whatever the Geth had been up to, her ground team had interrupted as one half of the remaining Geth were orienting to face the Normandiers as the other half were continuing with their original objective.

The Geth were fighting someone _else_.

Jannie continued firing her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, locking the heat dispensing bolt back and transitioning to her M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol as her Hurricane cooled down, the enemy thick enough that only moderate aiming was necessary as she engaged a heavier platform with the powerful handgun, using the infrared laser sight to deliver accurate rounds quickly. She took down the heavier unit that they called Destroyers in five shots, ratcheting the heat sink slide back on her Phalanx before locking it back into place to put rounds into a Shock Trooper armed with a Geth-styled shotgun that fired some sort of energy pulse charge that fizzled shields.

" _An Alpha Prime Unit!"_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay called out, and Jannie's ARO updated with the sight of a Geth unit that was heads and shoulders taller than all the other units. She had faced one on Eden Prime, and it had been a mean mother to bring down. _"It's the command and control unit! Bring it down, and the rest won't get updates or commands!"_

"I got this." The big game hunter called out as the Krogan known as Urdnot Wrex lowered his bony headplate and charged forward, battering aside smaller units with his arms and his head, seemingly unperturbed that he was rushing straight into a three-sided firefight as he reached the gigantic hardware platform. Wrex gave off a bestial roar as his hand clutched at the unit, grabbing it by the neck support and the hip actuator, lifting it up over his head before the half-tonne Krogan brought it down onto his knee, cracking it in half. Wrex let the unit drop to the ground as it tried to move away from the big game hunter, trailing useless legs as the Krogan pulled out his Korogish Graal Hunting Shotgun and put a high-velocity round through its chest. And then its head.

The Geth froze in place.

"Take the advantage!" Jannie hollered out as she pulled out her M-99 Saber Battle Rifle with the Operative Package still attached as Ghost began compiling targets and tagging them to Cortana, who then collated it to the rifle. The Operative Package wasn't the best choice in a stand-up firefight, but with the enemy right in front of her and seemingly stunned? It would be a turkey shoot. The Lion of Elysium fired her rifle as quick as she could pull the trigger, sending eight aerodynamically-shaped rounds to eight separate targets as Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko began firing wide-angle blast grenades from his Milkor MPML while Staff Sergeant Williams sprayed Reverent fire in wide arcs. Tali'Zorah's Reegar Carbine was devastating, arcs of ionization lacing towards a dozen units, turning the area into a web of electrical fury while Niki'Raan attached some OmniChip to a Universal Power Cell and hurled it as far as she could in the middle of the Geth position, the Power Cell detonating catastrophically, taking out three Destroyers and one coined a Juggernaut, along with half a dozen smaller ones. Detective Garrus Vakarian had switched to his M-98 Widow, operating the powerful sniper rifle with quick precision, each shot lethal while Agent Zevin Raeka programmed something into her OmniTool and raised it, a dozen microrockets flying out to burst at random targets.

"Ghost! Give me something to hack!" Jannie called out as Bastila continued to lace the area with machine gun fire as Jannie sent another volley of curving bullets into targets, bringing down ones with weakened shields. Wrex was still in the middle of the fray, having picked up a Hunter model and using it as a club, swatting Geth units left and right. Well… whatever worked.

" _Geth explosive packages are unprotected, Jane."_

"Brute Attack DDoS, Ghost! Detonate!" The N7 called out as she looked to the Krogan in the middle of battle. "Wrex! Frag out, big time!"

Everything in front of them blew up. Magnificently.

Jannie hit the deck as shrapnel and Geth pieces pattered everything in the cavern like steel rain, a readout of her shields indicating that a few pieces were deadened by her kinetic shields dropping enough to warrant dropping to the ground and making herself as small a target as possible. Everyone else beside her had likewise done the same as dozens of explosions went off simultaneously, like a detonate-in-place or a cook-off. Plumbs of smoke and dust choked the area as Jannie lifted her head up before getting onto a knee and raising her Saber at the ready to scan for survivors.

It looked like every Geth was carrying a grenade… and every grenade went off.

" _Damn, Skipper."_ Sergeant Williams whistled appreciatively, the Colonial Soldier getting up on her feet along with the others. _"You really know how to throw a barbecue, don't you?"_ The cavern floor was littered with the pieces of Geth units, most of them blasted in half from where their grenades were stored at their waists, and more than a few had fallen victim to multiple simultaneous explosions, not much left save for the chest chassis and sheered metal limbs.

"When I throw a party, I throw a party." Jannie quipped back as she stalked forward, looking for survivors. "Wrex, you okay?"

"Nothing a few bottles of Ryncol won't cure." The Krogan replied, having moved just enough out of the wide blast radius to still be standing, though there was some obvious light scorching to his armor as he casually wiped off a few pieces of Geth off of his armor, without concern at all. "Besides, that was an impressive fight. Great finale, too." Great, she had the Krogan's seal of approval, evidently.

"Eyes up and open. We weren't the only ones the Geth were fighting." Shepard had seen the Geth firing further down into the cavern, where a tunnel exited towards another direction. In front of the tunnel was some pre-fabricated defensive barriers, small equipment containers, and a few pieces of construction equipment built into a semi-circle around the entrance; an obvious defensive position. There had to be dozens if not hundreds of Geth platforms that hadn't been active when her ground team arrived, a good many of them meters from the position, enough to where they made a small hill. Someone had fought back, and fought back _hard_.

"Gunny? That you?" A voice called out.

A feminine voice.

A _familiar_ voice.

"Sara!" Jannie called out after she disengaged her helmet, a broad smile growing on her lips as she moved forward, mag-locking her M-99 Saber to her chest as she saw from behind what appeared to be a laser drill someone stand in Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Armor, a medical variant of it where the chestpiece strongly suggested that the owner was in fact a woman. The helmet came off, and for the first time in just over two years, Commander Jane Shepard saw a face she had been hoping to see once more, alive and well.

Sara Elaine Ryder.

"Auntie!" The Angel wasted no time stepping around the laser drill as that youthful face broke out into a grin as she ran right into the Lion, colliding into the redhead as their arms embraced one another fiercely, Sara choking off an escaped sob as she held onto Jannie in a near death grip, drawing a ragged breath as Jannie held her close, feeling her tremble even through her armor. _God? THANK YOU,_ the N7 thought to herself as she held the Angel of Illyeria, the Lion of Elysium feeling that fear recede. Sara was still alive. Thank God she was still alive. "You came! I… I didn't know if my message…"

"Shhh, it's okay, Sara. You did well." Jannie saw eleven figures slowly creeping out from the defensive position that Sara had been holding; six Marines, three armed Turians, and two Asari. Their faces were clearly surprised from the heavy intervention on their behalf, but no one was about to argue over it. For the moment, everything was well. After seven long years of owing a personal debt Jannie never thought she would ever get a chance to repay, she had come to Sara's aid. Jannie didn't give a fuck _how_ many Geth she would have to plow through to get off this hellhole.

This time, the Lion would save the Angel.

* * *

Author's Note: Awww, a happy chapter ending! But we're not off of Therum yet.

Scott Michael Ryder - Like Sara, Scott is getting an update. BiotiBall is something like volleyball, basketball, and Biotics, according to Cerberus Daily News wikia. Scott was the only human on his team, much like Sara was the only human on her Skybulance when she was with the CitEMS. This is the first real mention of Scott that I've had save for Sara's letter to him back in Chapter 1 and the picture in Chapter 4.

1.21 gigaWatts - So totally stole this from 'Back To The Future'. Great Scott!

Biotic Blue Corona - Really, that was just a physical cue for the game for the player to know awesomeness was being used. Since most energy isn't apparent on the visible spectrum, Biotics don't 'glow' when using their Biokinetic force. There will be an apparent mirage, but that's it.

For the Alumni of the Presidium Academy, I simply looked up the Times 100 and took at look at the jobs they held.

WANTED - Yes, I stole the bullet curve out of the movie. Physically, all bullets curve downward from gravity, and have a minute-of-angle due to aerodynamics and the nose-shape of the round. Theoretically, one could make a custom round with a certain shape for a 'predictable' flight path that might not be linear (you can do this with an arrow), but the barrel grooves and spin might be an issue. Low-velocity rounds (such as black powder) can curve laterally and diagonally, but those were spherical rounds and they weren't predictable. Swinging your arm in an arc and firing a gun has a term; stupidity. So I created the implausible scenario of perfect-world conditions with a math-heavy smart scope (a 'Smart' ACOG) with a shaver that can shape a round to curve in the arc needed. So, bullet curve. Because hey, in 2183, we probably will have some freaky shit. WHERE'S MY GODDAMN HOVERBOARD!

Told you Jannie likes her toys.

SACOG - I used this in A Fox Amongst The Wolves, but it got no playtime. Basically a Smart ACOG (a real-life 3x combat scope for the M4 mounted on Pictinney Rails) with digital displays and software, I actually borrowed and credited it from NickBana1989's Tech-Heavy MExGITS story Ascendance. So… here it goes again. SACOG, NickBana, GITS: Ascendance, read.

I delve a little into Mass Effect weaponry; all weapons have software drivers (hopefully without updating drivers, subscriptions, or renewal fees. Wouldn't that be a bitch?) that calculate the size of the round, the speed, the kinetic force, and the impact. Guns do not go off blindly, though they will fire if you pull the trigger. If you fire at, say, a hull, the round will be limited so as not to cause damage. Likewise, firing at an enemy will maximize casualty efficiency, not necessarily a fatality (and the Codex actually supported this in the first game). I know I went off the reservation in the Peacemaker Series with caliber weapons firing in the grams, and I had fun with that. This will be a little closer to canon, but I can 'change' it due to targeting perimeters. Because Garrus is carrying a mammoth of a sniper rifle, and who wants to hear that it fires little flecks of metal?

Zevin Raeka has a power I stole from _Dragon Age: Inquisition_ ; the Energy Barrage/Seeker Swarm ability that Jondum Bau also used in Where The Law Stands TallARC III: _Libera Nos A Malo, VIII._ Basically, an OmniTool flash-forges a dozen golfball-sized OmniGel shells filled with chemicals for propulsion and explosives. Magic Missile, anyone?

Brute Force Attack (hacking) - A complete and forceful invasion of a computer's system. Usually 'hacking' by getting a password by systematically eliminating all possible passwords. 'Password Generators', 'Dictionary Finders', and 'Alphabet Readers' are all Brute Force Attack Programs IRL. Yes, people don't magically just 'hack' shit in my stories. Actual hacking occurs.

Distributed Denial of Service (DDoS) hacking - A 'Denial of Service' is an attack in which a system is clogged with requests meant to slow down or shutdown a processor with data or requests of data with a singular computer. This type of attack can wreck websites and servers. A Distributed Denial of Service is when multiple computers are used, making it faster and the attack more effective. It sadly works _very_ well, and is popular with hacktivists today.

I know that Hollywood loves to show explosions with great fireballs and whatnot, but grenades do not really produce fire. Generally, you will see a cloud of smoke, dust, dirt, and burnt material in the area, like a puffball of destruction, not a mini-mushroom cloud or a ball of rolling fire. Now something can be _set_ on fire, and the fire can be pushed around and out, but a grenade itself is a massive overpressure effect with the addition of shrapnel to maximize casualties. Yes, there is a quick burst of flame, but that isn't usually seen since it's over quite quickly.

Wrex clubbing everything to death? +2 Renegade. +2 Krogan.


	9. Fall Of The House Of Therum, IV

_Contact your local Alliance recruiter to find out more about our exciting careers!_

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 15, 2183**

Author's Note (4/11): Happy Birthday, Shepard! You're now... 10?

* * *

"So… where are my Marines?"

 _Fuck._

Commander Jane Catherine Shepard stood in front of Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder, seeing her for the first time in over two years. The last time Jannie had seen her outside of a selfie or a still was when Sara had graduated from the prestigious Presidium Academy of Education, taking a short leave to the Cit to watch her friend walk the aisle, so to speak. Aunt Ellen had been all but at death's doorstep, but Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder held on long enough not only to see her twin children graduate from their respective schools, but also to see them pass Boot Camp as well. Jannie remembered that day well, seeing Sara in her Academy educational robes, receiving her diploma from one of the most prestigious schools in the _entire_ galaxy, the only Human good enough to attend.

That required dedication. Sara Ryder was quite possibly the most dedicated person Jane Shepard had ever met.

And this dedicated Hospital Corpsman with a Fleet Marine Force Insignia was asking where _her Marines_ were. _My Marines…_ she had said. Jannie had served with combat Corpsmen, ones with the FMF Badge, and she knew their motto, their duty, their dedication. A unit didn't get a Doc; Doc received a unit. The men and women under an HM 8404 were theirs and no one else's'. Doc would fight for you, right by your side. Doc would run through fire and bullets to reach you in your time of need, to pull you into safety, to heal your wounds. Doc would kill the motherfucker responsible, too. Jannie had seen Docs of all shapes and sizes, Sailors and N's, but they all had the same mentality; selfless dedication to their peers. In that, they were all giants. Doc's duty was to the safety and lives of their men, and they would gutter-stomp the shit out of anyone that endangered those beloved members.

And Jannie was about to tell her friend the horrible truth.

"Sara…" Jannie saw it, the look in Sara's face, those magnificent blue eyes recoil in shock, her face falling as the blow came. _How I wish I could lie to you…_

"H-how many?" The Petty Officer gulped visibly as Shepard saw the six other Marines standing not even a couple of meters away, their faces indicating that they had overheard. She was about to tell them the news. Sara was steeling herself for it, but there was nothing that could really prepare one for this for the first time. Losing men _hurt_ , Jannie knew all too well. She had lost men under her command. It never got easier. Never.

"All of them."

Sara's face fell.

"N-no! A-all of them?" Blue eyes shrank as they grew moist, tears threatening to spill over the lids as the Corpsman took the blow, _hard_. Jannie felt her heart twist at the sight as Sara snapped her eyes shut, aborting the grief for the time being. There was a lull, but they were out of danger. Ryder willed to feel the loss later, but not now. Doc still had men to look after, and a Petty Officer had Enlisted Members to command. Two years… Sara had grown up, she had matured. She had grown harder, no longer the petite, spunky little teenager whose mouth was a kilometer-a-minute. Now stood before the Commander was a Fleet Marine Corpsman and Non-Commissioned Officer in the depths of hellish battle, strong and proud, ignoring all else until necessary. This Corpsman had kept her Marines alive for damn near a Solar day, with tactics and medical knowledge. But there was always a price, every Goddamn time.

Sara's eyes opened once more, and the tears were gone, replaced with absolute conviction and _vengeance_. Jannie knew that look well; Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams had those same eyes on Eden Prime and anytime anyone brought up the Geth or Saren. Ryder made a fist with her right hand, holding it in front of her, crushing the fist tighter and tighter until her armor creaked from the intensity. The Angel took a deep breath and let it out malevolently as she released her fist and looked at Jannie. The Angel of Illyeria was no longer a cherubic-faced teenaged girl brimming with insatiable curiosity. No, she was now battle-hardened, tested and proven, and _very_ eager to to met out revenge on the Geth.

Jannie almost felt sorry for them. _Almost_.

"Collect your men, see to your wounds." Shepard said softly, looking at Sara's face, seeing her jaw tightening, her face cast in stone. The redhead noted the battle damage to Sara's Phoenix Armor, the scores and pits of rounds finding their mark when kinetic shields were overwhelmed, or when a round was too strong to be stopped by that protective barrier. Hell, Sara was a Biotic, too, capable of creating an extra layer of protection with her born abilities, taught to her at the Presidium Academy by Asari Instructors that were former Sister Commandos, no less! Men had been in danger, and Doc had risked life and limb for them. "Restock and get ready to move in five, we're getting you the fuck off this shithole."

"Okay." Sara took a deep breath, getting control of her emotions as she looked to Jannie. "We're damn near bingo on Cells and Blocks, and we ran out of grenades forever ago. All we got in ready supply is foul language." There was an almost half-smirk to the Petty Officers' face. Jannie looked over to see two Asari standing near the Marines and the armed Turians, one Asari with a mess of yellow markings on her face armed with an Asari-manufactured submachine gun she didn't recognize, and another with hardly any markings at all carrying a rather common Teguza Elite Thexder Pistol in her hands. The three Turians were armed with Haliat Armory KAL-25 Personal Defense Weapons that every Turian Citizen not in the military seemed to be armed with, a carbine weapon that was somewhere between a submachine gun and an assault rifle. It was a good if underpowered weapon to have. _"Centurion?_ Let's get integrated. If anyone's got a hurt, speak up now. Once we start moving, we may not have the time to stop to attend to it later."

"Reservists?" The N7 asked, getting a nod from the Corpsman. "Well, that's good." It was certainly a better thing than some Human with no training or experience holding a firearm during a stressful situation. Those usually got killed quickly or endangered friendly forces with bullshit they'd seen in movies and video games. "There were civilians here. What happened to them?"

"Evacuated with the help of _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus and his men here," Ryder indicated the Turians, who all nodded with the recognition, "as well as that of Professor T'vara and Doctor T'soni here." Jannie found herself looking at the Asari with the almost complete absence of facial markings standing there _._ Shit, all three of her objectives were standing right in front of her! Well, that was good. No use looking a gift firearm down the barrel. "The Citadel Department of Prothean Knowledge had sent a small team here yesterday after the incident with Doctor Sanders to investigate, and that was nine more warm bodies to fit in the shuttles that we already didn't have space for. Linaseus and his men volunteered to take rear-guard to give room for the Citadel Personnel, as well as Professor T'vara. Doctor T'soni here actually stumbled upon a security device that she was able to somewhat configure to our advantage, and stayed behind to help us combat the Geth. Everyone else has left at one hundred percent accountability save those who are here."

"Good." That meant the Geth hadn't killed them and converted them to Husks. Lord only knew what non-Human Husks would be like. Turians came with talons, and Asari had Biotics. Thankfully, they wouldn't be finding out today. That was one less problem to worry about. "Let's do a quick roll call while everyone checks their equipment out so we're not having to play the 'hey you' game."

"Okay, for my Marines," Sara began, indicating her team of scuffed and sweaty Marines, "we've got K-Pop, Ballsack, Lapdance, Blowjob, Brassiere, and the Kenyan." Jannie had to chuckle at the names; she had almost forgotten that Marines called everyone and everything something demeaning. Cortana already updated her ARO display with the names, highlighting each Private and Lance Corporal identified. "For the Reservists," the three Turians were equally as scuffed and grimy as the Marines, "we got _Centurion_ Linaseus, as well as _Hasti_ Korvan and Raminion. Then we have Doctor T'soni and Professor T'vara." Both Asari lowered their heads in greeting.

"For my team," Jannie began, "we got Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams from the Eden Prime Colonial Army," both Humans nodded their heads. "The big guy's Urdnot Wrex. The purple Quarian is Tali'Zorah, and the blue one is Niki'Raan. The Salarian Agent is Not-Dalatrass Zevin Raeka. And then there's Detective…"

"Holy shit! Garrus Vakarian!" That had Jannie pause.

"It is good to see you again, little one." The two-plus meter tall Turian said out loud as Vakarian took a step forward, having disengaged his helmet along with the others when Shepard had done so when reconnecting with her friend. One mandible quirked some facial expression, something probably resembling a crooked smile for Turians. She was never as good as identifying alien non-verbal cues as Sara and Scott had been. "When the Commander said the name 'Sara Ryder', I had wondered if it was the same Sara Ryder I knew from the CitEMS."

"You two know each other?" Sergeant Williams asked, frowning a little, her tone curious. Ash wasn't exactly keen on non-Humans, but she had done well working alongside them.

"There was this case that Special Crimes was looking into in a hard way, and I got involved as a consultant because there weren't really too many Human Doctors on the Cit, especially ones who would keep their mouths shut about what we were finding." Sara replied, and Jannie remembered something about that. Ryder had been tight-lipped about a week and a half portion of her duties involving her being called in by the Special Crimes Unit investigating something called a 'Red Harvest' when she was about almost seventeen. All Jannie had known was that Sara had been asked _by name_ by the C-SEC SCU and the RRU for her medical expertise. Obviously, Sara and Garrus had met then. "I can't believe you managed to rope in Detective Garrus fucking Vakarian, Auntie! You know he's the premiere shot in the RRU? Once shot a terrorist from _across_ the Cit! That's from one Arm to another, had to account for traffic. Ten point two kilometers, if I remember correctly. " The Detective grunted, but made no correction.

"Damn." Williams was impressed. Jannie was, too. A ten kilometer _confirmed_ kill? That was beyond impressive! Sure, the Cit was probably the 'best' environment for a long-distance shot, considering that gravity and air pressure were limited to only a dozen or so meters above the tallest buildings, without wind or weather to change trajectories. Still, one could easily miss at that distance. _Through_ traffic? Damn, indeed.

"Okay, folks, let's get back on the clock." They were wasting time, and the Geth were better at using it efficiently than most. "Marines? I'm putting you under the command of Staff Sergeant Williams. She's a survivor and a veteran of Eden Prime, so she will be your Commanding Officer for the duration of this mission." The six Marine Enlisted nodded their heads, the move not unusual. Likewise, Sergeant Williams was also nodding. Putting men under her command was a good move, as well as putting Geth War survivors together. "Doc? I need you to do your job; keep us healthy."

Corpsmen weren't 'leaders' despite having ranks that would make them so. Yes, a Hospital Corpsman could and would be in charge of a Dispensary, or even a medical platoon. But Docs like Ryder were generally exempted from normal Non-Commissioned Officer duties, such as combat training, planning and organization, and leading men into battle. Their profession was so much more important than that, after all. Sara had done very well in keeping twelve people alive with knowledge and skills, but the situation had changed, and for the better. Sara was nodding with the orders, knowing what Jannie wanted. There was no other real medically-trained personnel on the ground. Some skills? Yes. Shepard, Williams, and Alenko had all been trained in Basic Combat Medical; courses intended to have a common combatant to treat their comrades with basic techniques o keep them from bleeding out. But there was a world of difference between what Jannie knew and what Sara knew. Likewise, she also know how to treat others as well, something that the N7 never trained on or had to do. If Vakarian or Raeka had gotten shot, she would do her best, but she might cause more damage than prevent. That was why she wanted Sara on the SSV _Normandy_ ; she was likely the best in the Alliance, and even possibly in the galaxy. Exactly what a SPECTRE needed.

"On it." Sara nodded. "Anything I need to look at before we move?"

"Not at this time." The N7 replied, her back painfully reminding her of the damage she had taken fighting that Armature, but that could wait. The damage was already done, and Jannie wasn't about to start peeling her armor off in the bottom of a cavern in hostile territory. Sara wasn't fooled as her eyes narrowed and looked right at the redhead, obviously noting that someone had been wounded, and that someone had been her. "Later, Doc. Area isn't secured, and it's been decently dealt with for the time being. Afterwards you can mother hen me to death."

"I did treat it, and it isn't combat-limiting." Ash spoke up, the Corpsman looking to the Staff Sergeant. "It looks painful as hell, but I put on ointment, gave her some anti-inflammatory meds, and dressed it with dry dressings. Your stock, actually."

"Just had to go raid Doc's goodies." Sara grumped, making one of the Marine Privates chuckle, the one she called Lapdance. "Did you steal the lollipops, too?"

"Um… you had lollipops?"

* * *

The _Normandy_ ground team, now twenty strong, moved deeper into the Prothean Dig Site, towards what Professor Irissa T'vara called the 'Fall'. Commander Jane Shepard saw why; there was another chasm, and this one had a floor made out of _lava_. Therum was a geologically-active planet, and it made no sense to settle some colony or research station upon a tectonically-active, lava-spewing, volcanic hellhole in which the environment would fuck with or ruin the endeavors that were centered at the facility. The only thing that Jannie could think of was that this site had to be a Black Site; a plausible deniability research station doing research and development into something illegal or unethical back during the Prothean Era, a place that they could bury and the planet itself would destroy the evidence in the near future. Except that it hadn't happened, and the ruins had survived fifty thousand years with little to no structural damage or loss of integrity. The Protheans really knew how to build their shit, evidently. The engineer in Shepard could only marvel at the ingenuity of such a feat. Nothing man-made on Earth came even close to that save for some arrow points or perhaps a rock hammer.

"Through this way is the access that will lead us towards the extraction point." Professor T'vara spoke softly, her hands cradling an Asari-made submachine gun that was more ergonomic and elegant-looking than anything Humanity made, with white ceramic pieces that were gracefully curved and swept back almost like an Asarikin's crest. Humanity made guns to be functional and purposeful; Asari evidently thought to make their firearms look 'pretty'. That was just retarded. "While the shuttles have already left, there is a secondary exit protocol that would have the personnel travel further and out of the complex through a small tunnel that leads outside into the environment of Therum. It is not far from the Dig Site entrance itself, and the tunnel is almost impossible to see from the sky or the ground."

"Good. We have a vehicle that can provide ground evac, as well as a vessel we can call for." Jannie replied as she led the team through the route, traveling through tunnels that were recon'ed and scanned by her drone Ghost, observing ahead for the presence of enemies and any other obstacles. "You said something about an elevator?"

"A Prothean-built lift, yes." The Dean of Prothean Research and Studies from the University of Serrice of Thessia replied, nodding her crested head. "Doctor T'soni had activated the security fields to protect the path to keep the Geth from making their way towards the personnel while we protected the security suite itself. While she had only a limited understanding of the device in question, she used it to good purpose."

"Yes she did." Jannie was all about fighting the enemy, but if she had to chose between killing a bad guy or saving an innocent life? Well, it depended upon the circumstance, though she generally saved the life of the innocent. It couldn't always be the case, sadly; that was war. There were seven names tattooed on her left forearm for that reminder, seven names for the seven teachers that stood with her to defend Illyeria High School from slaving pieces of shit. The galaxy remembered the Lion, the movie portrayed the Lion, but only the Lion remembered the seven men who had taken up arms to protect and defend their students, unarmored and wielding civilian-oriented pistols. If it hadn't been for their choice and their sacrifice, Jannie really would have died at the school, sooner than later, and those kids would have been taken. Those seven names on her arm were what she used whenever she came across one of _those_ decisions; stop the threat, or save the life. It was never clearly defined or easy to contemplate, but those names helped. "How many more lava pools we gonna walk by?"

"Several." Shepard grunted at that as she stepped onto a catwalk, testing it out first before stalking forward, her M-99 Saber Battle Rifle leading the way as she took point for the team, Professor T'vara right behind her. With so many people of different specialties, the order of march was mixed up now, though she had Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams in the back in a Platoon Sergeant position for command and control. The addition of the Marines and the Turian Reservists were nice, but none of them were armed with anything potent or exotic. Then again, they had been fighting the Geth for almost a complete day with normal weaponry, too. The Professor had gently _insisted_ on being second for two purposes; one for directional guidance, and the other because the Geth evidently had no defense or ability to update against Biotics. That was something to note later on, but for now, they were going to use it. "The lift is just up ahead, Commander."

"I see it." Jannie moved forward as she entered through the opening that led onto a disk-like platform for the elevator, a large circular lava tube in which someone had built an elevator with a central support strut in the middle to move it as oppose to several outer struts. Jannie did a slow sweep of the platform as she took a knee and scanned everything with her Saber and her eyes, making sure the platform was clear of any threats. "Vakarian, Raeka? Move forward and clear the upper levels while we infill. I don't want any surprises." There was no cover on the elevator minus the large central support, which wasn't nearly enough for a team their size. Both snipers moved forward with their respective weapons, using their scoped rifles to scan upward in sweeping concentric circles to visually clear the next few levels. Jannie knew that they wouldn't be able to clear the whole thing due to the increasing angle they higher they went, but at the last they might be able to spot an immediate traps. "Ghost? Head on up and check as high as you can go." The contragravity drone complied as it took position by the strut and floated upward, only able to ascend approximately fifty meters. Still, it was an elevated position.

" _Jane, I detect no organic presences or synthetic bodies at this time."_ Ghost delivered via Cortana as the drone floated back downward towards the position. _"Be advised, I noted several access doors that were closed, and I am unable to penetrate the material for accurate scans."_

"Noted, we're not out of the shit yet." Jannie reverified to everyone within voice range as she dislodged Bastila from her back, the contragravity assault turret hovering less than a meter from the elevator's surface. "Weapons ready and prepare for the worse with no cover."

" _We've got that covered."_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay called out as both Quarian Pilgrims brought up their respective OmniTools, and Jannie saw two separate OmniGel-encased drones that surrounded a pair of Universal Power Cells, hovering around the Quarians. Their three-fingered hands flew over their OmniTools as the drones flew forward and several meters apart only for a pair of glowing circular walls of energy to appear, growing outward from the drones. Deployable shields!

"That's totes cool." Petty Officer Sara Ryder said to Private Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, Jannie snorting in agreement. "Wish I had thought of that." Ryder surprised Shepard by tapping at her own OmniTool and watched as _fluid_ gushed over her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Medic Armor, solidifying after a few seconds into a thin, hardened layer of… armor? It wasn't deployment armor, flash-forged layers of OmniGel fitted and added to armor before a deployment for security. Sara had done it right in front of them in a matter of seconds!

" _Is that deployable OmniGel armor? I'm jealous!"_ Tali'Zorah gushed, pulling out her Quarian-made Reegar Carbine EME Shotgun. _"Can we trade?"_

"Think you might have made a few friends, kiddo." The N7 told her friend, the RRU Sniper snorting as Detective Garrus Vakarian switched out his Armax Arsenal M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle for his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, the weapon obviously heavily modified by a dedicated shooter devoted to his profession. Jannie had served in the Teams for years, but she had certainly never been a part of such a diverse and eclectic group before. She had been amongst some of the best Humanity had to offer, but working with this group now?

It was too early to tell, but this crew certainly had promise.

"Marines! Take defensive positions behind the shields!" Sergeant Williams called out as the six Enlisted Marines moved to the flanking positions of each of the shields, three on each outer side and positioned to where they could maximize the use of cover while keeping their area of engagement towards the most likely threat area as Jannie took position at one of the inner areas of the shield with Detective Garrus Vakarian right behind her, towering over her with his Vindicator at the ready while Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko took the low position on the other side with Urdnot Wrex above him, hoisting his Cipritine Armory Phaeston Heavy Automatic Rifle with Sergeant Williams taking a knee beside him. Agent Zevin Raeka was queuing up something on her OmniTool while Tali'Zorah and Niki'Raan took positions at the center of the shields, the both of them readying their Quarian weapons while Doctor T'soni was gestured by Professor T'vara to do something with her hands, and Jannie was amused to see both Asari spring up a slight blue warbling nimbus of energy about them as another layer of protection sprung up in front of the shields while the Turian Reservists took a knee besides Shepard and Alenko, ready to add their own KAL-25 submachine guns into the fray while Ryder stood just above them, a Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger in one hand while she kept her left ready, obviously for her Biotics.

"Exit level, please." The N7 ordered as Doctor Liara T'soni nodded in compliance, moving a meter or so to the central support where the elevator control was located. She hit an appropriate toggle on the device, and Jannie felt the platform jostle once before it began to rise, the elevator as slow as the ones on the Cit. That had her grunt out in exasperation. "What is it with Prothean engineering and slow fucking elevators?"

"You don't even notice it after a while." The Not-Dalatrass answered as an orangish OmniGel-encapsulated drone was printed out of her OmniTool, no doubt one of her Kamikaze drones that would zero in on a target and launch itself forward with fiery effect. She also had one that had fired like a dozen little ones that sought out random enemy IFF's and knocked them around a good bit. The STG did _not_ fuck around. When everyone got back in the _Normandy_ , there was going to be a Tech Show, and there was going to be some mad-ass drug deals going on. The platform continued to move upward as Jannie shouldered her M-99 Saber, seeing the first 'level' pass by, an access door that would exit onto it closed. She briefly wondered if the Expeditionary Teams had explored everything here, or had only gotten so far. Well, they knew about the elevator and had come up with two evacuation points. Someone had their head screwed on right. If Jannie had to guess, she would have put hard credits on Professor Irissa T'vara, if what Sara had told her was true. The Asari Matriarch was a former Sister Hospitaller, a Commando Medic in the Asari Republican Forces, and Shepard guessed that some mentalities never did fade away, even after centuries.

"How many levels until the exit?" Jannie asked casually, knowing that several people could answer that question.

"Three." _Centurion_ Linaseus replied, his flanged voice calm and steady as the platform continued upward in elevation. The Reservists were all Turians who had served their fifteen (or more) and had gotten out for a quasi-civilian life, signing on for the Reserves for the benefits it offered from the Hierarchy as long as stipulations were met. As Jannie understood it, Reservists had to maintain themselves and a weapons system, as well as volunteering during times of need to retain that status. That… actually said a good deal, honestly. "There will be some gantries along the way, so be mindful of mass and where one steps."

" _Gantries?"_ Tali'Zorah asked, not knowing the term. Well, it wasn't like a race that lived entirely on starships would need to know about construction practices on planets.

"Catwalks, suspended metal walkways along the cavern walls." Sara informed the Pilgrim, holding her Stinger flush to her shoulder, crouched in a kneeling position. "Abadexus is right, we'll need to be mindful of how many are on it at one time. There was never more than seven at any one time, but…" Jannie noted the Angel was looking at the Krogan. "Big guy here might have to make the walk solo just to be safe. Wasn't exactly constructed with Krogan in mind."

"Did you just call me fat?" The big game hunter asked, his tone amused as one of the Marine Privates, Ballsack, snickered off to one side, being shushed by another, K-Pop. They passed by the second level, slowly, and the access door there was also closed. So far, so good.

"One more to go." Doctor Liara T'soni stated the obvious, and another of the Marines snorted. "We are unsure if there was any activity up in these level after the evacuation. There was not when the shuttles left, but there was nearly eighteen hours for the Geth to have infiltrate their way to these levels through other tunnels and constructed walkways."

"Got it." It was rather obvious that the good Doctor didn't have any practical military training or experience. Well, she was a Doctor of Protheantology; not exactly battlefield material. "We reach the top level? Myself, Ash, Wrex, and Garrus will clear the immediate access and vicinity. Everyone else prep for movement and action." Shepard saw the ones she called out nod in acknowledgment. Out of everyone, they had the heaviest armor and the heaviest guns save for Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. Jannie wasn't about to let the EOD Officer start lobbing grenades towards a constructed walkway over a chasm or whatnot where splash damage could compromise the structural integrity. "Here we go." The elevator was finally reaching the third level after what seemed to be the same amount of minutes, the device taking its sweet time.

They reached the upper level, and Jannie wasn't really surprised at all to find that they had company.

* * *

There was a hierarchy to the galaxy, where the strongest survived, that those who were not were ruled by those who were, or were crushed underfoot. Before Mankind had discovered ProTech in 2148 in Desoto Crater on Mars, that very law had created civilization, nations, wars, and evolution on Earth. After the First Contact War, Humanity learned very painfully that the law applied to the galaxy at large, and Mankind was somewhere near the bottom of the ladder. All the major galactic civilizations had more colonies, higher population rates, and larger militaries. Even the minor ones were several steps ahead with 'current' technology and practices while the Sons and Daughters of Earth struggled to catch up. The game was skewed in favor of those born powerful; the long-living Biotic Asari, the highly-militant Turians, and the ceaseless and restless Salarians. Even some of the minor races looked down upon Humanity, seeing them as yet another up-and-coming race burgeoning on the galactic scene; the business-oriented and filthy rich Volus, the impossibly strong yet thankfully docile Elcor, and the highly-insular and hardly-understood Hanar. The Batarians were a field unto themselves at the very least. There were dozens and dozens of races in the galaxy living in the age of Eezo-powered technology, and Mankind struggled in that war of survival.

The Krogan were certainly no exception to that rule.

Commander Jane Shepard found herself looking at half-a-dozen healthy specimens standing before her ground team, having exited out of the access door that they needed to take to leave the Prothean Site. Each of them were exemplary examples of their species; tall, thick of body and limb, with broad bony headplates adorning their skulls and large humps sticking up from their backs. Each of them were armed and armored with Korogish arms and protection, and Jannie noted that each of them wore the glyph that marked them the Blood Pack Mercenary Company; a band of Krogan-of-Fortune working together to destroy whatever opposition they were hired to smash. These guys were most definitely the ' _don't fuck around_ ' crew.

"Saren wants the Doctor." The largest of the Krogan spoke, a deep, guttural tongue that was all bass, almost neon green eyes looking at each individual of the ground team independently. Assessing threats, so a smart brute. "And whatever Saren wants, Saren gets." _Wow, no arguing with this guy!_ The other five Krogan were armed with weaponry similar to Urdnot Wrex's, long heavy weapons that were likely half again more powerful than anything most carried, and would likely break through their shields and armor in no time. Jannie noted that two of them were carrying fire-based weapons, and… was one of them carrying a fucking _warhammer_? "Hand the girl over. Or not. That'll be fun." One of the other Krogan brutes chuckled at that, holding what looked to be a TST Duel-Staged Linear Motor Rifle, more commonly known as a ChemRail. That bastard had BlackTech in his hands.

"We outnumber you twenty-to-six!" Shepard pointed out, hoping that the Krogan would see reaso… wait, what the fuck was she thinking? They were _Krogan_.

They thrilled on battle.

"Exhilarating, isn't it!" The lead Krogan replied, giving off a toothy grin. "But just because you have twenty doesn't mean _we're_ outnumbered, Human. Hand the girl over, or we'll take her over your corpses. Saren will pay us either way."

"Y'know… I've never met a Krogan lap dog until now."

Jannie felt her jaw drop at the sound of Petty Officer Sara Ryder's voice. The N7 looked over as she watched the Hospital Corpsman stand up from her kneeling position near the middle of the defensive position, resting her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger submachine gun on her right shoulder like some colony redneck as the Firstborn stood tall, proud, defiant. What was the fool girl _thinking_?

"Even went and made himself some Turians' _bitch_." Sara wasn't stopping. Jannie was discretely trying to get her friends' attention, but without avail. "Kid's these days." Sara let off a _faux_ long-suffering sigh as she elbowed Wrex beside her. "They'll suck anyone's _vnark_ these days for a Cred."

"Damn." Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams intoned as Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko whistled once, indicating the same thing.

"Oh Goddess…" Doctor Liara T'soni moaned out loud to Jannie's port, the Asari's teal skin going grayish. Wrex was just chuckling as _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus snorted, saying _stiffness to THAT one's plates_ under his breath. Shepard was pretty sure what that meant.

"What did you just say, whelp!" The lead Krogan took a step forward, his tone murderous as both of his neon green eyes zeroed in on Sara, the other Krogan taking a step _back_. Jannie realized what was going on. It wasn't retreat.

Sara was calling the leader out in an one-on-one duel.

The Krogan were more-or-less a blight on existence. Once haled as galactic heroes and saviors for their efforts and victory during the Rachni Wars some two thousand years prior, the species from Tuchanka had royally pissed everyone off by attacking and killing the Salarian Councilor in a fit of rage over some unsanctioned colonization efforts on the Krogan when they went and moved upon a planet already populated by the Salarians. Thus the Krogan Rebellions, a war that lasted well over three centuries with the fatality count in the _billions_. The ultimate card had been pulled upon the Tuchankans when the Salarians had devised some synthgene plague called the Genophage and delivered it to several major Krogan breeding sites to _sterilize_ the species, erasing their ability to reproduce so rapidly and in such great quantity. Though the Rebellions weren't quelled for another eighty years or so, the death stroke had been enacted as mothers started giving birth to stillborn Krogan babies by the dozens, only one or two surviving birth.

Scuttlebutt was that if one went seventeen hundred light years away from Tuchanka, one could still hear the wailing cries of grieving Krogan mothers from the act.

Krogan were, strangely enough, a race of honor. Fucked up honor, but still honor. If one fought or insulted a family member, be prepared to fight off the family. If one fucked with a Krogan child, expect every Krogan male in the next _Parsec_ to viciously hunt your ass down and murder you in ways that would make a cannibal throw up. Krogan never lied, disdained narcotics, and absolutely _loathed_ any crime that involved children, even murdering anyone that would mess with a Turian hatchling or a Salarian _taddi_. Jannie never got Krogan, only knowing the basics; tough, resilient, strong as hell, fast as hell, carried big weapons, able to recuperate and regenerate wounds faster than anyone else, and with skin and muscle density that made round penetration from lighter calibers a joke. Most of what she actually knew was from Sara, who had actually known a few from the CitEMS, blowing Shepard's mind away that there were Krogan _medics_. The males were like bulls from Earth; the hunters, the leaders. And in charge of any pack, there was an Alpha.

If one dueled and Alpha and won, the rest of the pack would bow out gracefully. It was Korogish Law.

The N7 realized what was going on when Sara baited the lead Krogan, talking mad shit to the tallest of the group and making him step forward; she was calling him out, and he stepped forward to acknowledge the challenge. Sara was easily the smallest of the group, Humans generally being smaller than the rest of the major species, Turians towering over them while Asari only being a little bit taller. Sara was rather petite for a Human, and even so for a Human female, standing tall at one hundred and sixty centimeters/sixty-three Imperial inches tall. She was five foot _fucking_ three and she was _baiting_ a Krogan that topped seven and a half!

 _Sara, I'm going to rip you a new fucking asshole for this!_ Jannie thought to herself as she stayed in place, queuing electronic orders through Cortana to relay to everyone else in the ground team to remain in place and _do nothing_. It was a one-on-one duel, and there would be heavy casualties if they had to face all six on an elevator platform with no cover. That's why Ryder was doing this; Doc was looking out for her men, putting herself into harm's way to save lives. She had spent the past Solar day keeping them alive, and successfully so, yet on the Cit-born's mind was the crushing number of thirty-one Marines that didn't; her Marines. No doubt Sara was thinking 'not one more'. _That should be_ me _out there, talking mad shit to the 'roid-freak Krogan. I'm going to rip you a new fucking asshole, Sara Elaine Ryder!_

 _If you survive_ , Jannie thought with a pane in her heart.

"Hey! It's okay!" Sara smiled as she stepped forward as well, _sauntering_ as if without a care on the planet, her Stinger still propped on her shoulder like she was some colonial croppie, her other hand tapping on the butt of her Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistol. Neither one of those weapons were exactly… impressive. Standard-issue munitions for Navy Corpsmen. Good for Wack-A-Pirate and Batarian ex-patriates. Not exactly appropriate for huge-ass Krogan. "Whoring yourself for a Turian, not judging at all! I've heard the rumors, too!" God, she was really going to talk herself to death! "They are well-hung, right? Like an Elcor? You'd know."

" _WHAT!_ "

"Oh shit, Doc." That was Brassiere, shaking his head as the Private gaped.

"Hey, afterwards? You can jump on a table and shake your little ass-tail for a bonus!" Doc was on a roll, and Shepard had to grit her teeth to keep from jumping in. "I'll throw in a complimentary brass pole so you can spin around like a Bar-sari stripper. If you need a bra and a thong, I'll lend you mine."

" _You… DARE!"_ The Krogan was pissed. _Real_ pissed. He was breathing in hard snorts, his teeth bared, and moving in agitated jerks. There was a word for a condition, a very scary word; _Bloodrage_. A Krogan in a bloodrage was practically an unstoppable force of strength and fury, often taking hours to calm down from the condition. By that time, everyone in the nearby vicinity was usually in bloody pieces. What the fuck was Sara _thinking_? Not only was she about to get on a one-on-one duel with a huge ass Krogan, but she was obviously coaxing him into a _bloodrage_! "I have the blood of _Shiagur_ in me, puny water bag!"

"Earned your red wings, did you? Not suppose to swallow afterwards, that's just gross." That almost had Jannie gag as Alenko coughed uncomfortably while about half of the Marines hooted at that. Go figure the Jarheads would be eating this shit up.

"Red wings?" Detective Garrus Vakarian whispered.

"Involves orally pleasuring a woman during her menstrual cycle." Shepard answered with a wince. She didn't even want to know who came up with the term. Or how Sara learned it.

"Barbaric." Abadexus Linaseus coined beside her, the _Centurion_ obviously disgusted. "Unless… is that a good thing for Humans?"

"Nope. Barbaric."

" _I am going to crush you limb from limb!"_ The Krogan shouted, his deep voice reverberating off of the elevator shaft walls as he holstered his enormous-looking shotgun, what looked to be a Nakmor Arms M300 Claymore Heavy Objective Shotgun. In lieu of the bodysplitting shotgun, the Krogan pulled out a _fucking sword_ that was almost as long as Sara was tall from his back! Great, armed with _two_ claymores! _"And then I am going to drag you by your entrails as you beg for death, shit-flinger!"_ Well, that was a colorful racist term. Jannie thought. Usually, it was ' _monkey_ '. But somehow some of the species in the galaxy discovered that some of the more playful Terran primates were known for throwing shit at their enemies or to mark their territory. And the name stuck, unfortunately. _"I will crush your skull with my boot and listen to your last gurgling breaths with a smile!"_ Oh yeah, definite Bloodrage, that one. _Sara! I just fucking_ rescued _you!_ Yet the Corpsman didn't look perturbed at all at the sight of an enraged half-ton Tuchankan holding a meter-and-a-half blade in both hands.

"Come get you some, _bitch_." Sara Ryder smirked as she lifted up her left hand and gestured the Krogan to do just that. "Let's see how well you can give me some head."

The Krogan roared in absolute Bloodrage, lowering his bony headplate, and _charged_.

While most digitigrade species, like the Turians and Quarians, were faster than their galactic plantigrade kin, the Krogan were the exception to that rule. Krogan were the fastest sprinters amongst the galactic races in short distances, clocking in at some one hundred kilometers an hour at distances just short of a kilometer. When said Krogan weighed in on average at five hundred kilograms, that generally equated to an organic wrecking ball. It was one of the things that made the Krogan so dangerous, feared throughout the galaxy as one of the toughest warriors in single-combat. With their thick hides that could bounce light rounds and protect against medium-powered rounds, dense bone structure that protected against broken bones and small explosions, multiple redundant organ systems to keep a Krogan alive through the ghastliest of wounds, nigh-bulletproof headplates, and the ability to regenerate from their wounds in a remarkable short period of time, Krogan were nearly an impossible foe to defeat in up-close battle. The elevator platform wasn't large, had no cover, and would make fighting the Krogan a very nasty encounter. There would be heavy casualties, and likely the Alliances' ubiquitous clause 'Critical Mission Failure' or the more-accurate 'Total Party Kill'.

Sara found a way to even the odds, and then she used the oldest trick in the book; she got the Krogan stupid.

The distance between the Krogan and Sara Ryder had been an easy five meters, just enough space for someone to react if paying attention. While Krogan were great sprinters, it still took a second or two for them to get up to speed, and the normal method of a Krogan charge was to lower their heads and use their bony headplates as a battering ram. The consequence of this was the fact that all of them were nearly blind to what was in front of them while they did so. For a species evolved upon a planet where everything was a meal to anything else, the act seemed almost suicidal folly, to charge in blindly. Yet that was what the Krogan did, holding his enormous sword one handed, not even in a striking position as he lowered his brownish headcrest and leapt forward, trunk-like legs pumping to accelerate into killing speed. Sara was standing at a ready crouch when the Krogan let off his bestial roar, ready to dive out of the way as the Krogan sprinted right for the Firstborn, Jannie's heart leaping up into her throat at the sight, damn near pulling the trigger on her M-99 Saber on the Krogan as he bulled right towards Sara at a speed that sickened the N7.

Sara merely waived her left hand upward, as if shooing off a fly.

And much to Jannie's surprise, the Krogan went flying before he ever collided with the Sailor.

The Tuchankan rocketed with all his speed, albeit _airborne_ , right into the central elevator support strut in the middle of the platform, behind where the ground team was positioned. The Krogan struck it at a speed likely near a hundred kilometers an hour into the ultra-dense metal of Prothean manufacture, striking it with a sickening _thud_ with his face as he rebounded off violently and fell to the platform several meters downward, bouncing only slightly. Jannie had pivoted to track the Krogan, and observed that he laid upon the ground, as still as death.

"Get some, Doc!" Hooted Ballsack, as the other Marines cheered and roared with mixtures of _Get Some!, Fuck Yeah!_ and _Hoo-rah!_ Sara turned from her position forward of their defenses as she sauntered towards the Krogan, a wicked smile upon her cherubic features.

"Knife." She requested out loud.

"Here." _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus pulled out and handed over his Talon, and Jannie felt her eyes go wide at that, immediately knowing the significance. The sixty-centimeter long claw dagger known as the _Talon_ was an honor weapon amongst the Turians; they weren't purchased, but earned in battle or won in duels. A Turian who had shamed himself could regain his honor by committing _sepikku_ , or gift it to a warrior more superior than he, or bequeath it to a son. A Turian could win one in battle, delivered to him by his Commanding Officer, or in a duel, handed over by his defeated foe. A Talon was a near-holy object for the militant-minded Turian, and for one to even _lend_ one was an act of great respect. "Use mine."

"Thank you." Shepard could tell that the Corpsman was touched by the gesture as Detective Vakarian purred through his mandibles above Jannie, probably in agreement or approval. Sara took the curved blade with its inner curve sharpened, made out of what appeared to be forged titanium. That wasn't a common blade, and Jannie spotted a Turian insignia on the pommel. It… it was a Blackwatch Talon, once own by a member of the Turian Elite Combatant Group. That meant that Abadexus Linaseus had received it from a member of the Blackwatch for one reason or another. Sara moved towards the fallen Krogan, barely stirring upon the platform as the Corpsman raised up her left hand, the air around it wavering like a mirage as the Krogan was pulled from the ground in something closely resembling a kneeling position. In her right hand was the Talon, held properly in the reverse grip, the curved blade running along her forearm with the sharp inner-curve ready to slice and maim.

"Threatened my _family_." Sara spoke, her tone neutral but hard as she stood before the Krogan, whose head lolled about, conscious but incapacitated. "Threatened my _friends_. Threaten my _Marines_." Jannie felt her heart hiccup a little at Ryder's voice, listening to this woman that looked like her friend… but two years had changed her. Made her strong, made her _hard_. "You threatened that which is most important to me, turtle, intending to take away all that I hold dear.

"Time to return the favor. _Bitch_."

Jane Shepard watched with utter amazement as Sara took the Talon and executed a backhand stab with the curved blade, and shoved the sixty-centimeter blade under the bony headplate of the Krogan right in front of her. His neon-green eyes shot open in _fear_ as he whimpered, vowel-less cries uttered for but a brief moment before Ryder took the palm of her right hand and with all of her might hammered the Talon inward and upward, the meat of her palm striking the pommel with a meaty smack. There was a disgusting suction noise, as if something was being unpuckered off of wet glass, as the Krogan cried out once, pain and fear in his bass-like voice as Sara's face grew ugly as she pulled out the blade, reached for the lip of the headplate and with a mighty yank, popped it open like a can of LightSpeed.

The headcrest came right off in her hand.

The Krogan, on his knees, made a choking noise as his thick, stubby arms went upward for a moment, three-fingered paws reaching for what was once topping his head… and finding nothing there. The next sound he made sounded a great deal like a kicked puppy in Jannie's ears as she looked upon what had been underneath the bony headplate and seeing a blue/grayish mass of… well, _brains_. The Krogan was trembling and whimpering as he burst into tears, cries that echoed throughout the elevator shaft.

"A skull. For the Skull Throne." Sara announced in a cold tone, the Krogan's headplate still in her left hand.

"Fucking get some…" Commented Lapdance, his voice in awe as the Marine just _stared_. The rest of the Marines just watched, transfixed.

"Spirits, witness these deeds…" _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus breathed out, his flanged voice too in awe.

"Beautiful…" Urdnot Wrex breathed out through a toothsome smile.

"Goddess, praise the strong who would stand for the weak." Professor Irissa T'vara spoke with reverence.

" _Ancestors, please don't let me regurgitate in my helmet."_ Tali'Zorah whimpered slightly, her vox transmitting it.

Doctor Liara T'soni noisily retched upon the floor in front of her.

"Sara…" Jannie was unable to comprehend what she had just seen. In her mind, she saw the young perky teenager, a whirlwind of bubbly enthusiasm whose main goals in life were pranking her twin brother and ripping mods into games to make them non-vanilla and more exciting. She was having a hard time comparing the eternally-effervescent, sweet and caring young Sara Ryder with this… this _hardcore badass!_ She just cracked upon a Krogan's' skull like a cold one! It had been two years since Jannie had physically seen the young woman, and obviously she had grown since then. Shepard was now witnessing how much Ryder had grown. She was Doc, through-and-through; saving lives with medical knowledge and rushing into the fray to pull out a comrade in need, and _obliterating_ anyone that would injure one of her Marines in the first place.

Sara turned from the Krogan, still weeping as his hands covered his exposed cranial organ, a bitter wreck, as the Corpsman stomped towards the five remaining Krogan, who had all watched the fight without voice or interference as she stood before them, tossing the headplate onto the platform's deck right in front of their feet, the bony trophy clattering with a hollow sound.

"I am victorious." Sara said in an even tone, looking at the five heavily-armed Krogan as Jannie watched Doc fold her arms across her chest, her chin up, strong and defiant. "Me and mine shall pass."

"A worthy victory, battle kin." The Krogan carrying the warhammer replied, nodding his head as he shouldered the massive melee weapon. His tone was conversational, even polite. "What Clan do you hail from, sister?"

"Ryder Sara, daughter of Alec." The Corpsman replied, saying her surname first in lieu of a Clan, as Krogan were wont to do. She had also included her lineage, much like Krogan and Turians did.

"The Human Pathfinder." The Krogan nodded his head, surprising Jannie. Alec Ryder was a name well-known amongst Humanity, but the N7 was surprised that a Krogan would know of it. "Tough bastard, that one. He would be proud of his heir, Sara daughter of Alec. May the ground quake at your tread, and may your enemies know no mercy." One red eye moved to look at the cast-down headplate. "Collect your trophy before you and your _Grant_ leave. You have earned the right to place it upon your mantel of conquests."

* * *

The Krogan were thankfully true to their word; they had let the SSV _Normandy_ Ground Team and its collection of additions leave the elevator shaft unmolested. Unfortunately, the Geth weren't so accommodating.

Commander Jane Shepard was firing steadily with her AOFI M-99 Saber Battle Rifle with practiced ease, firing through its eight-round heat capacity before ducking behind the cover of a small rock berm to vent heat before getting back into the shit, using Ghosts' sensors to keep track of enemy numbers and positions while she was under cover before kneeling up to fire upon more Geth hardware platforms. The enemy easily numbered well over a hundred in the small cavern that they had encountered the Geth in, the units seemingly moving in coordinated seek-and-destroy operations when Ghost detected their presence at the same time the Geth detected them. Sadly, the cavern in which they were fighting in had several levels of possible positions in higher elevations, in which the Geth occupied. The _Normandy_ crew, on the other hand, were stuck with a small beachhead in front of the tunnel that they had exited from and the tunnel itself. Their position wasn't big enough to get everyone in on the fighting to maximize their firepower or to take advantage of the Geth tactically. The five-man front that Jannie had established was taking fire from four different major positions and three minor ones from multiple units at each position, not to mention the rushers and assaulters that tried to flank them.

"Alenko! Keep saturating that high position!" The N7 coordinated the battle as she popped up out of cover and fired her Saber as fast and as accurately as she could to whittle the number of platforms down, grunting as her shields took a beating, rounds slowed by the Kinetic Shielding of her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor before impacting sluggishly against her heavily-reinforced ceramic plating constructed of carbon nanotubes and synthdiamonds. Normally, such impacts were barely felt due to the Magnetorheological Newtonian Fluid layer underneath the reinforced ceramics and sandwiched between hardened duel-layered piezoelectric thermoplastics made to self-heal when punctured, the fluid engineered to fill in the puncture site and stiffen to seal the breach and keep structural integrity and damage protection at optimal levels. But with the damage she had already taken with her fight with the Armature and the ten minute battle they were currently clocking at against the Geth, her armor had just about reached her limit. Not to mention she was damn near black on Universal Power Cells to recharge her shield batteries whenever the Geth overwhelmed them with whatever technological trickery they had in their arsenal. "Wrex, Focus on the bigger ones! Williams, suppress port-side positions. Vakarian, keep up those chest shots, and knock out their optics if that's the only thing presented! Raan, tag and zap the drone-happy motherfuckers!"

The Geth had adapted against them at least a dozen times, and the longer the fight went, the better the synthetics got.

" _Auntie! Keep it up!"_ Petty Officer Sara Ryder called out from inside the tunnel where most of the ground team was holding position, switching out members to combat against Geth updating and giving members a chance to rest and recuperate from the heavy fighting. They had already taken two casualties; Raeka and Blowjob. Agent Zevin Raeka had taken a round through her left shoulder early in the fight when trying to fire her swarm of micro-rockets at the Geth, only for the targeting systems to be reversed and the explosive munitions turned against them, the Not-Dalatrass almost got blown up by her own tech candy, and had taken a Geth round when her shields had snapped. Marine Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk had been almost gunned down throwing a grenade while out-of-cover; the Private had stood up to get better visual and aim to launch the explosive device against a nearby position. Sara had pulled him away after protecting his body with her own when the Marine nervelessly dropped the activated grenade after being hit half a dozen times, his shields overtaxed and his armor punctured. While Doc had pulled him to the tunnel and had gotten to work on him, it had been touch and go for several minutes. Jannie still remembered the Privates' condition; critical, barely stable. _"We got an idea that might work!"_

"Wing it, whatever you got!" Jannie called out, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before they _lost_. They couldn't move forward, they were outnumbered, and the Geth just kept adapting to tactics. The first update had been to remove the Geth Alpha Prime Unit away from the worst of the fighting when the N7 ordered Williams, Wrex, and Vakarian to take out the large mobility platform at the get-go to disrupt Geth intelligence. The damn things had caught on, and quickly. Now it sat behind cover at an elevated position, too steep an angle and protected by bedrock for them to even touch. It was like trying to kill an expert military commander whose ass was parked _in space_ , giving effective orders every time while reinforcements continued to show up and pour in.

" _Shit! I just shoved in my last ammo block!"_ Williams called out, her tone dismayed. That had Jannie's blood go cold as she did a quick touch-check of her own block pouches and found she only had two Universal Weapons Supply Munitions, Cubes herself, generally known as 'ammo blocks'.

" _Staff Sergeant! Here's one of mine!"_ Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss called out, obviously tossing out an ammo block to the Colonial Soldier. Hell, Sara's group had been damn near out of ammo themselves from their protracted fight, having stripped parts from around the Dig Site and converted it into MetalGel only to minifacture ammo blocks on the fly. It made for shit ammo, but it made ammo. _"Doc? Blowjob's bag is empty."_ Blowjob had an IV popped into him to combat the blood loss, Ryder giving him a liter of PlasmaStend blood volumizer. Jannie knew without being told that Blowjob needed a MEDEVAC ten minutes ago. Kid was living on borrowed time.

" _Grab one out of my MedPak and replace it, Lapdance. Just… need… another… minute."_ Doc's tone was full of frustration and concentration.

" _Captain! Spike!"_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya called out. _Shit._

 _Adaptation_.

Jannie looked up over her cover as she rocked her heat dispersal bolt forward to see about forty or so assault drones flash-forged by the Geth to add to their problems. Jannie ducked as OmniGel rounds began saturating the defensive position from the additional manufactured units, yet another problem to deal with. _Fuck. Ungood._

" _Jane, runtimes are being compromised."_ Ghost announced.

 _Double fuck ungood._

"Sara! Work your magic faster!" Shepard called out, knowing that there were on a deadline now; once that clock ran out, they were fucked, and fucked horribly. _Compromised runtimes_ meant the Geth had hacked their way through the various levels of firewalls installed in armors, weapons, VI software management suites, OmniTools… the works. Now malicious code was infiltrating their systems… and things were going to fail. Jannie leaned out of cover to fire her M-99 Saber, pulling the trigger… and nothing happened. Her eyes went wide as she jerked back into cover as her shields damn near overloaded from the assault drones and Geth platforms, cursing a storm as she slapped her Saber on her chest and pulled out her N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun. "My Saber's down!" The Commander called out, not bothering to hide the venom in her voice. She looked to her ARO display at her shield icon, waiting for the charge feeder to regenerate the capacitors of her shields back to full strength after a few seconds of cover… but they stayed at ten percent for well over five seconds. "Fuck! I think my shields are gone, too!"

" _You've been identified, Captain."_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay replied from inside the tunnel, the Pilgrim having used up all her Universal Power Cells fighting off the Geth a few minutes prior. They were literally down to scraps at the bottom of the barrel. _"They know compromising you will affect unit integrity and effectiveness."_ The Marine-hopeful's tone was sad, and Jannie knew why. The Geth were trying to assassinate her, knowing that the rest of the Ground Team would falter and fail without her. They were going to shut everything down around her, and then everyone would try to protect the Commander as Jannie sat there like sitting duck with non-functional weapons, shields, and munitions. Hell of a fucking plan, Goddamn it. It was exactly whet she had done to the Alpha Prime earlier when rescuing Sara and her Marines.

" _Almost… there!"_ Sara promised, the Corpsman having been working on something with Agent Zevin Raeka (single-handedly, har har), Professor Irissa T'vara, Doctor Liara T'soni, and Tali'Zorah nar Reyya. _"Tali! Tell me the script is ready! I've already assembled the necessary parts."_ Lord only knew what Ryder was working on, but when the five smartest members of the ground team came together to _out-science the fuck out of the Geth_ (Sara's exact words), Jannie had decided to buy them the time. Not that there were any other real options. Jannie was engaging the Geth with her Hurricane when the weapon stopped firing on its own. The overheat alarm wasn't going off, it just plain stopped. _Fuck_ , Shepard thought as she realized her Hurricane's software suite was likely infected or purged. She holstered the submachine gun and drew her M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol, but the weapon failed to extend and activate.

 _Oh shit, I'm out of weapons,_ the N7 thought to herself as her Augmented Reality Overlay sputtered and died, her Predator's armor and all of its enhancements deactivated.

" _T-total sys-systemsssszzzz f-failuuuu..."_ Ghost sputtered as the drone's contragravity thruster sputtered and died, the polygon-shaped assistant dropped to the ground while her weapons fell to the ground, her magnetic hardpoints no longer powered.

Jannie was dead in the water.

"SARA!" The N7 shouted from inside her helmet, not even knowing if anyone could actually hear her. She was dead in the water, and within the next ten to fifteen seconds, she was just going to be dead.

" _Got it!"_ Sara called out, her voice a muted one as if talking through a closed door as Jannie kept low behind cover as she watched the Corpsman move forward from the tunnel and next to Ash's position, pulling the Soldiers' Heckler and Koch M320 Variable Munitions Launcher from her hip and loading some sort of grenade into the side-loading weapon before snapping it into firing configuration. The Corpsman looked over to Ash and gave her a nod, and the Colonial Soldier brazenly stood up from cover and sprayed the lower level with a fast, wide arc of M-76 Reverent fire, sweeping back and forth to coax the Geth into cover as Sara stood up and aimed the M320 high towards where the Alpha Prime unit was located behind a thick stalagmite.

" _Fucking get some!"_ Ryder shouted as she pulled the trigger, and the stubby weapon rocked in her two-handed grip as the grenade was launched. Much to Jannie's surprise, the grenade split into four pieces somewhere in the middle of its arc of travel, turning into four orb-like objects as the orbs continued towards their destination. Then, to her amazement, they veered downward rapidly, guided towards something… magnetically? _"Geth? Meet Faraday!"_

Enemy gunfire dropped to null.

Jannie chanced a look over her cover to see the Geth just… standing there, transfixed but otherwise doing nothing else. Shepard realized what Sara had ' _scienced_ '. A tracking Faraday Cage! She had cocooned the Alpha Prime unit in a signal-cancellation field, using magnetics to lock onto the target and four electromagnetically-conductive modules to link together and null any kind of input/output signal. No updates, no adaptation, either to or from the Alpha Prime. She had essentially severed the brain from the rest of the synthetic body.

"Fish in a barrel time!" Ash shouted as she stood up and started firing her Reverent at singular targets, taking down the nearby Geth hardware platforms as Urdnot Wrex added his own Cipritine Armory Phaeston Heavy Automatic Rifle to the Soldiers, chewing through the immobile Geth. Detective Garrus Vakarian and Agent Zevin Raeka moved forward with their own battle rifles, the M-15 Vindicator and M-55 Argus firing staccato as four Marines jumped in, their Hahne-Keder M7 Lancers engaging the flash-forged drones and Trooper units while the three Turian Reservists inserted themselves in as well, coordinating their fire for maximum efficiency. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko minifactured a grenade in which he gave to Sara, and the Corpsman fired it overhead, and Jannie smiled at the sight of a DPICM Round; Duel-Purpose Improved Conventional Munitions. The grenade detonated twenty meters overhead and dropped dozens of bomblets over the area in front of them, saturating Geth platforms with mini-explosives. Professor Irissa T'vara came out of the tunnel and began firing with her Asari-oriented submachine gun with Doctor Liara T'soni at her side, the younger Asari firing at a slower rate, obviously having never been trained. Niki'Raan had a pistol out that fired ionizing paths much like her Adas did but without the tags, zapping Geth platforms at a slower and less powerful rate while Tali'Zorah raised up her Armali Council Nexus OmniTool and fired a tech mine at one platform, causing its holstered grenades to detonate.

"Hook a sister up, Sara!" Shepard called out as she re-appropriated the Corpsman's Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Pistol from her left thigh and began adding more rounds, Geth platforms being taken down quickly and viciously. She wasn't about to risked having that Faraday Cage coming down and having too many Geth still around. They had the advantage, and everyone was seizing it. "Fuck this thing is so underpowered!" The N7 laughed as she cocked back the heat dispensing slide on the top of the pistol, having gone through all twelve rounds and taking down just a single Shock Trooper platform. "I haven't used a Kessler in _years_!" Jannie racked the slide forward and proceeded to engage another Geth unit.

"Does the poor N7 need a hug?" Ryder called out, her tone mirthful as she stitched up a Geth armed with a munitions launcher, overtaxing its shields before its chassis was perforated with Stinger rounds. Jannie just laughed as she put another hardware platform down. Fighting along Sara's side? Seeing the woman she had become? The Lion and the Angel together?

This was destiny in the making.

* * *

Seaman Murphy's Law is as follows; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong… disastrously. Commander Jane Shepard was well-acquainted with Seaman Murphy, who liked to rear his ugly hand and volunteer to fuck some shit up to complicate things. Substandard-crafted ammo blocks, buggy VI patches, combat software updates that shutdown mid-download, bad grenade primers… all of these had happened to Jannie at one point of time or another in her eleven-year career in the Navy, undetectable and completely vile. An earlier version of Bastila had once patched a glitch that had its targeting system aiming three degrees to the left thanks to some malicious software update in the auto-targeting system, and Jannie had to spend the entire mission during the Blitz dealing with a malfunctioning assault turret that _wasn't_ shooting at the enemy. Yes, she knew Seaman Murphy well.

This time, that motherfucker went and fucked with the only _route_ to the surface.

Shepard stood at the tunnel that lead towards a series of grate catwalks that wrapped around the cavern wall that lead towards the path that would take them to the exterior extraction point on Therum's surface, seeing about half-a-kilometers' worth of Human-oriented industrial catwalks bolted to the wall spanning a fucking lava pool several hundred meters down. It was hotter than hell in the cavern, and Jannie's dead-in-the-water armor wasn't providing any kind of environmental comfort as she sweated in the forty-two degree Celsius/one hundred-and-seven degree Fahrenheit temperature. But she wasn't sweating the temperature.

A part of the catwalk was _missing_.

"Is there no other way around?" Jannie looked to Professor Irissa T'vara, who was standing by the Commander with a resigned look upon her face. Evidently, the Protheantologist Professor knew a thing or two about Seaman Murphy as well.

"Yes, but it does involve coming back the way in which we came, using the elevator to go to a lower level, and then through another series of tunnels and catwalks." The Asari Matriarch looked at the missing section in question, and then to her. "In all respect, I would rather make the leap than chance encountering more Geth and finding that they have altered more of the fabricated structure somewhere else."

"Yeah, you and me both, Professor." Jannie replied with a smirk, looking back at her ground team. If they were to take the catwalk, there would be a leap, and it wasn't necessarily a short one. Turians were noted for their leaping abilities, so she was sure that Detective Garrus Vakarian and their three Reservists would have no issues. She had no idea about the Quarians, though they were digitigrades like the Turians, and likely would leap farther than a Human. Salarians were noted jumpers, so Agent Zevin Raeka shouldn't have a problem. Jannie had no idea about the Asari or Krogan's ability to make the jump, though if she had to bet Credits she'd guess that Wrex wouldn't be too worried. It was a bit of a long jump for a Human Being, one that would need a running start, to boot.

The distance was just shy of three meters. And she was wearing unpowered armor.

Not to mention Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk, who was being carried by _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus, with a needle decompression in his chest to ease his tension pneumothorax, a piece of his chipped armor having pieced his chest and punctured his lung along with the round that caused it. Blowjob had a deadline he _didn't_ want to meet.

"We're taking it." Shepard called out, her mind made as she faced the _Normandy_ Ground Team and those they had rescued. "Doc? Patient goes first, but we need something that will get him over in the next minute." Petty Officer Sara Ryder looked to the gap and frowned.

"I can manage that." Doctor Liara T'soni spoke up, the Asari Protheantologist stepping up, her teal face grimy from the prolonged fighting against the Geth, her University of Serrice Expeditionary Uniform dirty and even torn at one cuff. "If we have one Biotic on one side, and then another upon the other side, we can do what is known as a 'Biotic Pass'."

"I have done it before, more than a few times." Professor T'vara nodded her head, looking to the redhead. "I will be on the far side, as that is the more difficult task, something I have more experience with."

"Anyone going to have issues making that jump?" Jannie looked to her crew, and no one spoke up, either because they didn't have issues, or no one wanted to chance going the long way around. "Speak up now, seriously. It's damn near ten Imperial feet across, about two and three-quarters meters."

"Throw a beer on the other side, and I bet we'll double it, Commander!" That was Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach.

"Make mine a whiskey." Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams added to it with a smile, hoisting her Devlon Industries' M-92 Mantis Sniper Platform in her right hand, the buttstock resting on her hip. That had one of the Turian Reservists, _Hasti_ Raminion, chuckling.

"Fuck it, we get back to the _Normandy_ , and I'm telling the Q to crack open the Class Six. I think we've earned a couple of drinks." Lapdance and Ballsack both whooped at that, high-fiving each other while Sara just shook her head, snorting and smiling at the same time. " _Centurion_? Get ready to transfer Blowjob to the good Doctor. Professor? Please don't fall short."

"No worries, Commander." The Matriarch smiled at her as the Asari's blue eyes flickered over to Sara briefly, the only real indication that there was something going on between them, before the Thessian turned upon her heel and began to sprint a good deal faster than a Human Being towards the gap and leapt over it easily, clearing the distance and them some with ease.

"Damn, I didn't know Asari could run that fast or jump that well." Ash pointed out from their position, sounding impressed.

"We're… pretty down the scale physically amongst the unsuited and plantigrades, actually." Ryder admitted wryly, shrugging her shoulders as Williams gaped at her. "Seriously. We're just about weaker than everyone else save the Volus and the Hanar. Not a hundred percent on the Quarians," she looked over to the two Pilgrims, "but likely anything involving legs will blow us out of the airlock since they're digitigrades."

"Serious?" Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard asked, his tone disbelieving. "Like, you're not shitting us, Doc?"

" 'Fraid not." The Corpsman looked sheepish with her answer as her Marines just looked at her as if she had grown a third eyeball. Jannie didn't argue it considering she actually had a decent idea that what Sara said was the actual case, though she didn't actually know the specifics. She certainly wasn't aware that an Asari could leap about like she was in _The Matrix_. "Believe me, I heard it my whole life, and not in a pleasant manner."

"Ouch." Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko winced as Doctor Liara T'soni and _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus moved towards the gap, the Turian Reservist handing over Private Holodansk to the Asari Protheantologist. Jannie watched with mild fascination as the Protheantologist grew a bluish corona around her body as she cast her hands towards Blowjob, the Private beginning to hover in the air as Doctor T'soni then guided her hands, and the Private, over the chasm. The N7 held her breath watching as Professor T'vara 'caught' the Private in the same manner, reeling him over towards the other side, gently catching the unconscious Private in her arms with ease.

"They made it look so easy." Ash said, witnessing the act, her tone holding a little bit of resentment in it.

"Trust me, it isn't." Sara replied, Kaidan nodding his head, surprising the Corpsman. "Wait, you're Biotic, too?"

"Yes." The LT replied, nodding his head. "An L2."

"Soooo bringing the B-Game." Sara smirked, and Jannie chuckled. Poor Kaidan was going to get his ass handed to him. "You play, right?"

"We can flirt later." Urdnot Wrex shoved his way to the front, charging ahead and making the leap over the chasm, T'soni and Linaseus both moving out of the way quickly as Wrex soared over the gap with ease, landing with a resounding thud upon the catwalk. It unfortunately came with an additional sound; that of snapping metal.

"Shit." Seaman Murphy struck again. Wrex was just too heavy, and he had added velocity to his mass upon his landing, going over the catwalk's tolerance. No doubt the snapping noise was one of the support struts giving way. "Go, go, go!" Jannie shouted as Professor T'vara threw one of Blowjob's arms over her shoulders and dragged him away as Doctor T'soni and _Centurion_ Linaseus took a couple of steps back and made to vault over the gap, clearing it easily as the other two Turian Reservists, Raminion and Contenus, shot forward and jumped next a few seconds later. The catwalk groaned with those landings. "Pilgrims, go!" Jannie ordered as both Quarian girls darted like gazelles and made the leap next, jumping as far as T'vara had. Well, Shepard guessed that answered the question about Quarian leaping abilities. "Detective, Zevin." Vakarian 'hmm'ed' at that as he went right along with the Salarian Reconnaissance Agent, the Turian landing further than the Not-Dalatrass, but Raeka certainly having at least a meter of room past the gap, no issues there.

"Ash, Kai, go!" They were nearly through the ground team as the Colonial Soldier and Navy Lieutenant went next, making the jump at full speed ahead. Kaidan almost didn't make it, landing with one foot on the catwalk but leaning backwards, arms pinwheeling as Williams, who landed just past the edge, reached back and grabbed his armor gorget and pulled him forward. _Shit,_ Kaidan had heavier armor and gear due to his EOD equipment and almost didn't make it. "Marines! Go!" Bra and Lapdance were first, both sprinting and leaping over the gap, Private First Class Holland Hoss giving off a wild yell in mid-air as both Private and PFC landed on the platform with ease. Next went Lance Corporal Hong Jeong and Private First Class Oblong Ubantu, K-Pop and the Kenyan dashing forward and making the jump. K-Pop struggled for a second as Broussard grabbed one of his hands and yanked him forward. Just three left as everyone cleared the platform as Jannie nodded to Sara and Ballsack as both Petty Officer and Private ran forward and leapt, the shorter woman landing slightly further ahead than the male Marine as the catwalk creaked again. _My turn for the Matrix leap,_ the N7 snorted as she wished for her jump jet, knowing that it wouldn't work anyhow like the rest of her armor thanks to the fucking Geth. Shepard took a few steps back, sprinting the ten meter distance hard as she bounded as hard and as far as she could over the gap that contained hot liquid death below.

The redhead landed onto the platform with an Imperial foot to spare.

Jannie stood up from her landing crouch to see Sara's smiling face ahead of her as the Commander gave one in return, the obstacle defeated and one step closer to home when the sound of another snap had their attention downward as the catwalk groaned in protest.

And the catwalk snapped off of the rock wall, falling away from its connecting brother, taking the Commander with it.

* * *

Author's Note: I know what you're saying right now; _you motherFUCKER_. See final author's note at the end.

In Mass Effect 1, the Codex mentions that there are, in fact, dozens of races in existence, observed by the Council. I think I even have Sara mentioning it once (but since I've written about seven concepts for this story, I can't remember if it was this particular story!) that the Citadel hosts something like thirty-nine species, though most only are just Space Flight, traveling only from their planet (like ourselves now-a-days) and several being pre-FTL, only ruling a system or perhaps the Local Neighborhood. I am including the fact that there is a list of Observed Races who haven't broached the 'barrier' for inclusion or were deemed not ready, like the Yahg and likely the Raloi.

The Thexder Pistol - I mention that Liara is armed with a Thexder, which I stole from Dara's Asari Wiki (yet another source I use for ME-related intel). Thexder is in fact an old-school run-and-shoot game that was a precursor to games like Contra. It was created by Game Arts, and sold to Square/Square Enix.

The TST Duel-Staged Linear Motor Rifle 'ChemRail' - Completely and utterly stolen from the movie _Elysium_. It is a weapon in which rounds are propelled with chemical accelerants (gunpowder) and then accelerated with electromagnetic rails (weeeeeee!) to create a hypervelocity rifle that can and will break through shields and armor in a Mass Effect setting. Deemed 'BlackTech' by the Council of Law.

The Genophage - The thing about the wailing cries was me to insert some sympathy for the Krogan. The Genophage didn't sterilize them; it punished them horribly. It wasn't like they went from breeding like rabbits to only having one or two; there was a pile of dead babies. That's pretty fucking cold blooded.

Red Wings - Yes, it does involve orally pleasuring a woman during her period, getting 'red wings' on either side of your mouth. We can thank the Hells' Angels Motorcycle Club for this graphic designation, along with a dozen others sporting other feats of sexuality, ranging from ethnic to just plain disgusting.

Shiagur - Nakmor Shiagur was one of the last fertile females during the Krogan Rebellions, a warlord that continued the fight after the other Clans had given up, broken and depopulated. I don't remember what planet her last stand was on, but according to Codex, the Turians responsible for her defeat and death were hunted down and killed by remaining Krogan, and anyone said to be a part of her bloodline are venerated, 'the Blood of Shiagur'. The Genophage, btw, didn't _end_ the Rebellion, but it was the death bell. Having it last another eighty years makes sense since… well… the Krogan aren't the brightest crayons in the box.

Total Party Kill - I'm old school Pen-and-Paper Dungeon and Dragons, AD+D 2nd Ed. A Total Party Kill is when you go string up the Game Master for being a dick.

The Turian _Talon_ \- A Canon weapon that only appears once in the Codex (somewhere in the Turian entry), it is said to be a _thirty_ centimeter weapon. That… is ten inches. Now, for those that aren't knife Gurus, a blade is normally shorter than its handle, thus a Talon would likely be 4-5 inches long. Turians are taller than Humans, so I can't see them carrying a melee weapon that would be so… small. So I doubled the size, and made it curved like a talon or a claw, much like their fingers. The honor portion is equate to the Samurai _katana_ or the Dothraki's braid.

 _Sepikku_ \- The act of honorable suicide, once practiced by Samurai who had been defeated in battle or shamed so greatly that death was the more honorable path. As far as I'm aware, the Japanese are the only culture that sees suicide in a positive light (mind you, I'm not talking explosive martyrdom).

Turian Special Forces - The term 'Special Forces' is just a general term to denote 'specialized' forces over 'regular' forces (grunts like I was). The Blackwatch will be the equivalent of the US Army Rangers; Elite Infantry Commandos amongst a highly-militant race. Fill in _those_ blanks.

LightSpeed - A futuristic energy drink that I stole from Dead Space 2 (seen as an advertisement on the Sprawl). In my version of Mass Effect, caffeine and caffeinated drinks (such as sodas, coffees, caffeinated teas, and energy drinks) are uniquely Human, are one of Earth's contributions to the greater galaxy, and wildly popular. Like in A Fox Amongst The Wolves, there will be Starbucks on the Cit. They're fucking everywhere! #FivebucksCoffee

SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! - Orkish Battle Cry, circa 40,000 A.D. Don't forget to order blood for the Blood God, too.

Ammo Block - Anyone that's been in the military knows that the military names things… stupidly, and usually backwards. I kid you not, there's a radio with the item description of Receiver/Transmitter, Signal, Device, Military. Like… there's some poor Lieutenant sitting in the basement of the Pentagon whose job it is to name shit with pronouns, and he's having his revenge by coming up with the dumbest descriptions ever. Someone has to write all those TM's, FM's, PAM's, and AR's/NR's. Probably some Air Force Officer that can't fly a plane. So I came up with my own stupid name for the Ammo Block.

Electronic Assassination - We've done it so many times to the enemy; overload their shields, sabotage their guns, left them sitting ducks. I made it to where Shepard suffered the same tactic, mostly VI Invasion, Hacking, and Sabotage. Had you worried, right?

For some of my long-term fans and readers of my previous works, you might recall that I have a propensity in 'killing' off my main characters. I did it to 1st Lieutenant Janey Shepard in _Mass Effect vs. Aliens 2: Valkyrie Rising_ in Chapter 10: Every Breath You Take, having her choke to death in space, Major Jennifer Hale in _The Hale/Meer Chronicles: The Vanguard Effect_ in Chapter 28: Meer, Overload, having her suffer an epileptic seizure and Acute Kidney Distress from the Prothean Beacon and being shot, and with Deputy Samantha Collins in _Where The Law Stands Tall_ in Chapter 9: Revan, IX when Sam took a Batarian shotgun to the gut during a hostage situation and ended the chapter mid-sentence. I had one reader beg me not to kill Sam, like, literally beg.

I am _not_ that much of a bastard. Just keep reading, true believer.


	10. Fall Of The House Of Therum, V

_Because you don't have a grenade launcher, lady._

 **Dig Site Alpha, Therum, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 15, 2183**

Commander Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST Agent), felt her gullet drop as the supporting catwalk under her feet broke off from the rockface wall it was bolted to, the connecting structural supports tying it to the rest of the catwalk having snapped off as the broken piece of equipment dropped from beneath her feet, gravity taking over. She only had the briefest moment to see Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder's face grow with alarm as Jannie looked downward to the massive pool of lava hundred of meters below at the bottom of a chasm; her next destination. She didn't even have time to yell, much less say goodbye as she fell, fell, fell.

But only about a meter or so.

The N7 felt herself jerk to a stop as her left shoulder flared in burning pain as her arm was held above her, the rest of her dangling over the chasm and burning death as Jannie looked down at her delayed demise, feet touching only air and paddling against nothing as the redhead turned to look up, to see what had stopped her fall.

" _Gotcha_. _"_

"Sara!" Jannie cried out, elated and fearful at what she was seeing as she looked up at Sara Ryder, dangling over the ledge of the catwalk with her left hand gripping the supporting strut of the guardrail on the open-air side of the still-connected catwalk while her right hand gripped Jannie's left wrist. God, _Sara_ was dangling too, having abandoned sense and reason and had recklessly thrown herself over the side to catch her, to arrest her fall. The Corpsman was holding on by one hand, her face tight and her eyes wincing as she bit her lower lip, straining hard. Jannie's left hand gripped Sara's right wrist, panting as ice water flooded the redheads' veins.

She had just cheated death, thanks to her friend. Again.

"C-climb!" Sara spat out through clenched teeth, wincing hard. "Shoulder's… dislocated!" Jannie's eyes went wide with the information as she saw Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams appear over the ledge of the remaining catwalk, lying upon its surface as her hands reached downward to grab the grip handle behind the gorget of Ryder's' Sirta Foundation Phoenix Light Medic Armor, giving the Corpsman relief from the strain as the Colonial Soldier nodded to Jannie, indicating that she was ready. "Do it!" Sara shouted, her face a mask of agony.

The N7 grunted as she pulled herself up in a one-handed pull-up, Sara screaming in pain as Jannie's right hand went up and grabbed above Sara's elbow, the armor just bulky enough to provide the least amount of support as Jannie began to climb her friends' arm like a rope. Right hand gripping hard, Jannie pulled herself up and reached out with her left, gripping around the back of Sara's neck as the young woman bit her lower lip, obviously biting off another scream as the N7 climbed higher, hoisting herself up using Sara's elbow and neck as purchase. Jannie was face-to-face with Sara, the younger woman's featured wrapped in pain as her blue eyes looked into Shepard's, and Jannie knew that no matter the pain, Sara would never let go. The N7 gave her friend a quick smile of gratitude as she held onto Sara's neck, reaching her left arm out to grab the catwalks' floor grate, her gauntleted fingers slipping into the holes as the Commander held onto the catwalk, letting go with her right hand to take the weight off of Sara, swinging up so that both hands were holding on.

"Ash! Pull her up!" Jannie called out, feeling sweat building up on her face from the heat in the cavern from the lava below. _Don't look down_ , Jannie thought to herself as she watched the Colonial Soldier pull upward as Sara assisted the best she could, Williams' hands pulling up first on Ryder's' combat handle placed at the top of her backpiece, and then reaching down to grab underneath her good arm to haul her back over onto the catwalk as Jannie did a pull-up in her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Battle Armor, getting her chin above the flooring before shifting her weight and grip to push herself up even higher, getting herself waist-high. _All those Ultimate Pull-ups are paying off now_ , the N7 though as she leaned forward and reached forward to pull herself onto the catwalk, rolling onto it with a relieved sigh as she laid upon her back, looking around to see Sergeant Williams helping the Petty Officer onto her feet. Thank God Sara was okay.

"Let's get off this death trap." Jannie ordered as she got onto her own feet, helping Ash escort Sara, whose left arm was dangling, her face wincing as she walked forward. Everyone else was waiting upon bedrock where the catwalk led, having wisely stayed away to keep from adding too much weight onto the compromised constructed platform, The redhead could see everyone watching on, the five conscious Systems Alliance Marines all smiles as they watched their Doc come back.

"Fuckin' _Semper Fi_ , Doc." Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard called out, thwacking his fist to his heart twice in respect.

"Toughest bitch in the galaxy." Lance Corporal Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss announced, shoulder-checking Private First Class Oblong Ubantu beside him, the dark-skinned Marine known as 'the Kenyan' nodding in complete agreement, as were Lance Corporal Kong 'K-Pop' Jeong and Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach. Doc was usually the nickname given to a Fleet Marine Corpsman, but when one of _those_ earned a nickname? Above and beyond even their own heroic contemporaries.

"Don't feel so tough right now." Sara piped up as everyone stood in the tunnel, wincing as she held her right hand to her left shoulder. "Pretty sure I tore something, too."

"We've got a Med Bay and a hella good Surgeon up on the _Normandy_." Shepard told her friend. "But first?

" _Thank you_."Jannie embraced the smaller woman, holding her fiercely out of complete gratitude as she held onto Ryder with both arms, touching her forehead to Sara's. "You saved my life, Sara. _Again_." The redhead stared into her friends' blue eyes, willing her to know just how much Shepard appreciated her. There wasn't words in Standard Alliance English invented yet to verbalize what Sara had done, how utterly _thankful_ Jannie was. She could and very much would have been dead due to a broken fucking catwalk if it hadn't been for Sara's quick thinking, quicker reflexes, and utter lack of concern to her own life and safety in the name of saving another. Jannie had worked with N Corpsman in the Teams, but none of them, _none of them_ , had ever done something like that. Not that she had ever seen, not that she had ever heard of.

"That's what family is for, Auntie." Sara replied weakly, her voice tinged in pain as her smile was mixed with a grimace. "I'm almost afraid to have it set, but having it dangle won't help, either." She looked over to Williams. "Can you reach into my Aid Bag and grab me two slings?"

"Absolutely." There was no mistaking the sound of Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams' voice, the Colonial Soldier who had been serving on Eden Prime sounding a touched awed. The Systems Alliance Colonial Army had their own battlefield health care providers, Combat Medics, who were seen in the same light as Fleet Marine Corpsmen. Ash had talked about her previous Medic, one Corporal Shane McAllister, who had pulled no less than five wounded Soldiers out of the line-of-fire when the 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment were fighting the Geth. The Medic had died of his wounds rescuing the fifth Soldier, but only after getting the man to safety. Upon hearing the story, Commander Jane Shepard had filled out a Recommendation for Commendation, writing out an award for a Silver Star for Corporal McAllister. His actions had saved lives, if temporarily, and who was to say it wasn't because of his actions that Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams was still alive? Ash went for Sara's magnetically-locked Aid Bag on her back and popped opened the hardcase backpack, the device unfolding as the Soldier quickly found two nylon-crafted slings. Williams closed the Aid Bag before moving over to Ryder, looping the first sling under her left forearm and tying it behind her neck to take the weight off her shoulder, and then taking the second sling and wrapping it high around her left bicep before tying it under her right armpit to immobilize it. "Sure you don't want to pop it back into place?"

"Pretty damn certain I tore some ligaments. Popping it back will only make it worse." The Corpsman replied as she checked Ash's work, Jannie watching on, impressed with the Soldier's speed and knowledge. "You do good work, Staff Sergeant."

"Just Sergeant, I ain't a Marine." There was a bite of humor there as Sara snorted and Jannie chuckled. "Now we can get moving. Need an escort, Doc?"

"I shall provide." Professor Irissa T'vara spoke up, approaching the Humans. "I am a former Sister Hospitaller, and we may need the more offensive weapons able and capable, Sergeant Williams." That had the Soldier nod, while the redhead tried not to smirk at the situation, she being the only one that knew that Irissa and Sara were seeing each other.

"Good call, Professor." The N7 nodded, looking to Sara for a moment, thinking _I was suppose to return the favor, kiddo_. Still, she had brought Sara and her forces from the depths of this hellhole, and that sat well with her. "Let's get topside folks, so we can call our ride and get the fuck outta Dodge."

* * *

It took them another ten minutes to emerge from the cave system of the Prothean ruins and onto the surface of Therum as Commander Jane Shepard stood upon the craggy surface, feeling the heat hit her like a boxing glove despite being sealed in her Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Battle Armor. With all of her software suites completely and maliciously infected and shutoff by the Geth, her temperature control was offline as well, and the fifty-two degree Celsius/one hundred and twenty-five degree Fahrenheit temperature was baking her alive, slowly but surely. Without her thermal regulators on, she'd probably sweat to death in half-an-hour or so. Still, she was petter off than Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk, who had a needle decompression in his chest for his tension pneumothorax, not to mention his collapsed lung and bullet in his chest. She remembered well how much her own had hurt from Elysium.

"Lieutenant Alenko? I need you to contact the _Normandy_ and coordinate a pick-up of twenty sapients, with one urgent litter-carry team awaiting in the cargo bay for surgical prep." Jannie ordered the Engineer, who nodded in compliance as he queued up his Ariake Technologies' Logic Arrest OmniTool to open up the encrypted channel with the SSV _Normandy_ since Shepard's was currently a paperweight attached to her left wrist. She was literally going to have to replace everything of hers, though thankfully she had back-ups of all her software and VI management suites, losing only the telemetry of this particular mission. She was going to have to purge, reset, and reformat _everything_. That was going to be a complete pain in the ass. "God, I could kill for a Tupari or a Paragade right about now."

" _Auntie."_ Petty Officer Sara Ryder moved by her side, her left arm hitched up in a sling and immobilized, and used her right hand to disengage a secondary hose from her Sirta Foundations' Phoenix Light Medic Armor and inserted it into a port just above Jannie's left hip. _"Here, we can share environmentals."_

"Thanks, kiddo." Jannie could already feel a little bit of relief as Sara's environmental control from her armor adapted to her own suit, blowing cooler air into her sealed environment. "It would probably only drop the temperature a dozen degrees, but that was more than enough.

" _Geez, Doc. 'Quarian Fucking' the Lion, now?"_ Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach announced over his vox, making Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss snicker.

" _WHAT?"_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay and Tali'Zorah choired at the same time, both Quarians rounding upon the Marine in question as the purple-suited Quarian put her three-fingered fists in her hips and stood in a position that suggested she was about to give Ballsack a piece of her mind, while the blue-suited Quarian put her hand on the hilt of a Migrant Fleet Marine All-Purpose OmniBlade, ready to pull and activate.

" _Nice, Ballsack."_ Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams deadpanned as the Private lifted his hands and waved them quickly in a 'no, no, no' fashion, taking a step back as he realized his _faux paus_. _"It's not what you think, Pilgrims. It's when someone shares environmentals or an air supply due to emergency situations, and some genius decided to call it 'Quarian Fucking' and the name stuck. I assume that the Quarians do something similar to get that label."_

" _It's called 'Linking Suits', and it's a very personal, very respectful show of trust and commitment."_ Tali described, the scorn in her voice bleeding through her EnviroSuit's vox. Her faceplate turned to Jannie and Sara, the silvery sheen that Shepard always assumed were her eyes (or the digitally placed representations of her eyes) looking at the both of them. _"What they are doing would be a good approximate; two people who are quite close, like family. It is in fact what one does for another to accept them as family."_ The N7 didn't miss how Tali's helmeted head looked over briefly towards Niki'Raan. Well, they did call each other 'cousins', though Jannie had never actually asked if they were blood-related or not. Neither she nor Sara were related at all, and yet they had been family for years. Perhaps Tali and Niki were the same, working together on their Pilgrimage.

" _I'd apologize for the Private's lack of intelligence,"_ Sara began, _"but chances are he'll open his mouth and insert his foot in again."_ Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard snickered at that while Lance Corporal Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu merely snorted in agreement. _"Feel free to smack him upside his head from time to time. Perhaps he'll learn manners. Right, Private?"_

" _Aye aye, Doc!"_ Ballsack's tone said it all; he was in trouble, and he was going to say whatever was needed to get him out of hot water. It was a good thing there was a tube tether between Sara and herself, otherwise Jannie might have sauntered over and throttled the little shit herself for such a disrespectful comment. She hadn't actually worked with a platoon of Marines in… five or so years, ever since she graduated from Rio. Sometimes the term 'Jarhead' wasn't just a nickname.

" _Commander? I raised Lieutenant Commander Pressly,_ " Alenko called out, lowering his OmniTool-encased left arm, _"and they should be on-station in the next hour. There are Geth elements in orbit, so they will be approaching from the equator and coming in low to avoid detection."_

"Alright. We can move to the MAKO and prep it for extraction." Shepard looked to _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus. "Top priority is Blowjob. We get him to the MAKO to further stabilize him until we clear planet. We can rotate the escort team as needed. How far are we from the Dig Site entrance, Professor?"

" _Approximately two kilometers, Commander, almost all of it downhill."_ They were standing on a small shelf that was upon the slope of an inactive volcano, the Protheans using geothermal generators to keep the facility powered for fifty thousand years. That… was mind-boggling. There wasn't anything in Mankind that was made by Human hands that was that old save for some arrowheads or perhaps some mummified remains. A fifty thousand year old facility that was still operation? Shepard was in awe, and the geek in her wanted to pull components and see what worked! Perhaps in another life, she would have been a Paleontechnologist. She loved tech.

" _No worries, I'll get your man down there."_ Linaseus replied, nodding his fringed head, seemingly fine with Therum's heat. Actually, the Asarikin didn't look perturbed by it, either.

"Alright! Let's get this movable feast on the road! Williams and Vakarian, take point. Wrex and Raeka, I need you for rear guard."

* * *

They reached Dig Site Alpha in good time and with no issues, thankfully. Commander Jane Shepard was glad to see that the General Dynamics' M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle was still parked 'behind' the Marine Barracks on the outside of the defensive position, not having been damaged or absconded by the Geth. She would have to make sure that the systems and the sub-systems weren't altered or carrying malicious code by the synthetic race before letting it board the SSV _Normandy_. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko would be a good choice for that along with the Quarian Pilgrims. While she wasn't exactly thrilled with the thought of two non-Humans going through the various software suites of the APV, it was a damn sight better than having an infected sub-system or finding a BotNet installed and creating a DDoS attack on the _Normandy_. The easiest thing to do would be to purge the systems' databanks and do a hard-reboot with a boot drive, or re-install with a previous missions' perimeters. Thankfully, the MAKO had enough hardware-operated systems that it could at least drive without any computer assistance.

"Team? Set up shop in the Barracks for the time being. Let's risk as little exposure time as possible." Jannie ordered as the many members of the ground team nodded and complied with the easy order as Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard went to the door first, ready to open it. "Marine? Sweep and clear, first. We haven't had eyes-on in over two hours."

" _Understood, Commander."_ Broussard shouldered his Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifle as the four other Marines stacked up behind him immediately, patting each other in a 'ready' order going from first man to last, and then being returned from last man to fire in a 'go' order, silent but effective. As soon as Brasserie was tapped, the Private opened the door while Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach breeched into the building, being followed by PFC Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, Lance Corporal Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu, and then Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong before Brasserie entered last; a text-book Urban Assault Battle Drill known as 'Six Alpha'. The five Marines disappeared in through the entryway, filing past the fatal funnel of the door way as they cleared the Barracks of any possible hostiles as Jannie watched on, satisfied that the Marines knew the basics without any apparent issues. Urban Ops and Vessel Ops were the Marine Corps bread-and-butter, and at the very least they were trained to expectation. A few seconds after their breach, she could hear their voices calling out _all clear_ to indicate that the Barracks was safe to enter. If they were going to sit tight, then the N7 wanted to be out of physical exposure with something resembling cover and concealment.

"Williams? You and Vakarian provide overwatch." Jannie ordered, looking to the Colonial Soldier and Rapid Response Sniper, both of them nodding in compliance. "Alenko? I want you and the Pilgrims to purge and reformat the MAKO's data drives and anything else that can store a code. I don't need Geth stowaways on my Frigate." She got three nodding heads, everyone working together in tandem, the Commander reminding them who the real enemy was. The team she had assembled was looking pretty sharp, and she had been impressed so far with her eclectic crew. "Wrex? I want you and Raeka to do a quick search-and-sweep of the area, but keep it close and tight. I'm not asking for trouble, but I don't want anything coming in without us knowing about it. Everyone else, infill into the Barracks and prepare for quick extraction."

" _Auntie?"_ Sara's voice was quiet and subdued, waiting for everyone else to get out of earshot as the Corpsman looked to her, her visored eyes looking into her own.

" _What about the bodies of my Marines?"_

 _Fuck._ This was one conversation that Jannie didn't want to have. Ever.

"Sara…" She couldn't lie to her, this woman she had known since she was literally born, holding Sara in her hands for the first time when she was less than an hour old, little Jane Shepard in awe of how tiny babies could be. Sara had saved her life _twice_ now, without any deniability; first on Elysium, and now on Therum. Memories of the young woman in front of her as a child flooded in, the perpetual effervescent little girl who was all smiles and questions, who looked up to Jannie since she was a child. Whenever Mom was shipping out for deployments for six months at a time for routine patrols out in the black, Jannie had often stayed with the Ryder's because kids weren't allowed on military patrols, living on the Citadel of stretches at a time while her mother, Rear Admiral (lower half) Hannah Mallory Shepard commanded whatever department or position she happened to be in at the time. All told, Jannie had probably lived with Alec and Ellen Ryder for almost five years of her life, not to include visits, short stays, and whatever came up. Sara had always seen Jane as a sort of surrogate older sister, someone she looked up to, someone she wanted to be when she grew up. She had been 'Auntie' since Sara was three and she twelve.

Telling her the truth about what happened to Red Platoon was going to break the young woman's heart.

"Sara," Jannie began, her heart heavy, "they… they weren't just killed in action." She could already see Sara's blue eyes blink at that, processing the information. "I didn't tell you earlier because we were still in the Dig Site, and getting everyone out was top priority. I'm sorry that I didn't want to burden you with it at the time, but…" Jannie slipped a hand on to the shorter woman's armored pauldron, holding her shoulder in comfort and sympathy. "We found out the hard way on Eden Prime. The Geth… did something to them. Something bad."

" _M-mutilation?"_ There was a hitch in her throat, her mind going to the worst place she could think of; bodily desecration. There really wasn't much worse of a crime in a Human's mind than to defile the body of a loved one. Jannie wish that she didn't know better.

"Worse, Sara. Far far worse."

Ryder just looked at her, her blue eyes wide, threatening tears. Those Marines… they were _hers_. Sara had busted her ass at the _honor_ of standing amongst them, to protect them and see to them as both Corpsman and as a kind, caring, considerate Human Being. She had spend _years_ working herself towards this goal, from her days volunteering as a Citadel Emergency Medical Services Paramedic working on a Skybulance, the first Human to have ever done so, to applying the same stalwart dedication in the Field Medical Training Battalion to earn not only the illustrious Fleet Marine Force Hospital Corpsman Insignia, but to be one of those dedicate few. She wasn't some kid who joined the Systems Alliance Marine Corps and was merely assigned the platoon. She wasn't some Navy Corpsman who got the short straw for a Marine Deployment, some Dispensary scrub handing over anti-inflammatory and MoleSkin to bellyaching Privates. No, Sara Elaine Ryder _fought_ for the position, for the honor, to stand beside those Marines and say _these are my Marines; I will look out for them, I will live among them, I will protect them, I will die for them, as they would die for me_. It wasn't a surprise that FMF Corpsmen who were selected for Villa Militar did well in the N-Courses, that dedication having already existed inside of them long before being recognized for the heroes that they were. It wouldn't surprise Jannie at all that one day, perhaps in a year or so, Sara would have a matching stripe running down her own right arm, the same that she herself had.

But now? Now Jannie was going to have to tell this young woman, her surrogate little sister, the girl who looked up to her _her_ whole life, the very ugly truth.

Heartbreaking didn't even cover it.

"I…" Jannie felt her own voice hitch in her throat, remembering when she had discovered it herself on Eden Prime, when Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams saw her own Soldiers exchanged. The horror of it was… there wasn't any explanation, just utter _evil_ , beyond anything anyone had ever thought of or considered. The only real comparison was… well, the _Star Trek_ series, the Borg turning people into themselves though nanite injections. There was a word for it; _assimilation_. "Sara… they killed your men. And then… then they took their bodies and… impaled them on these devices we've come to call 'Dragon's Teeth'…" Jannie gripped Sara's shoulder hard, half out of sympathy, but half out of the fact she needed the strength herself. "They… assimilate them. Like the Borg."

" _N-N-No…"_ Sara's tone was pure pain, pure disbelief. Jannie gripped both of her shoulders as the Corpsman looked at her, not wanting to believe her; wishing anything else. _"NO!"_ Jannie brought her in, wrapping her arms around the shorter woman as Sara cried, holding her tight as the pain and grief came. _"NoNoNo!"_ Sara had balled up her fists and was striking at her chestplate, rage and horror mixing together. Jannie… had seen this before with Ash, had held her then too as the Staff Sergeant had a temporary breakdown. She hadn't blamed or corrected Ash at all despite the danger of it on the battlefield, just like she wasn't going to blame Sara for it now, the danger less severe on Therum, unlike Eden Prime. _"W-why! Why would they do that! Wasn't dropping a thousand platforms on us enough! Those were_ good _men! WHY!"_

"To hurt us."

That was the cold truth of it; the geometry of battle, the price of war. In the Villa, the Instructors _hammered_ candidates that it would be N's that would make the kinds of ruthless decisions that most would never understand in the name of Humanity. It wasn't evil, it wasn't even despicable. One fought wars to _win_ , and it was a no-holds-barred contest. The victor wasn't always the one who had the biggest army, the best tech, or willing to go the extra kilometer. No, the victor was the one with the mentality to do _whatever it fucking took_ to win; the precise strike, the best tactics, the worst attrition. War was beyond terrible, but one had to do terrible things to avoid worse calamities in the future. The Blitz had taught her that all too well.

" _I… I need to see."_ Sara said softly, her eyes opening up to look at Jannie, the pain still there, but with resolve. _"Their dog tags, at the very least, Auntie. I owe them that much."_

"You are sure? What you see… it's beyond anything you can ever imagine in your worst nightmare." Jannie was doing her best to prepare her friend, to make Sara understand what she was asking. Mere words would never convey it, but Shepard wanted Ryder to understand what she was asking. "They're… not really Human anymore, I'm afraid. And we had to gun them down when they attacked us. Just like we had to do with Sergeant Williams' platoon when they were assimilated."

" _They… would have done it for me if the situation were reversed."_ Sara replied, her tone emotional; pain mixed with grief. _"I respect you are trying to ease me or let me down gently, Auntie, but I need to see. Next time might… I might not be prepared."_

"Okay. I'll take you and help you collect your men's dog tags." She wasn't about to let the Corpsman do this alone; Jannie would be there for her, just as she always had been. "If I can make a suggestion?

"Take Ash."

" _We'll ask her first, but… okay."_ Sara queued up her SquadCom on her radio, and Jannie only heard her half of the conversation, being without comms herself. Ash evidently agreed to it, and Detective Garrus Vakarian was asked to overwatch them as they went into the Dig Site Proper. The Commander didn't want her to do this; the _big sister_ in her didn't want her little Sara to do this, making worse a trauma that was likely already there. Yet if it had been Sara? Jannie would have grabbed her dog tags, no matter what personal cost or trauma she would suffer. The N7 had carried Corporal Richard Jenkins' dog tags through the entirety of the mission on Eden Prime on the principle of giving them to his parents as some form of honorable apology. Now they hung over her bunk on the _Normandy_ , no one else to go to with Patrick and Melissa Jenkins dead. They were a mute reminder that becoming a Council Agent had its costs, a silent promise to that young Marine who had to watch his home _burn_ that she wouldn't stop until that fucking Turian was gurgling in a pool of his own blood, struggling to breath his last.

There were thirty-three names she needed to carve into Saren Arterius' chest; thirty-two Marines… and the Turian murdered and betrayed by a man he had called _brother_.

* * *

Commander Jane Shepard let off a sigh as she watched the deployment ramp of the SSV _Normandy_ closed, the hellish view of Therum disappearing from sight as she felt the ship tremble in the gravity of the planet as it began to accelerate, gaining altitude and distance as the Frigate-Class vessel began to achieve escape velocity, the decking vibrating under her feet as the ship pulled G's, counteracted for the personnel thanks to the sophisticated inertia dampeners installed on the state-of-the-art spacecraft.

" _Commander, we will achieve exfill of Therum's atmosphere in three minutes with the tentative location of the systems' inner-asteroid belt in ETA eight minutes until we can ascertain the location of any Geth activity between Therum and the Relay. Current telemetry suggests that Third Fleet should be in-system within the next forty-five minutes."_ Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly's voice came over the ships' intercom system in the cargo bay as the M35 MAKO APV ticked from dethermalization after being powered down. Commander Karin Chakwas (MD) and Able Seaman Linda Basheer had taken Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk to the Med Bay on the Main Deck on a contragravity hovergurney, placed there by _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus and escorted with Petty Officer Sara Ryder in tow, her left arm still slung after her injury catching Jannie. With the MAKO turned off after a systems' hard reboot, everyone else involved on he mission was in the cargo bay, talking and grabbing ass for the most part; the thrill and the stress leaking away now that they were in the confines of a metal hull and flying away from the Dig Site. Jannie gave them a minute or two to get it out of their system before addressing them.

"Alright, folks! Listen up!" Shepard called out, her voice ringing loud and true inside the Cargo Bay, seeing eighteen pairs of eyes looking towards her as she got everyone's attention. "I know not everyone's military, and not everyone's Alliance, so I'll make it quick so you can clean up and grab some food. First order of business is disarming, taking off armor and securing weaponry. This is a military vessel, and only the ships' Security Force has authority to be armed. I'll have extra storage lockers brought in for personal equipment, but it must be properly secured. Once that is done, the next two hours will be devoted to _personal_ maintenance. Showers, food, getting wounds checked, taking a power nap, all for you. The two hours after that is personal equipment maintenance, be it weapons, armor, 'Tools… whatever you need for the mission or your personal Chain-of-Command. Clean, fix, repair, I'm have the Quartermaster bring out the 'Gels and the cleaning supplies, but all equipment maintenance is done in the Cargo Bay. After that is what we call the After-Action Review. Everyone on mission, and I do mean _everyone_ , will meet here in," Jannie went to pull up her chronometer on her OmniTool, and remembered that it was completely shutdown, sighing.

"It's 1521 Zulu, Skipper." Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams piped up, obviously knowing what Jannie wanted.

"1930 _Normandy_ Time." Shepard nodded to the Army Non-Com in thanks. "AAR's are about highlighting the positives, rectifying the negatives, and adapting training, tactics, and procedures for the next confrontation. For those who were on Therum, you're input will be just as valuable as ours, since you had eyes-on for the longest, and saw more. Everything you've seen and everything you add is one more way we beat the Geth, one less casualty, one more level of preparation. Use the time beforehand to review all that you seen, all that you did, what worked and what didn't. If you miss it, you'd had best be in surgery, otherwise that's _exactly_ where you'll end up when I'm done with you. Dismissed."

Jannie noted that Ash lit up a small cigar after the order, making her smile and shake her head at the sight, while everyone dispersed to get out of their armor and lock up their weapons, Petty Officer (Second Class) Paul Simmons having pulled out a couple of basic weapons racks and armor racks for the time being so everyone could get cleaned up and some food. Thankfully, they actually had some dextro-chiliary rations thanks to Detective Garrus Vakarian, the Rapid Response Unit Sniper knowing where some military-oriented and citizen-oriented rations could be located and picked up on the Cit in a quick fashion. Shepard had ordered a months' worth of supplies for five dextro beings to be on the safe side, and now she was glad to have the foresight to do so. Unfortunately, she didn't really have anything on hand in the means of extra civilian clothing for the Asari or the Turians, whose University of Serrice Expeditionary jumpsuits and workrobes were dirty and torn. The Asari could possibly get away with Ministry of Defense-oriented uniforms, Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniforms without rank or unit affiliation, but the Turians were just shaped too differently.

Jannie took off her damaged and malfunctioning Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Battle Armor after stowing away her hoverturret Bastilia and her battle assistant drone Ghost, wincing at the fact that she would have to reload everything and reconfigure all the settings and combat profiles she had inputted into her combat assistants, a task that would likely take hours. She took off her armor and winced at the backpiece; a total loss. Her fauld, culet, and both tassets were likewise damaged significantly, her hip, lower back/glute, and thigh pieces either somewhat damaged to somewhat melted. While she had a Printing License through Armax Arsenal to create replacement pieces of her Predator Armor, to include the ceramic composition, Newtonian fluid impact-resistant gel, the hardware electronic lines and software chips and processors that came with the schematic, it would take hours to print with high-grade MetalGel, PlastiGel, and CeramiGel. Not to mention that all it would do would be to physically create the pieces, not recreate the modifications and enhancements she had installed in her armor, like her Speedware or Cortana's power efficiency-monitoring system. It would likely take a couple of days to bring her armor back to combat spec. Well, she did have two other pieces of armor tailored to her needs in combat; one suit a Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Heavy Engagement Armor, and the other being Elkoss Combines' Gladiator Heavy Siege Sustainment Armor. Both were in perfect working order with everything ready to go.

Now the choice was… would she dress up as _Iron Man_ , complete with jetpack attached to the back, or as _Deadpool_?

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Jannie disassembled her armor, placing each piece in its proper place as she frowned at the damage done to her MJOLNIR-replica Predator Armor, closing and locking the door with her equipment and weapons stashed away as she suited up in her Alliance Blues, wincing at the feeling in her back from where she had gotten injured earlier. Williams was standing beside her, having taken off her own Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Combat Armor, the Colonial Soldier still puffing at her cigar as she too got dressed. Ash was undoing the bun at the back of her head and shaking out her long raven hair, pulling out a brush and going through it quickly and efficiently before putting it in a simple ponytail, hitting somewhere above the middle of her shoulder blades on her own Alliance Blues. Jannie was struggling a little bit getting her blouse on, and Ash noticed.

"Can you help me out, Army? I'm not walking to the Med Bay in an Underarmor shirt." The Commander asked the woman beside her, Williams moving her hands to slip the BDU blouse up Jannie's arms and over her shoulders gently without trying to aggravate her back. "Ugh. That's just demeaning, having trouble dressing yourself due to wounds."

"Sara's probably going to need help too, with her arm." The Soldier pointed out as she jammed the cigar in her mouth. "Realistically, we got lucky, Skipper. Everyone we met came back alive, and all but one were vertical. That's got to be one for the record books."

"Perhaps not the record books, but your point is made." The Commander replied, sighing. "I just hate the feeling that we arrived too late for the Marines. Like we did with the Twelfth Battalion." Ash didn't need any more explanation than that. It wasn't the fact that the Marines or the Colonial Soldiers had died, though that was bad enough. The _Normandy_ had literally been the first responder in both cases, showing up before anyone else, and as fast as they could. Those losses would have been loses no matter what, every single one of them. No, it was _what_ happened to them; assimilation. Jannie remembered Sara's reaction when she found the bodies of her platoon, the Corpsman sinking to her knees, sobbing bitterly at the sight. Jannie hadn't wanted her to do it, but she logically knew that Sara _needed_ to see, to understand. It didn't ease a broken heart, though. Jannie still had about half-a-dozen dog tags from the members of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, as did Ash, when Ryder's' pocket became too full with the tags of her Marines.

"But you didn't arrive too late, Skipper." Williams replied, conviction in her voice. "Yes, I would love to have any number of my platoon mates alive, or to know that someone from the other units had made it out. But that wasn't the Geth's objective. Their objective was to destroy Constant… and you denied them that. Their objective on Therum was the good Doctor… and you denied them that. Those losses hurt, but the Geth weren't victorious. There are worse things than a bloody victory."

"You're right, Ash." Jannie nodded, knowing that the Soldier was indeed correct. Those losses hurt, but despite them, the crew of the _Normandy_ had been stacking up on victories, both great and small. Saren may or may not have interacted with the Beacon, but Shepard certainly had. The Anti-Matter Warheads set to destroy Constant had been deactivated. Despite Saren's smug asshole routine, she and her crew had gotten the evidence to get his SPECTRE status revoked… and her own approved. Now she had snatched away something he was desperate to acquire, absconded from his very clutches. Every point on her side was one less on his. Sooner or later, the scales would tip in _her_ favor, and that's when Jannie would ram a fucking anti-personnel grenade into whatever served as the Turian's anus. "Seems like we've been running non-stop ever since the attack on Constant. No real Liberty, no real rest, just bouncing from one place to the next, trying to catch up without being able to catch our breath. I think the crew deserves a little celebration for their hard work and dedication."

"Nnnnnow we're talkin'." The colony-born woman smiled around her cigar, wiggling her eyebrows. "I can foresee an inter-service drinking competition between Army, Navy, and Marines. Wait… are any of them old enough to drink?"

"I'm not sure any of them are old enough to have their training wheels taken off." Jannie retorted, making Ash laugh out loud, almost dropping her cigar. "Besides, as long as no one ends up in the Brig or on the Blotter, I look the other way. It's so much funnier when they come staggering back from whatever stupidity ensued."

" _From the whores of Montezuma…_ " Williams began in a tune that was over three hundred years old.

" _To the sluts of Tripoli."_ The redhead continued, knowing of the _other_ anthem of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps, sung in the tune of the Marine Corps Hymn.

" _Went and got drunk as fuck last night…"_

" _And woke up with an STD."_ Ash was cackling out loud now while Jannie grinned from ear-to-ear as they walked towards the service elevator that would take them to the Main and Upper Deck of the _Normandy._

* * *

Commander Jane Shepard walked into the Med Bay, and all good humor was erased.

Upon one of the medical beds was a sheet draped over a body. Sitting in front of it was a Hospital Corpsman with one arm in a sling and tears in her eyes. _Holodansk…_

"The round…" Petty Officer Sara Ryder was sitting there, her body sideways on the fabricated chair she sat in, her eyes on the body in front of her, "the round clipped his aorta." Those blue eyes blinked rapidly as Sara looked up to her, her eyes puffy and red, the sound of her sniffing as the twenty-year old woman grieved. "He was bleeding into his pulmonary cavity, filling his lungs with blood, I… he _drowned_ while I went to recover the dog tags." There was no mistaking the tone; Sara blamed herself.

"Sweetie…" Jannie moved forward, taking a knee in front of Sara as the redhead took Sara's right hand into both of her own, glad that neither Doctor Karin Chakwas or Able Seaman Linda Basheer were here. Sara needed support; personal support, family support. What she needed was her Auntie, and Jannie was going to fulfill that. "Holodansk didn't die because anything that you did or _didn't_ do. You know there isn't a whole lot we can do about internal bleeding, some injuries needing proper surgical attention." Sara just looked at her, but her face… it was blank. She was lost in her grief. This Marine, Private Mikael Holodansk, had been under her direct care. Sometimes, even the best lost sometimes, Surgeons and N7's alike. "You _bought_ him time, Sara." The N7 took Sara's face into her hands gently, her blue eyes going to her own green ones, only focusing slightly. "You didn't give up on him, and you didn't shirk your duties, Corpsman. When he was shot? You were _right there_ , putting your body in between him and the threat. You pulled him out of danger, you got him into cover, and _you did your job_." Sara sniffled again, frowning. "You treated him with all of your skills, you gave him a fighting chance. If we hadn't been under a kilometer of mountain and had to wait another hour due to the Geth in Therum's orbit? He would still be alive _thanks to you_.

"If you blame anyone? Blame the Geth."

Sara looked at her for a long, long moment, but slowly her head began to nod.

"At the least…" Jannie looked to the covered body, seeing how portions poked up where the feet were, silhouetting the frame of a too-young man lying underneath it, "at the least we kept him from the hands of the Geth. His body? It belongs to us. We can send him home properly." Not to mention there wouldn't be a Husk running about ready to rip someone into shreds or tearing limbs and breaking bones. God, how old had Holodansk been? Nineteen? No… likely not. Dead at eighteen, fighting alongside his brothers (and sister) in the Marines. Fucking Goddamn waste, no matter how honorable or heroic. Asking a young man to die for his government and species before he even had a chance to experience life. What _could_ she say? She had applied to the Systems Alliance Military Academy before she turned eighteen, a young woman who had no idea what she would accomplish in the future. Had Blowjob had the same fantasies, to do something heroic and memorable, to impress a parent, to live up to a legacy? Or was he one of those countless many that minorly fucked up Secondary School and came out with a less-than-desirous GPA where it was menial jobs or the Alliance? Had he even kissed a woman before? Or hell, a girl?

"I… never lost anybody on the Cit, you know?" Sara said slowly, her face still a mask of grief, looking at Shepard. "I guess… having Shayla and Alixa there? Kaius flying like a madman to shave precious seconds off a flight time? I guess I felt a little undefeated. Even when Staff Sergeant Brennen had his hose gut during the VBSS breach, I was… on top, ready. I… just happened to be in the right locations. Near help, where help could be had. Not stuck in some fucking cave." Jannie knew Sara was hating herself right now. She knew distantly that Sara had never lost one patient call, but she had been a Skybulance Paramedic working with two Asari Emergency Care Technicians, a Turian Emergency Rescue Technician, a Turian Barber-Surgeon, and a Salarian Trauma Care Specialist. Six sapient beings, trained and dedicated to save lives in a _peaceful_ situation with every piece of equipment on-hand or nearby, a fully-staffed hospital never further than a ten minute flight. But being a Combat Corpsman was different; the best one could hope for was to stabilize a patient, buy them time so they could be extracted by MEDEVAC or CASEVAC. No one would be performing emergency surgery in a firefight, not unless the situation was truly dire. Jannie needed to break Sara out of her funk, to let her know that she _did her job well_.

It was impossible to save everyone, after all.

"Why… why did you guys call him Blowjob?"

Sara looked at Jannie, snorted, and the faintest of smiles came to her lips.

"So… Boot Camp, right?" Sara sniffled a little bit, wiping at her eyes. "Holodansk was assigned to his Boot Camp Platoon, and during his first Liberty, right after Boot Camp, he and a bunch of his boys decide to got terrorize Charlotte, South Carolina. What's the biggest things a bunch of Marines got on their minds?"

"Booze and pussy." The redhead replied with a smirk.

"Booze and pussy." Sara confirmed, nodding. "According to Broussard, who went to Boot with him, Holodansk is talking _mad_ shit about his superior pick-up skills to his buddies, right? Says he can get a girl faster than everyone else." _Men_ , Jannie thought to herself with a snort. They all thought they were a blend of Don Juan and a male porn star. "So they end up in this sleazy little dive bar where his buddies are calling him out, to go hook up. Holodansk, more talk than brains, saunters up to the bartender, thinking the guy's there, he knows the field, right? He knows which girls are the easiest instead of just testing the waters."

"Not bad." It wasn't the dumbest idea in the world. Bartenders probably could tell an easy ride a kilometer off due to experience.

"So," Ryder continued, "he goes up to the bartender and asks him ' _where can I get a blowjob?_ '"

Jannie was already chuckling.

"Bartender replies, ' _well, right here.'_ " The redhead was trying to hold back on the mirth. She was pretty sure she knew how this story was going to end as Sara continued. "Now Holodansk isn't exactly the fastest ship in the fleet, so he thinks, 'wow, the bartender is a pimp, and he's got girls for rent'. So Holodansk asks the bartender ' _how much?_ '

" _Eight credits."_ Sara's even pitching her voice in a _faux_ -manly manner.

"Oh, jeez."

"Now Holodansk is thinking, 'well, eight credits isn't bad, and I technically didn't say I could pick-up a girl faster _for free_ , so I win,' right?" Sara's smiling as her right hand comes up to wipe away a single tear, looking to the body under the sheet. "He's going to roll with it, maybe take some razing, but he thinks he's got this shit in a bag. So he pulls out his BitCred and scans out eight credits." Sara's just shaking her heard, a few more tears joining in. "What does he pay for?

"A shotglass of Bailey's, Kahlua, Amaretto, with whip cream on top."

"Got himself a Blowjob." Jannie rested her hand on Sara's left knee, giving it a comforting squeeze.

The dam of grief finally broke as Sara began to weep, folding in on herself as Jannie took her into her arms, holding her tight as Sara pressed her face against the redhead's breasts and cried hard. She held Sara close, ignoring how much her back hurt when Sara embraced her, her hands accidentally hitting where she had been hurt, Jannie never saying a word. She took the pain; it was only physical. What Sara was going through was much worse, so much more personal. Her Marines were dead, their bodies desecrated. She slowly rocked her friend as Jannie heard Ryder sob, apologizing to the men she had sworn to protect, her words barely intelligible as she wept, the grief taking over. Dislocated shoulder and burnt back forgotten, Commander Jane Shepard held Petty Officer Sara Ryder, the Lion comforting the Angel.

 _I'm here for you, kiddo_ , Jannie thought as she stroked Sara's brunette hair, holding her as she grieved.

 _I'll_ always _be here for you._

* * *

FINE: ARC II: Fall Of The House Of Therum

* * *

 **ARC III: End Of Watch**

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Knossus System, Artemus Tau Cluster, June 15, 2183**

 _Five minutes later…_

Outside the Med Bay, Doctor Karin Chakwas, who had given Petty Officer Ryder privacy when she had called time of death, finally executed her final duty; a call to the _Normandy's_ Executive Officer, Lieutenant Charles Pressly. The bald-headed man received the news with a somber voice as he thanked the Surgeon, ending the call. With a heavy heart, he went to the Captain's Terminal at the CIC and punched in his authorization code, unlocking the terminal as he moved through the INTERCOM folder and found the necessary. Charles took a deep breath, hating the fact that it would need to be pushed, knowing that likely it would not be the last time as his finger touched the holographic icon simply titled 'Eight Bells'.

Throughout the SSV _Normandy_ , the brass peel of a double-struck bell rang over the intercom.

 _Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

The crew of the state-of-the-art _Normandy_ -Class Frigate paused in what they were doing as the sound of the brass bell resounded through the vessel, from bow to stern, from port to 'larboard, from crow's nest to bilge. From the lowest-ranking Seaman aboard the vessel to the ships' Commanding Officer, every Human heart knew what Eight Bells meant. Sailors heard those brass peels as their eyes went to those closest to them, knowing what had occurred. No words were spoken amongst the crew; none were needed. Since the days of the Elizabethan Navy in the Fifteenth Century, Eight Bells always signified the same thing, even five hundred years later in space.

End of Watch.

 _Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

The bells struck once more as silence ran its course throughout the Stealth Reconnaissance ship, heads bowed in a moment of silence never issued, yet freely given. Doctor Liara T'soni, standing near the Galley, watched as every Human lowered their head at a forty-five degree angle, not one word spoken or situation explained as she heard those eight bells. She looked to Professor Irissa T'vara standing next to her, who merely indicated silently to keep her peace, knowing that something had happened. Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian was in the Cargo Bay, having disassembled his Kassa Fabrication M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle, cleaning the shaver for any loose particulates when he heard the bells over head. It took him only a breath looking at the Humans who occupied the Cargo Bay to know what it indicated, and he paused what he was doing as he, too, bowed his head. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay were both near Engineering, silently watching, having an idea what was going on.

It was the end of a watch, the eight bells to call its own home.

 _Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams, in the _Normandy's_ Galley, seeing the grieving faces of five young Marines, lifted her head first as stepped onto the nearest bench before standing on the Galley table where people placed their meals. She stood tall and proud in the position of attention, where everyone in and around the Galley could see the Colonial Soldier as she lifted her voice in maximum volume as only an Army Non-Commissioned Officer could, and she began to sing as loud as possible

" _From the Halls of Montezuma,  
_ _To the shores of Tripoli!"_

Four more Sailors in the Galley went to attention and added their own voices to the next lines.

" _We fight our race's battles,  
_ _In space, air, land, and sea!"_

Dozens of voices added themselves as the words were sung, going from section to section, deck by deck, as Human voices added itself to the song.

" _First to fight for right and freedom,  
_ _And to keep our honor clean!"_

On the bridge, where men and women of the Systems Alliance Navy pulled duty, to the Engineering department where Coremen monitored the engine, every voice sang the last stanza.

" _We are proud to claim the title,  
_ _Of Systems Alliance Marines!"_

In the Galley, where five Marines stood, holding each other, tears in their eyes, they too began to sing. There wasn't a Human on the ship that wasn't.

" _Our banner's unfurled to eve'y breeze  
_ _From dawn to setting sun!  
_ _We have fought in every clime and place,  
_ _Where we could take a gun!  
_ _From the airless lands of Luna,  
_ _To sunny Elysium scenes!  
_ _You will find us always on the job,  
_ _The Systems Alliance Marines!_

 _Here's health to you and to our Corps  
_ _Which we are proud to serve!  
_ _In many a strife, we fought for life  
_ _And ne'er lost our nerve!  
_ _If the Army and Navy,  
_ _E'er look on Heaven's scenes!  
_ _They will find the paths are guarded,  
_ _By Systems Alliance Marines!"_

* * *

Author's Note: Bet you didn't see that coming?

I'm not the first person to have someone save Shepard on Therum from a collapsing catwalk in fanfic'dom. I read one _years_ ago that was an SI, but for the life of me, I don't remember the story, author, or even how it was done save that it might have been a grab. I used the idea to show the kind of person Sara is; selfless and devoted. In the Army and Marines (both US and UK, likely in many other countries as well), Combat Medics host a great many awards for valor and heroism, and in the US Navy the HM 8404 is the highest awarded rate (likely in the Royal Navy, too) considering they are one of a few Naval professions that actually get into some form of land or ship combat serving alongside American and Royal Marines.

The Marines - For those who haven't served in the military, there are always _those guys_. Y'know, the idiots who shove their feet into their mouths, make dumbass decisions, and are more trouble than they're worth? Like the black sheep little brother or loafer cousin you can't get rid of. Ballsack, Blowjob, and Lapdance represent those people (based off of real-life Privates that gave me command-level headaches). Brasserie, the Kenyan, and K-Pop have a little more brain cells at work, also based off of Privates and Specialists I had.

I noticed that I never mention that a Combat Medic/Fleet Corpsman carry an aid bag upon their back wherever they go, just assuming that people would know this. Sara has a hardcase Aid Bag that opens fully with a wide degree of combat aid equipment and devices that I'll get into later.

Heat Index - I have physically survived a Kuwaiti Summer in Camp Behring (sp?), Kuwait, in which the daytime temperatures can hit in the high forties/one-tens, and it feels lie a hundred and thirty. To prove your toughness, go into a portajon in said heat; they're as hot as an oven. Seriously, you will sweat _to death_ just trying to go number two. I'm sure many an American (and likely British) veteran will nod their heads, remembering holding it until the cooler high thirties/ninety degree nights (seriously, one-hundred degrees at midnight. WTF). Behring looks about as appealing as a smokers' ash tray, and about as inviting.

Tupari! Nine out of ten recommend it to their friends! Disaster will strike to the one who doesn't! (ME2)

Tupari - An Energy/Sports drink coming in assorted flavors, it is a vending machine found at the bottom of the Zakera Wards near the Warehouse, crying Volus, and Sirta Foundations. Clicking it will log in its aggressive advertisement campaign. Evidently, it is Commander Shepard's favorite non-alcoholic drink on the Citadel :-p

Paragade - the semi-canon competition to Tupari thanks to the Cerberus Daily Network Wikia.

Battle Drill 6A - Army Vets will recognize the term for the Room Breach Technique… which is not how the USMC does it. Typical US Army uses a four man team, while Marines generally will dogpile anywhere from six-to-eight men, and lead with grenades if required. In my story Where The Law Stands Tall, I have several textbook room clearing procedures in different fashions, from the side entrance scroll, to the assault wall , to the classic sweep-and-clear, and then finally the multi-team/large complex clearance. Chapter _Revan VI_ and _IX_ , _Therum III_ and _VI_ with various room-clearing descriptions, rather detailed for the movements and positions, the sweeping procedures and coordination. Clearing a potentially hostile room? Stressful. Clearing an _active_ hostile room? Ball-sucking pandemonium. Especially in the dark. It's like a mix of _Ghost Hunters_ with rifles.

Without trying to gross anyone out (and I imagine I got close in the _Revan_ ARC in Where The Law Stands Tall with a fertility clinic baby farm slaver camp), I wanted to highlight the _evilness_ of Huskifying (I'm going with the word 'assimilation') a person's body into Reaper cannon fodder. The game doesn't really touch it except for that one cut scene in the Eden Prime mission where that one guy gets impaled, but the video 'Take Earth Back' has a conversion; a two-second clippit of a guy getting Husked. Later on, I will detail someone getting Husked, taking a page out of Star Trek: First Contact, where that one Red Shirt gets injected by the Borg, and you see him change; his skin gets pale and gaunt, and his veins get more exposed as shit runs through them as he looks like he's being drained. It was actually a really good (albeit very creepy) scene that highlighted the logical coldness of one of the best alien species in Sci-Fi'dom; the Borg. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

This was really the first mention I've had of Nihlus at all. It's interesting to note that the little you see of Saren and even littler you see of Nihlus Kryik, how well they endeared themselves. There are dozens and dozens of fanfic's exploring more on Saren and Nihlus, and I always love reading those. Saren was a great villain, and what happened to Nihlus was certainly a slap to the face. Not everything goes according to plan.

I altered the US Marine Corps Hymn (Sousa? Original lyrics creator unknown, but several sources) to match what it might be like in the future if we colonize, changing words like _nation_ to _race_ , adding _space_ as a location, and of course changing _United States_ to _Systems Alliance_.


	11. End Of Watch, I

_Beware the hordes of the Underdark!_

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Mass Translation from Hades Gamma to Exodus Cluster, In Route To Arcturus Stream, June 16, 2183**

Author's Note: Thanks to DeviantArt's otvert for the making of a Mass Effect Milky Way galaxy map that correlates all clusters and systems, as well as mission locations, to include the N7 missions, planets of interests, and even the kind of dull Firewalker missions. I've been using it for years for my stories for travels in ME, and never credited it once. That's my bad.

I've used this map not only as a reference tool, but for travel times, using MS Paint, Pythagoras's Theorem, and dividing by 40 pixels (1 kiloParsec) to get travel distances and times.

In my mind, it's a must if you write anything related to Mass Effect. It certainly saves time looking things up. It's quite comprehensive.

And now onto the story!

* * *

Commander Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, Council Agent) sat in her Ready Room, located at the rear of the Bridge Deck, to the port side of the staircase that led to the Gun Deck below. The Ready Room was a small thing, a personal office for a vessel's Commanding Officer to conduct their duties while being near the Bridge if anything should come up, to cut down on lost time having to traverse a couple of decks or departments. The _Normandy's_ Ready Room had initially been furnished by Captain David Edward Anderson, her Poppa Bear having a taste in all things Naval, both archaic and modern.

Though the Ready Room only measured more than three by three meters squared, in its confines was the soul of a Naval man through and through, a collection of ship models, pictures, and even wood-crafted furniture that one would suspect to find upon a wooden sail vessel of old. There on the shelf of an honest-to-goodness wooden chestnut bookcase loaded with frame pictures of family and friends was a hand-crafted small scale model of the HMS _Victory_ , made of wood, with real twine for rope and canvas for sails, almost as long as her arm from elbow to fingertip. Next to it was a brass chronometer, fully functional, set within its carrying box with its lid propped open. A wooden umbrella stand stood next to it filled with replica paper, each printed with ancient mariner maps of Earth's sea, reprints of British Naval nautical maps. Tucked in one corner was a real treat; a US Navy Diver's Suit, with brass helmet, weighted boots, canvas body, and snorkel hose attached to the ceiling as if actively underwater. In another corner in a flat display case was something even more impressive; a Napoleonic-Era Naval Captain's Undress Uniform. The _piece de reverence_ , though, was the large ancient mahogany ships' wheel from the actual Fifth-Rate Super Frigate USS _Constitution_ , practically the last surviving wind-propelled warship on Earth, the wheel having been replaced with another during one of its many refits. God only knew how Poppa Bear had acquired it, but he had mounted it behind the desk upon the wall for any and all to see if a visitor were to come to the Ready Room, to reflect upon a time when Sailors crafted their trade upon the seas and oceans, navigating waves and weather by the power of sail, rope, and oar.

She was currently in the middle of doing reports.

Now that she actually had a breath and wasn't running around like a dog chasing its own tail, Jannie was working on tactical and naval assessment reports upon the Geth with the intent to submit to the Admiralty Board for distribution to forces. While there had been reinforcements on Eden Prime, Marines hot-dropping onto Constant for Search-and-Destroy Ops courtesy of Fourth Fleet, Jannie understood from the After Action Review she had been CC'ed by her mother, Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Hannah Singer, that the Geth hardware platforms had self-destructed before boots had hit ground, denying any kind of technological or intelligence recovery. While the threat on Eden Prime was gone, the Alliance had been left scraps in terms of leftovers, and barely had anything to understand Geth technology, or the means to reverse-engineer to protect against or to exploit. What that meant was that Shepard's three-man team was really the only eyes-on force that had any realistic combat experience against the Geth. So she was doing assessment reports for the benefit of the Navy and Marines, as well as the various Colonial Armies and Air Forces that protected Humanity's homes amongst the stars in Earth Alliance Space, sending it to the Admiralty Board, SASOCOM, and the Systems Alliance Colonial Military.

When Jannie finished up writing her review, she came to a rather pronounced conclusion.

Humanity was _FUCKED_.

A chime alerted her to the request of entrance to her Ready Room, and she tapped upon the holographic icon marked 'eyehole', and a PiP window popped up in the middle of her holographic overlay work field, showing Jannie who was making the request. The sight of the individual had her snort for a moment, noting that it wasn't one of the crew members of the SSV _Normandy_ , but one of their recent additions. She toggled the 'accept' button as the door to her Ready Room unlocked, sliding starboard to give admittance.

In walked in Professor Irissa T'vara, Dean of Prothean Research and Studies of the prestigious University of Serrice, Thessia.

Now that they were in a more private setting, Jannie found herself able to study the Asarikin without it being rude or awkward. She stood up and offered her hand to shake in greeting, looking upon the many yellow marks decorating the Asari's sapphire skin, the scales so fine that it almost resembled a snake's. The redhead offered a chair to sit on for her visitor after they shook hands, the Professor gracefully sitting upon the piece of furniture, absently smoothing her University of Serrice academic worksuit, the act tightening the fabric against the swells of her breasts and accentuating her figure. When a Human did the same thing, they generally pulled down along the hem of a top or a blouse to keep a garment from looking mussed or wrinkled, but Professor T'vara did it by placing the palms of her hands just under her jutting breasts and smoothing the fabric downward, the act ingrained. While Jannie had no desire whatsoever in 'going Blue', she could see that the Professor was indeed a lovely example of her species, save… she didn't flout it or emphasize it. Sara had mentioned just how smart and dedicated this Asarikin was to her profession. She had reached the position of Dean through intellect and skill, not her looks.

"I have received word from the University's Expeditionary Office that all the members of my team are safe and accounted for in the Systems Alliance Military Compound in Nova Yekaterinburg." Irissa began, the Dean in charge of sixty-eight personnel for the Serrice Team of Dig Site Alpha. "I am afraid that it will likely be days before the Dig Site is cleared of all threats before the Dig can be continued. If at all."

"With two Prothean sites attacked by the Geth in a two-week period, I imagine that everyone's a little iffy right now." Jannie admitted, understanding the concern. The group of Krogan had been sent to collect Doctor Liara T'soni for Saren Arterius, the Geth there for muscle while the Krogan were for more exotic threats; Biotics, most likely. Jannie had noted in her report that despite Geth tactical adaptability, they hadn't had an answer to the telekinetic force that Biotics could manipulate thanks to the extra nodule organs containing mass-manipulating Eezo within their bodies. For now, it seemed that Biotics would be the forefront weapon that gave organics an edge. Jannie was going to abuse the shit out of that tactical advantage while looking into upgrades, advanced weaponry and armor, and even into more exotic means. "I know that Dig Site Alpha was a big find, and no doubt you had a good deal of hope in unearthing valuable research."

"We all did." The Dean replied, looking forlorn. "I can only hope that our findings and equipment were not vandalized or destroyed by the Geth, though I imagine that they took liberty and hacked anything electronic out of our databases." Jannie understood that expeditions and digs cot money, mostly on the hopes of a return on investment. Even something like a new quantum-based equation for FTL burn fuel efficiency could be worth in the megaCredits, a discovery made since Jannie had entered into the Alliance. "Still, I have hope that there will be a future endeavor when the threat of the Geth has been reduced severely."

"It may not be as easy as you think, Professor." Shepard replied, grimacing. "The Geth… are a Human problem."

T'vara looked at her with a look of utter shock.

"And what _squid_ decided _that_ particular folly?" Irissa's voice was filled with scorn. _Squid_ was a term Jannie knew from Sara, who had worked with a pair of Asari Emergency Care Technicians in _Skybulance-37_ back in the CitEMS. The ancient enemy for the aquatic-based species, a _squid_ was generally a person denoted to being a bloody wanker.

"I'll give you _three_ guesses." Jannie's smile was completely without humor, mere muscle memory. That had the Professor pause, mulling that over for a moment.

"You wish to tell me that the Citadel Council of _Law_ has deemed a planetary invasion by an Artificial Intelligence race the responsibility of but a singular species?" The Asari's tone was in complete disbelief, her eyes wide. "What have they done to ensure a _third_ attack is not likely?"

"You're looking at it." Jannie grimaced, holding out her arms outstretched to encompass both herself, her vessel, and all that were contained within. Irissa just… looked at her, slightly perplexed with a mixture of… horror?

"A singular vessel?" The Asari spelled out slowly, as if she were trying to get the wording right. "The might of no less than three Council species and several Member species, and the shark they send is a singular Alliance Navy Frigate captained by the Council's newest Agent?" None of the personnel on Therum had known about Jannie's induction into the Office of Special Tactics, which was understandable. Sara had practically done backflips at the news. After getting her arm treated by Doctor Chakwas, which included minor invasive surgery to stitch up torn ligaments and a rotator cuff in her left shoulder, the Corpsman had been off on a tear with the news, somehow cutting and modding Jannie's replacement Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool to play the _James Bond Theme_ by Monty Norman anytime someone texted her, Chirped her, messaged her, or sent an alert. It was annoying as hell, but the crew was eating it up, so Jannie suffered it with a smile. At least it wasn't the _Wonder Woman Theme_.

"I might not be too in-depth into galactic politics, but I think the answer's pretty obvious; they want us to nut up or shut up." Jannie wasn't about to admit to the Asari in front of her that she personally believed that Asari have been letting the Turians doing the bleeding for _centuries_ to keep the peace, and now it was Humanity's turn.

A few previous conversations over the years with Sara while she was in the prestigious Presidium Academy of Education, centered around her Citadel History classes, had her looking up one time to see that the Asari and Salarians had never gotten involved with any species' internal squabbles. Ever. In fact, the Republican Fleets had never left traditional Republican Space save to go to the Citadel, escorting the Mother Matriarch or whatnot. Oh, sure, Commando teams were sent to clean up messes out in the black, but those were just _teams_. The last real conflict the Asari Military had been in… was the Krogan Rebellion some fifteen hundred years ago. Asari veterans were limited to a few dozen teams and Private Military Companies such as the Eclipse or the Sisterhood. It was even easier to figure out what the Turians were looking to do; a little salt rubbed into the wound over the _Relay Incident_ ; the last major conflict the Turians had had in the past century. Plenty of pirate and boarding actions, but Shanxi was their last hoorah. Since then, Humanity had fought off pirates, smugglers, and slavers, stopped the Assault of Elysium, wiped out a major slaver camp on the moon of Torfan over Campos, fought the entirety of the Skyllian Blitz single-handedly (and won), and successfully destabilized at least a dozen major warlords in the Attican and the Terminus with deep-penetration strikes and rapid-mobilization tactics.

It might be considered a Human-centric opinion, but the way Jannie saw it? The alien overlords were a little on the nervous side. In three decades, the Systems Alliance had bolstered its numbers in terms of manpower and vessels, increased its technology, whipped out tactics no one else had ever thought of (ancient and new), and never stood still. The galaxy had gotten prosaic doing the same-old, same-old, and when Humanity showed up the new kid on the block, started playing by their own rules. Humanity was called barbaric, backwards, barely civilized, and in dire need of further evolution. Humanity had also smashed two Turian War Fleets and fought Hierarchy ground forces to a standstill on Shanxi when their technology was so laughably backwards that the Turians had thought the race from Shanxi and just having discovered spaceflight within the past ten years. But if one got right down to it? Earth Alliance Space was practically bigger than the rest of the individual species' sovereign territory _put together_ , had caused the darling child of the Council (the Batarians) to up and quit, and had made a rather strong impression upon the galaxy what attacking any Human holdings would earn.

Jannie had personally executed Elanos Haliat, the mastermind of the Assault on Elysium itself. Streaming live on the ExtraNet. Surprisingly, that was what had garnered Nihlus Kryik's attention for a SPECTRE candidacy recommendation; her ruthless approach towards the enemies of Humanity.

"While I find that opinion a little hard to believe," Irissa T'vara continued, "it does seem that the Council is holding back. The Geth have been an issue three centuries of apathy has not cured or come to a resolution. What I find perplexing is that if their intent is Prothean ruins or information, they could strike at anyone, the Hanar most especially."

"I've been wondering how they were able to reach Eden Prime, and now Therum, without alerting half a dozen Citadel or Alliance patrols myself, and I've really only go one conclusion." Jannie had worked it out in her head, how a _Fleet_ could have come to the Utopia System without raising every alarm from Sol to the Voyager Cluster.

"They've discovered a Relay we don't know about. Something that connects the 'Verse to somewhere deep in Alliance Space."

"That… would make sense." The Professor's eyes grew inward as she thought about that. "I can surmise that Eden Prime was likely not the first instance for their search for Prothean technology. It is likely they unveiled an undiscovered site that might have coordinates for undiscovered, deactivated Relays; a shadow Mass Relay network, if you will. It could be possible that they have found ways to increase their FTL range as well, to perform deep-space strikes unobserved due to these conditions. There was a group that had done something similar over a millennium ago that I recall one of my older Commando trainers speaking of. It is one of the reasons why unlocking Relays is such a drastic crime, if you will forgive me for saying so." Ah, she was implying of the unlocking of Relay 314 and the subsequent First Contact War. "No one wishes to discover that there is a back entrance into their systems for exploitation for whomever wishes it."

"Certainly true." Irissa wasn't wrong on that, which was why the Arc sat upon the only known entrance into Sol Cluster with a practical armada ready to defend it. The Stream was a host of a dozen Relays coming in, but only one of them was a Single-Route Relay; it only translated to and from Sol Cluster. "Was there something you wished to discuss with me, Professor?"

"Yes, Commander. Two things." The Asari's tone said it all; all business now, the pleasantries over. "First concerns what I understand to be an unintentional interaction with an uninvestigated Prothean Beacon. The second concerns my relationship with Sara."

"Let's do the second one first. That one will be shorter and less awkward." The redhead replied, a small smile on her lips. "Probably don't have to tell you what she means to me, do I?"

"No, it was obvious even before I met you." Irissa replied, shifting in the chair into what Jannie assumed was a more comfortable, more conversational position for an Asari; a foot went over her opposite leg, her hands folded on her elevated knee. "She thinks the very tides of you, Commander, a very special place in her heart. I had inquired upon the ExtraNet of your story, the one about the Assault of Elysium, and what she had done. While completely reckless, knowing both her and yourself? I understand why she did it, the mindset of a Youngling who was sick with worry over a Maiden they had come to identify as their _ai'a me_." Jannie cocked her head at that. It hadn't translated. "Ah! I believe in Human parlance… besties, perhaps?" There was an amused smile upon the Asari's cerulean lips. "There have been _ai'a me_ in my life I would have plunged into a depths of a war to see to their needs and aid them. As you and she have both done for each other. It is… touching to see."

"Then I'm going to ask the hard questions." Jannie's eyes bored right into the Asari's, never wavering. "Sara's always worn her heart on her sleeve, and I can tell that this means something to her, that _you_ mean something to her." There was no denying that the redhead's tone brooked no other indication than the truth. "Does _she_ mean something to you? And I do want honesty, either way."

"It is understandable that you are protective of her. I expect no less." There was a faint smile upon the Asari's blue lips, though it wasn't of joy or humor. "You were not there during the truly hard parts of the Therum, Commander. The alert, the invasion, the evacuation." Jannie watched as Irissa closed her eyes, obviously reliving those memories. "We had but mere moments, the facility going off-line, the network compromised as we were plunged into darkness for moments before the emergency systems kicked in. Sara was on-scene a few moments later, and I remember well her face; the fear, the barely-controlled panic. I remember her words well, ' _they are coming_ '." T'vara was silent for a moment, Jannie never interrupting. She knew that feeling well from Elysium, when the colonial emergency alarms rang throughout Illyeria, the sight of so many ships burning in to deposit their despicable cargo.

"According to her," the Professor continued, "the Geth had hacked the Marine's defenses, rendering the GARDIAN Towers useless, unloading dropships and drop pods all over the Dig Site to corral and conquer. Those brave Human Marines… they never stood a chance, thirty against a thousand." Irissa's tone was saddened by the loss, knowing that those Marines had bought them time. "Sara knew as she moved us to the evacuation point, covering our exit, awaiting for the sight of Geth platforms. When we had reached a good defensive position, she determined to make a stand, to funnel the Geth into a kill zone where numbers mattered little to buy the Teams time to evacuate. When she made that call… it was as if something had reached into my chest and ripped out my heart. At that point in time, I knew with certainty that this was not a temporary _liaise_ with an agreeable companion, something that felt right at the time. The thought of Sara standing before the Geth, putting her life on the line for us? I felt dread. I _chose_ to stay, Commander, to risk my life. A part of it was due to my position as Dean, being responsible for those under me. But a substantial part of it was because I did not want Sara to die, to see that wonderful dedication and intelligence within her extinguished, for someone who is so truly alive to be ushered to Houxin's embrace."

"Then you have my gratitude, Professor." Jannie replied, nodding her head. "Who is to say how much your efforts contributed to that defense? There likely would have been casualties and fatalities without your assistance, as well as that of the Reservists. I know that when I got Sara's message, I went full-speed ahead. It's not just the fact that I owe her my _very life_ , though there is that. We've always been there for each other in one form or another. She was there when I graduated from the Systems Alliance Military Academy, hammering her Mom and Dad into going for a couple of months, or when I held her in my arms for the very first time on the day she was born."

There were dozens and dozens of precious memories when it came to her and Sara, the little girl who knew all her ticklish spots, the almost-teenager shyly asking about _boys_ , showing off her First Year Diploma from the Presidium Academy of Education, the silly photo-ops and interviews after Elysium done together, the beaming young teenager standing side-by-side with a woman she had always looked up to as _her_ hero, and watching her fully becoming one. Sara had even made a mess of tacky jokes about the 'Lion', starting up a round of AlliNet memes about Jane Shepard that burned a swath through the Service like wildfire. Even today, it wouldn't shock Jannie at all to hear one or two in the Galley or the crew quarter's about some silly achievement involving the Lion of Elysium, completely fabricated and inducing rolling eyes. Sara was her best friend, her little sister, her companion and confident, someone Jannie was glad to have in her life just as much as Sara did with her. If anyone tried hurting _her_ Sara? Jannie would skin them alive, Predator-style.

"So is the 'meeting of the Matron' over?" Irissa asked, a little amused, though taking it with good grace at least. Jannie had never heard of the term, but figured it out well enough; the Asari version of having to meet the father-figure of a Maiden. The redhead just smiled wolfishly.

"It's me or Alec. And trust me, I don't think Alec needs to know that his little girl is sleeping with aliens."

* * *

" _Attention on deck!_ "

"At ease." Commander Jane Shepard called out as she entered into the Ward Room all those inside sitting down as she gave the order. The small office was meant for meeting between the department heads of the SSV _Normandy_ , though it was a general purpose room that was used at the CO's discretion. As the Commanding Officer, it was her duty to oversee the overall effectiveness of the vessel, to supply its needs and correct its deficiencies. While she had never been in command of a vessel herself, she had observed her mother, Rear Admiral Hannah Singer, doing just that for years, even having conversations about it. Then there was when she, of course, was the Executive Officer under Captain David Edward Anderson, Poppa Bear grooming her for his position as a ship's Captain was suppose to do in case of a break in the chain-of-command (such as injury, illness, or death). Now Jannie suspected that Poppa Bear knew this would likely have happened with her SPECTRE Candidacy under the tutelage of Agent Nihlus Kryik. Jannie took to her seat at the head of the Ward Room table as she looked at her department heads, doing a post-ops review. This was their second encounter with the Geth, and there had been little time to identify and adjust what they had learned during Eden Prime. She was going to rectify that now since they were in transit and they had hours to go before reaching the Stream and the Arc.

"First off, I would like to start this meeting on a positive note." The Commander began, looking at her subordinates. To her left was her Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly, while to her right was her third-in-command and Supply Officer, 1st Lieutenant Dan Simmons. To Pressly's left was her Chief Engineer, 1st Lieutenant Gregory Adams, while across from him was her Ops Chief, Lieutenant (junior grade) Nikolai Yevseyenkov. Next down were her Chief Weapons Officer, Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele, and then across from her the Navigator, Ensign Sun Moon. At the end of the table was her Tactical Officer, 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. It was mid-day aboard the ship, and Jannie felt it would be appropriate to have a meal with her officers at least once a day to rehash the going-ons of the Frigate-Class vessel without having to call up a meeting every day. It was something that she had learned from her mother, that more of an 'unbuttoned collar' approach worked better than stuffy meetings everyone loathed. She certainly wasn't interested in PowerPoint slides. Instead, they were being served lunch, one of the _Normandy's_ rated culinary specialists serving as the Officers' Steward. Lunch consisted of Navy Rations; Ready-Heats prepared and served on PlastiWear that would be recycled into PlastiGel after the meal for future use based on the ships' needs. It was better than the recyclable box that the meals came in.

"Gentlemen, we're now two-and-oh." Jannie gave off a smile, meaning every word and muscle used to display her grin. There were smiles and nods around the table as Seaman (CS1) Brad Switzer stood in the corner of the Ward Room, attending as Steward, likely having been brow-beaten by the Master Chef that it was his job to serve the Officers and to keep his mouth shut, pretending to be an invisible as possible while in Class Whites (informal). "A toast!" Jannie picked up her CeramiGel-crafted glass half-filled with port wine, her way of letting her officers know that this was both informal and that she was in a good mood, everyone raising their glasses with her. "To the crew of the _Normandy_! From bow to stern, port to starboard, from bilge to crow's nest, from Seaman to CO!"

" _To the_ Normandy!" Everyone raised their glasses and voice to the toast, taking a polite sip of the port. That officially started the meal as Jannie found herself being the first to pick up her PlastiWear; the Commanding Officer was always first in such things, and now that was _her_. It hadn't really sunk in with her spontaneous and unexpected promotion, further obscured with their full-out drive towards Therum. But now… it hit her. This was _her_ ship, _her_ crew. Normally such things had celebrations and speeches. So far, all they had was a battle.

"Supply, we got fresh supplies in a locker somewhere for surf-and-turf?" Shepard looked to her Supply Officer. "Been on a few ships where that was a Friday tradition."

"Currently? No, ma'am." Lieutenant Simmons replied around his own meal, what looked to be Beef Strogenoff. "We're heading to the Arc, so that won't be hard to pull up and get into stock. Surf-and-Turf's good for morale."

"I'm going to be asking a lot out of this crew, so it's only fair I deal it back in where I can." Jannie reasoned, getting nods all around the table. "I know Ready-Heats are more space-saving and don't require refrigeration, but it's a fucking shame to have a skeleton crew pull miracles out of their ass and expect them to eat grub handed off to regular Sailors. This is a Stealth Frigate, and if my history serves me right, blue water submariners were the best in the business… and they ate the best. Throw some numbers together dealing with budget and space with the intent of having one cooked meal per day."

"I'll have those numbers by COB today, ma'am." Simmons replied, nodding his head.

"Speaking of crews," Jannie looked to Pressly, "I've forwarded my recommendation for a full compliment of crew to Navy BuPers," that was the deciding authority of allocation of personnel for the Systems Alliance Navy and Marines, the Bureau of Personnel, "and hopefully we can pick up a twenty percent increase before we leave the Arc. We're still running on a shakedown crew, and everyone's working at least one rank above their own, if not two in Steele's and Moon's case."

When Poppa Bear got the political axe, everyone had to be shifted to cover down. Unfortunately, there hadn't actually been enough personnel to do that, Pressly covering down for both Executive Officer while working Navigation as well. Ensign Sun Moon was a junior officer who was actually the Combat Information Control Systems Officer, in charge of making sure that the programs and instrumentation were running seamlessly with all the necessary patches and updates. She was only suppose to be on the _Normandy_ as a temporary billet for her five shakedown runs to make sure all the software was running up-to-spec. Thankfully, that meant she knew how to operate the systems, and had Pressly filling her in on the basics while he ran the vessel while Shepard was on the ground. Pressly had given her a report of her abilities with glowing praise and a full-endorsement for ' _whatever she happens to want_ '. Pressly wasn't easily impressed, and Jannie was going to offer the position to the Ensign as a permanent duty if she were interested.

Lieutenant Patricia Steele was actually the Ordinance Officer who had been serving as the Chief Weapons Officer for the shakedown runs, another temporary billet. Every Geth kill in space had been due to a rather unusual technique that had been her idea; instead of using the main gun or the _Normandy's_ deck guns and exposing its position, the Weapons Officer had missiles pre-programmed with plot destinations and had fired them from the ships' tubes _by air_ instead of propulsion, putting a fifteen-second delay for ignition so the Frigate could move out of position and remain in stealth. That had been an act of genius, and twenty-five kills were now accredited to her and her technique; fifteen above Eden Prime, and ten above Therum. Jannie immortalized the technique, calling it the 'Steele Maneuver' in her reports to the Admiralty Board. It had proved quite effective against the Geth, and it was something hat other ships could use, possibly making the synthetic race believe that there might be more Stealth ships out there. They were bingo on missiles now, but Steele came up with 'temporary' ordinance by crafting _ad hoc_ guided explosive devices that could be fired like rockets. Jannie _really_ wanted Steele to accept her invitation to stay on-board.

"More crew would be good, but we need to work on the integration of the _Normandy's_ systems, ma'am." Pressly spoke. "As I said with Captain Anderson, the _Normandy_ is a prototype with seven major innovations cobbled together into a singular vessel. Most innovations only come one at a time upon a platform that is well understood. We're literally flying an experimental craft with a hull design not our own, with an engine meant for a Cruiser, guns and shields for a Destroyer, enough maneuvering thrusters to make us a nimble as a Corvette, a stealth system that wasn't tested until Eden Prime, an experimental Combat Ops System that wasn't fully tested, and armor that doubles as LADAR-scattering. Don't even let me begin on the superstructure modifications, the just-out-of-the-box heat management system, and the fact that we don't even know if the prototype shields are as good as advertised." Jannie knew of this argument, having heard it when she was the XO. Those issues were suppose to be solved with the shakedown runs. "We are literally on a ship of several innovations that barely integrate with one another, with several systems that still need bugs and script errors ironed out, several patches that aren't working, and a third of our crew meant to ship out in two weeks. Someone wanted to make a fast-attack ship that could ghost in and kill a vessel. Looks good on paper."

"Yeah, but now we're staring a Geth War straight in the teeth." The redhead sighed, knowing what Charles was driving at. They had a ship that was _too_ much of a technological marvel. No one understood it fully because it was the first of its kind, a hybrid prototype, and it hadn't gone through a gauntlet of exercises to discover its limits or issues to work upon before being fully deployed. Prototype vessels could take months to iron out the issues, and a couple of years before a production line was established. It was obvious that they weren't going to have the time. "I'll be honest, folks. First thought was at this ship was deep-insertion vessel into Batarian space, blasting pirates and slavers right out of the black with the four-eyes none-the-wiser." That had everyone nodding. "Captain Anderson populated this ship with crew that was good on previous vessels, but this is a whole 'nother ballgame. Chances are that the Admiralty Board developed the _Normandy_ on the hopes that there would be a SPECTER, and that said SPECTRE would be putting the screws into the Hegemony without risking a war. But ever since Eden Prime? That idea's been cast off.

"Make no mistake, gentlemen. I'm declaring _war_."

Seven sets of eyes look right at her, and not one of them wavered or had doubt in them. Good.

"Whatever the plan was before, I'm scraping it and making my own." Jannie continued, lunch all but forgotten. "Back in the blue water navy, a ship's captain, be it a wood-and-sail Frigate or a nuclear submarine, had orders to harass the enemies of their countries in _anyway they saw fit_." They were all Sailors, and every one of them knew that their Earth-bound predecessors were men of strength and pride, be it pulling an oar or line, or manning a deck. "We're going back to those days thanks to the Council. Councilor Sparatus Quinlinus declared the Geth's invasion of Eden Prime a _Human problem_ , and I'm going to take him at his _word_." It was the Lion talking, and Humans knew what happened when you messed with a Lion. "The Alliance Fleets have too much territory and too many colonies to protect. There are good men and women on those vessel who swore an oath to serve the Alliance and Mankind, but none of them are prepared to deal with the Geth. There are good men and women who make our race worth fighting for, and I'm not about to let some fucking toaster _spike_ them and turn them into some Goddamn monstrosity and change them into a terror tactic. That fucking Turian has made it _his_ mission to hurt _us_ as a species however he can while looking for his precious Conduit.

"We are now the tip of the spear." Shepard said in a tone that brooked no question.

"We are going to operate like a Frigate back in the days of ole, where mission take precedence." Jannie continued. "We stock up, and then we ship out to accomplish that mission _no matter what_." Everyone had their attention on her, no one dare interrupting her. "This isn't overseeing the border, flying with a patrol fleet, on the wing of a wolfpack, or stationed over a planetary body. Gentlemen, we are _hunter/killers_ , and wherever the enemy is? I want to be there to send them to their righteous deaths."

"Hear, hear." Lieutenant Yevseyenkov commented, nodding in approval. He wasn't the only one nodding.

"We will likely be alone." Shepard reiterated, looking at her officers. "Defensive Fleets and Patrol Fleets are going to be in full effect at their duties, especially after Eden Prime and Therum. That means about eighty percent of our forces will only be in Earth Alliance Space, buttoned close to our big colonies and trade lanes. Our scout flotillas and battle groups will likely also be deployed to the borders to fill in the gaps, and will also be unavailable. Gentlemen, we may be flying in the black, looking at a Geth fleet with no one at our backs. We _need_ to be at our best, and we need ideas on how to cull their forces and interrupt their operations with full intent to do so the next day. What Lieutenant Steele came up with is innovating, but sooner or later the Geth will learn. But we need this type of thinking, something spontaneous and adaptable. I need you all to work out the kinks and details while on deployment, fix the issues as best we can without yard or port for support. We may have to refit on the fly, resupply for any number of exotic locations, and prepare ourselves to use any and all dirty underhanded tactic that has ever been used in warfare ever since we started picking up clubs to brain each other. Any and all suggestions towards that endeavor will be fully entertained. We just lost a colonial capital and the potential discoveries of a Prothean dig site, not to mention the huge loss of civilian lives and the losses of the Colonial Army and Alliance Marines. We can't afford these Pyhrric victories, but this vessel _will_ be the one to teach the Geth that fucking with the Human race was the _worst_ decision they'll have ever made."

"Amen." Lieutenant Steele replied, smiling.

"Now," Jannie looked at her food, wondering how this turned into a rant, "if anyone's got any ideas, let's start making suggestions. When we hit the Arc, I'm going to scream, beg, cry, and threaten for anything and everything we can think of. When we're done there? We're going to the Cit, and I'm going to load us up with anything and everything exotic I can get my hands on. Council might have written us off, but I don't doubt theres a few Sailors and warriors from other races that are looking at a galaxy map and frowning. I'm going to call in some favors and toss in some sweets and see what we can net to give us that edge we're most certainly going to need. And make no mistake, we _are_ going to need it."

"We'll compile a list together and get it to you soonest in terms of supplies and equipment." Pressly offered. "But there's one thing we're going to need right off the top of my head.

"Liquid Helium."

"Okay. I'll bite." That wasn't at all what Jannie was thinking, but Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly obviously had something in mind.

"It's the IES, ma'am." He began, talking with his hands. "We've got a ship the size of a Frigate, armor and hull of a Destroyer, and an engine that's meant for a Cruiser. Our heat management system is _none_ of those things, and some genius decided that emergency venting would happen in the Core Room."

"Oh for _fuck's_ sakes." That was a hell of a design flaw. Emergency venting was when a ships' heat management system reached capacity and _vented_ to keep systems and equipment from melting. Unfortunately, the Core Room was right where the engine was… and her Engineering Department. An emergency vent could overheat the already too-hot engine and incinerate the crew meant to keep the vessel going! "Who's Goddamn brilliant idea was it to do that? Mother _fucker_."

"I don't know, but thankfully one of the Pilgrims noticed it." That had Jannie pause. What? "Specialist Zorah offered to stand watch for Engineering to Lieutenant Adams, and rattled off a rather impressive amount of skills and techniques that no doubt are pretty useful in the Migrant Fleet. If we're fighting Geth…" Pressly's hand tottered back and forth, like a see-saw.

"Make it happen." Shit, she had several alien crew members that could be useful. One was a Detective, and another a Salarian spy. "Thinking about it, the Blitz really didn't do us too many favors in terms of losses and the fact that we were mostly fighting trash." That had Lieutenant Alenko grunt. "Pirates and most of the mercs we encountered weren't very organized or well-equipped, most of them only doing it on the promise of Credits. The supposed _not_ Hegemonist forces we fought weren't much better. We got use to facing those who had a lack of tactics, organizational structure, resupply, and effectiveness. Which is why we won. We're not going to have it that easy with the Geth, so we need to get creative." Jannie leaned back in her seat, and mulled it over for a moment. "Way I see it, my ground team has an interesting line up. We've got various training, tactics, weapons, and avenues that we can exploit. I'm going to use that to our advantage, considering there isn't really any big multi-species groups out there that aren't mercenary companies, and most of them are really just thugs with guns. Those same individuals have skills that we can put forth to give us a different set of ways we can use to bring out a win. While I'm not exactly keen on having several sovereign nationals running on board, I'm less willing to hear about another Human colony being attacked by the Geth. We need every advantage we can get."

"Agreed." Pressly responded first, surprising the hell out of the redhead. This was the same guy who was actual verbal about Kryik's presence on-board the _Normandy_! "I know my stance on non-Humans, but as you said yourself, ma'am; Human colonies are under attack. Turning down help will mean more people will be killed." Charles' words had their effect in the Ward Room, several heads slowly nodding. Shit, if Pressly was on-board for trying out working with aliens, shit really had gone sideways. But it was as he said; two Human colonies attacked in less than ten days. And no one doubted that there'd likely be another. "As I understand it, former Agent Saren Arterius may be the one in charge of the Geth, or at least giving them direction. His opinion of Humanity is rather well-known thanks to a few interviews and articles about him. He thinks we are abrasive, barbaric, and unwilling to cooperate. The first rule in the Art of War…"

"…is to know thy enemy. Second is to do _exactly_ what he wouldn't expect." Shepard smiled, Charles nodding his head. "Alright, I'm going to look into integrating the extra crew members. They're on this ship, they're pulling their weight. Anything else big like the Liquid Helium?"

"A muzzle. It's for our pilot." Lieutenant Yevseyenkov inputted.

Jannie just sighed.

* * *

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder was familiarizing herself with the SSV _Normandy's_ Medical Bay, having to work single-handedly since her left arm was in a sling. She had met the ship's Surgeon, Commander Karin Chakwas, and found the older, refined woman to be a pleasant superior and quite knowledgeable. She, of course, knew who Sara was, and a good deal of her past; Ryder saw Auntie's hand in this as the Surgeon asked her questions about working for he Citadel Emergency Medical Service, being a Paramedic on a Skybulance for the Presidium Rings and Kithoi Arm. It was a pleasant conversation in which Sara familiarized herself with the medical lockers filled with various supplies, instrumentation, and equipment, as well as the drug locker. Her own supplies from the Dig Site had been brought as well, adding to the stock for non-Humans, in which the bare minimum had been received during their rapid departure from the Cit. Sara had winced at the sight of such poor quantity and quality for Turians and Salarians, and was glad she had in stock the kind of drugs and medications they would actually be needing. Commander Chakwas was a Surgeon for Human Beings, and had passing familiarity for Asari, but hadn't had a chance to work with or upon any of the others. When the older woman discovered that Sara was extra-rated as a Surgeon's Mate as well as a Fleet Marine Force Corpsman, the British woman practically hugged her in joy.

Sara wasn't alone in the MedBay; there was another Hospital Corpsman. Able Seaman Linda Basheer was everything Sara _wasn't_ , and not in a good way. While another HM 8404 like Sara, it was about right there that the similarities ended. As an E-3, Basheer should have qualified for a rating, be it Pharmacist's Mate, Nurse's Assistant, Dental Assistant, Physician's Mate, Surgeon's Mate, or Medical Technician, or at the very least heading towards that rating if she wanted to become a Petty Officer. Yet Basheer hadn't attended a "C" School, nor did she seem interested in doing so. Sara tried not to judge the woman based upon her looks, but seeing a frumpy, overweight woman with an acne-riddled face? And then there was the fact that the Seaman was actually in her _fourth_ year in the Navy? It was either laziness, procrastination, or just plain apathy that drove the woman… or perhaps _rolled her along_ would be a more applicable term. Sara had sadly known more than a few Sailors like her, who plodded along with no real forward momentum or motivation. Marines had a nickname for _Dispensary Aide's_ like Basheer; PEZ Dispensers, good enough to hand out pills.

"Doc Ryder."

Sara turned to see Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka standing by the opened door of the Med Bay, and motioned the female Salarian in, knowing what the Agent needed. Commander Karin Chakwas was working on her terminal, looking up some medical supplies that Sara had informed her would be more appropriate for their eclectic crew, while Basheer worked on another terminal, doing… was she on _TWITR_? For fucking serious!

"Hop onto Bed One, _Dhor'rele_ , and I'll take a look at your shoulder." Sara smiled as she moved over to Basheer, who tried to minimize the social network site to show something more prosaic; an inventory sheet. "Basheer, I need you to open up Deployment Container Number Three and pull out the green-marked box." Basheer turned to look at her with her lower lip pouting out, and Ryder fought the urge to tear the woman two years her senior a new asshole. " _Now_ , Seaman." Sara emphasized, her tone growing steel as the Seaman realize that she didn't want to cross that particular line. Instead, she flounced her way from her chair and into the back storage room, where Sara's Therum equipment was stored. There, that ought to keep Basheer busy for a while considering Deployment Container Number Three had boxed medications, and about _half_ of them were labeled green. The Corpsman returned her attention to the Salarian. "Alright, _Dhor'rele_. Button down the top and let's take a look at your left shoulder."

"I am surprised you know that term, Doc." The Salarian said as she undid the electrostatic adhesive connectors to her Union-oriented uniform, baring a thin left shoulder, her brownish flesh still smooth; Zevin was still young, in other words, before middle-age. There was a heavy medical package upon her left shoulder where a Geth round and gone in and out when her shields had be overtaxed due to her microrockets being turned against her by the synthetic race. She was honestly lucky to be alive and that there wasn't anything too horribly important in the area she had been shot at save muscle and bone. _Dhor'rele_ was a _Surreshi_ term for 'honored female', but it wasn't the native term for a Dalatrass. "I believe the Commander mentioned that you are Cit-born."

"Firstborn, in fact." Sara smiled a little as she took the monitoring chip off the top of the package of StimuGrow (Salarian-specific), indicating that the fluids and supplements had run their course and the package was now empty. She took the edge of one piece of medical tape and easily peeled it off to remove the bandage and cellulose bag that delivered bio-engineered amino acids, growth-encouraging fluids, and anti-inflammatory medications to stave off any infections. "Actually went to the Presidium Academy."

"You too? Ah! You are _that_ … hmm. Let us just say that my younger sister doesn't like you much." Sara had never seen a Salarian look… _sheepish_ … before.

"Zevin Yalis? I remember her perhaps a little _too_ well." Sara did indeed remember Zevin Yalis, an up-and-coming Dalatrass-to-be for the Zevin Clan of Mannovai. There was a one-word term to describe Yalis; _bitch_. "She wasn't pleased at all when my standings were higher than hers in our Peerage." In Human parlance, Sara had a higher overall GPA, though the Academy graded on more than just academics.

"She mentioned that. Quite often. In a very loud voice." Raeka replied, looking a little amused. "No worries, Doc. I refused my birthright for a reason, and hold no bond with my Clan."

"That's… brave of you." She knew a bit about Salarians, but she had never heard of a female turning down her birthright before, to refuse to become a Dalatrass. What she knew about Salarians came from her friend and fellow Skybulance medic Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla. "Is it impolite to ask?"

"No, but… more trust is required."

"That's fair." Sara nodded as she finally peeled off the package, looking at the wound. The flesh was a little more pale, thanks to the package and the supplements, but that was to be expected. She pulled out a penlight from her breast pocket and shined the gunshot wound, illuminating it to see how the healing process was progressing. "So you went to the Academy, too?" There was a growing grin on the Corpsman's face as she looked up from the gunshot wound to the not-Dalatrass's dark eyes. " _Fifth_." Sara said with a hint of pride.

"Ninth." Raeka nodded her head in acknowledgment, knowing exactly what Sara was talking about; Peerage. "You have most certainly earned my respect and admiration, Ryder. First of your species in any endeavor is always a source of pride."

"What are you two talking about?" Commander Chakwas asked, curious, looking up from her work on her terminal and over to the bed. Since Sara had a great deal more experience with Salarians than the Surgeon (who had practically zero), it was the Marine Corpsman who would take care of Agent Zevin Raeka. It was this kind of diversity and challenge that had fifteen-year old Sara Elaine Ryder deciding to volunteer to become a Citadel Paramedic for the CitEMS, going through dozens and dozens of medical first responders to even just give her the time of day for a chance to learn and grow. It was after a slue of failures (mostly due to her species, though a few were understandably because of her youth) that she met Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis of _Skybulance-37_. It was Shayla that decided to give the young Human Maiden a chance, taking Sara under her wing and helping her fulfill her goal of becoming a Paramedic so that she could achieve her dream of being… well, she knew exactly what her dream was.

She was about to _live it_.

"Schooling." Sara replied with a smile, going back to looking at the Salarian Agent's wound. Despite the paleness due to the bandaging and medical package, there was no sign of weeping, necrosis, or infection. "We went to the same school on the Cit. The Presidium Academy of Education."

"It is the _premiere_ schooling in the galaxy. The elite of the galaxy strive to have their children pass its rigorous acceptance examination. Any that pass are lauded. Any that pass with Peerage is exemplified. Both myself and Sara Ryder here are considered Venerated due to our Peerage; amongst the top _ten_ of our classmates." The STG Operative informed the Surgeon, who looked at both of them with widened eyes.

"So… the best and the brightest go? Only the best and the brightest?" Karin asked, intrigued.

"Yep." Sara replied as she moved around to look at the exit wound come from just to her starboard of Raeka's shoulder blade, only slightly larger than the entry wound. "Most Councilors, Chamberlains, CEO's, Primarchs, Dalatrasses, major politicians, corporate leaders, business moguls, Volus Magnates, and people of major influence have come from the Academy. Pretty much if you graduate with Peerage, you can write your own ticket anywhere in the galaxy."

"So… the galaxy is run by the alumni of a singular school? Do I have that right?"

"That is a more-than-fair assessment." The Special Tasks Group Agent replied with a quick nod of her head. "I was immediately accepted into the STG based upon my Peerage and given the training I desired because of it. Know how many females are _active_ operatives in the Group? _One._ " There was a smile on her lipless mouth that even Sara had a hard time missing despite being behind Raeka. The wound looked just as good on the exit-side as it did on the entrance-side, and Sara was pleased to see that it was approximately a quarter of its original dimension from before, the medical package meant for Salarians to heal woulds rapidly. Zevin would still have to take it easy for a week for the process to be truly complete, but in two more days, the wound would be closed and she could begin physical therapy to promote proper ligament flexibility and spot any issues early on. Ryder noted that Doctor Chakwas was looking at her now.

"How many Humans have been to this school?"

"Just the one." Sara smiled as she went to one of the medical locker caches, taking out another package of StimuGrow, marked green for Salarian. "Okay, _Dhor'rele_ , you know the drill. Plenty of iron, calcium, and oxidant supplements for your meals, plenty of fluids that _are not_ caffinated or alcoholic in nature, and keep it easy on shoulder." The Corpsman tore open the wrapping with her teeth and placed the fresh medical package upon Zevin Raeka's left shoulder, mindful to cover both entry and exit wound. The not-Dalatrass placed her right hand upon the package to hold it in place as Sara took medical tape and cut off strips single-handedly, having taught herself the trick to do so in case of combat-necessity. The young woman taped the package firmly in place before placing a monitoring chip upon the top, activating its timer and readout so she could monitor its progress on either her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool or on any one of the Med Bay terminals. "Let me grab you your dietary supplements right quick, and you can go back to making the Humans nervous."

"Um, Chief?" Sara looked up to see Seaman Linda Basheer coming back with a minifactured plastic grocery-oriented bag filled with little boxes labeled green. "I found all the green boxes."

"The _Phleboxin_ , Seaman." Sara jerked her head back to the storage room to indicate to the frumpy Sailor where she could go find it. "And return the others back into their rightful place; organized and labels up, Seaman." The pout returned, but the woman was at least cognitive enough to turn quickly and return to the supply room to comply with her orders. "Wonder how long she'll look for the _Phleboxin_ with the green label when that medication is marked red?"

Zevin Raeka just blinked at her twice with her nictitating membranes… and then chuckled.

* * *

"Well, hey there, kiddo."

Petty Officer Sara Ryder smiled as she was admitted into the Ready Room of Commander Jane Shepard, her grin wide as she looked upon her Auntie, seeing her rise from her antique desk. The Ready Room got a quick glance, and she recognized Captain David Anderson's love of ancient mariners, and the setting was perfect for Auntie as well; a Sailor through-and-through. Sara gave Jannie a quick one-armed embrace, looking up to the redhead with a one-sided smile. It had been quite some time since they had seen each other, since her and Scott's graduation from their separate schools, and even longer since they had spent real time together. The last time… what, five years ago? About the time she started earning her chops on _Skybulance-37_. There had been visits and little get-togethers since then, but Jannie probably hadn't spent more than an hour or so at any given time with Sara since she was fifteen years old. Occupying the same vessel as Auntie? It was like a dream come true for her.

"Well, I see you kept up with Poppa Bear's decorations. I know he would like you to have it." Captain Anderson had been the Commanding Officer for the SSV _Normandy_ , but Sara knew without being told that something had happened to where Poppa Bear wasn't on the Frigate-Class vessel. Sara guessed politics; the same backstabbers that likely shitcanned her own father. Sara looked over to the large model of the HMS _Victory_ , a hand-crafted model that Uncle David had made with real wood, cutting the pieces and hand-building the ship with cloth for the sails, twine for the ropes and nets, meticulously piecing it together as a small-scale replica of Lord Horatio Nelson's flagship from the Battle of Trafalgar. "Seeing you here, the captain of your own vessel?" Sara took to the guest seat as Jannie returned to her own, swiping away her OLED screen, causing it to roll back down on top of the wooden desk. "I know you would want Poppa Bear to be here, Auntie. But you know he's proud of you."

"I do." Jannie smiled a sad smile, Sara having hit upon the _crux_ of her situation. Jannie's dream had been the same as Sara's dream; Auntie had wanted to work with Poppa Bear, the man who had been her father for as long as she remembered. Jannie had… three weeks, perhaps a day or two more? It wasn't fucking fair for Auntie just like it wasn't fair for Sara, getting her chance due to the Geth and what they had done to Red Platoon. Ryder was still feeling that pain, though Auntie had been right; everything had been done right, but the Geth just had the advantage. But now they had each other, and they would carry each other through whatever they faced. Just like always. "Gotta say though…" Auntie's green eyes dipped to the rolled up blouse sleeves of Sara's Alliance Blue top, the cuffs rolled up past her biceps in Marine fashion, "… what have you been feeding those dogs of yours?" The smile on Jannie's face was pure amusement as Sara looked down to her exposed right bicep.

"Oh, this?" The Corpsman decided to show off a little and raised her right arm and flexed, her thirty-three centimeter bicep bulging impressively, letting her eyebrows juke up. "Pure iron, Auntie. Jealous?" Sara couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Jealous? Meh… a little." Auntie gave her a wink, a smile growing on her features. Seeing Jannie smile, her face alight with amusement, talking about everything and nothing? It was like back when they were kids, Jannie and Sara hanging out, playing video games, jabbering about whatever came to mind. Sara missed this. "You're really showing your colors here, kiddo. All those years of education, training, working out, and improving upon yourself are paying off, Sara. Proud of you, kid, really and truly."

"Well, I guess if it comes from a _SPECTRE_ , then it's really official." Ryder replied with a little sass, but her comment had the redhead frowning.

"Sara…" Jannie began, her tone… odd. "Sara, this is a SPECTRE mission. Everyone here has been given the chance to volunteer or walk away from this mission, right here in this very Ready Room, more or less one at a time. This isn't a patrol, a defensive position, or a training exercise, Sara. We're hunting a former Council Agent named Saren Arterius."

"Shit. The Bloody _Talon_?" Saren Arterius was a name known to her, thanks in part to her father, but also Turians she had known on the Cit, like Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis and Emergency Rescue Technician Javis Latarus. Agent Saren Arterius was a bloody hero for the Hierarchy. Young Turians looked up to the Cabalist who had been a Hero of Shanxi for the Turians, as well as their races' youngest-inducted Council Agent. "Was he responsible for Eden Prime?"

"Yes." Shepard replied evenly, steepling her hands in front of her as she leaned a little on her ancient wooden desk. "I don't know how he got the Geth involved or why. If he had been a Council Agent, he could have accessed the information he needed with little in the way of question. Ash mentioned something that made me think that this had been some time in the making. The discovery of the Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime and the attack were too short a time for Saren to visit Rannoch, convince the Geth to aid him, and prepare their fleets and slip through Citadel and Alliance Fleets for the attack. He had them beforehand, I think. God only knows what he enticed them or promised them to secure their allegiance, but it wasn't a Prothean Beacon. Something else."

"So… what? You're giving me a chance to walk away after what happened on Therum?" Sara asked, her tone dark. Shit, she didn't mean to do that. "Auntie, I'm sorry, I just…"

"I understand completely. Ash said the same thing." Jannie replied, forgiving her. "This is strictly volunteer, kiddo, and you need to know what you're volunteering for. This isn't normal shit against normal forces, dropping in on some unsuspecting pirates, or talking tough to some Batarian border patrol skirting danger. The Geth come in numbers, and they continuously adapt. Saren was one of the best Agents of the Council, and removing his SPECTRE status will likely make him more dangerous. We are going to hunt him down and attach his _skull_ to the Eden Prime Memorial when they build it and put the names down for all the lives lost so people know they were avenged. This isn't a job for normal forces, Sara. I know you have the goods," Sara was about to protest, Auntie holding up her hands to stop her, "but realize that what happened on Eden Prime and Therum will likely be what we face next time and the time after that. Remember your Marines?"

"Yes." The word was but a whisper, but Sara felt that rage and grief in her heart, like a vice.

"That will happen again." The redhead told her, her tone so calm, so normal, but Ryder knew that Auntie was anything but. "You accept this mission? There will be dozens of Holodansk's, dozens of Red Platoons, dozens of Twelfth Infantry Battalions, dozens of Therums, dozens of Eden Primes." Sara… had never heard Auntie talk like this before. "It could be Human colonies, it could be Turian ships, it could be something else." The N7's voice was calm, but she was relentless. "It started with ProTech, and it will likely end with some superweapon or Prothean device that will have drastic consequences." Sara knew what Shepard was doing; being the Commander, even to her lifelong friend. "Each and every member of this crew knows that I may ask them to lay down their lives. It will be a very likely possibility that we will lose members of this crew, possibly at every turn." Sara now knew _why_ Auntie was doing this.

There would be rage, grief, heartache, and loss. No matter if they succeed or not, the price would be paid by all aboard the _Normandy_.

"I won't lie, Sara; we need you." Jannie continued, her voice still even. "We don't have a Doc, and we need a xenomedic. You are likely the only one in the entirety of the Systems Alliance Military with anything close to your qualifications, and the next runner-up will be someone from CitEMS or someone else who might have served in some similar capacity. I understand you busted your ass to get where you were on Therum, and that me asking is not exactly aligned with that. Instead, you will be serving on a state-of-the-art Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate under the command of a Council Agent, being essentially a Task Force combat medical care provider for all personnel involved, regardless of species. That means the missions will be the kind of missions that they send N's to with the knowledge of a substantial casualty and fatality rate, populated with an eclectic ground team of varying needs and care. Holodansk… was merely the first for you.

"There will be more."

Sara looked at her Auntie, knowing that this… speech, was likely heavy on the redhead's soul, having to ask her to partake in this mission, to put herself not only in the line of fire, but to wade through the worst the galaxy might have to offer. The Commander needed a Doc who had the qualifications and skills to keep her men _alive_ in the worst of scenarios, to give them that chance. It probably broke her heart to ask Sara to walk in hell beside her, but both she and Auntie knew that there wasn't anyone else.

"If I turned this down," Sara began slowly, "if I walked away? The guilt… it would kill me." The young woman held her Auntie's gaze, her blue eyes never wavering. "If I heard of a loss aboard this ship, I would forever wonder if they could have been saved if I had been there. I know… I know that I am better than the common Marine Infantryman, that I _have_ trained myself to be better, to bust my ass towards a lofty goal. That dedication will help me now when this crew, _my_ crew, needs me most." The Corpsman took a deep breath, and smiled at her best friend, her Auntie, her sister, her _hero_. Jannie had always been the one Sara had looked up to, and she wasn't about to let her down when Auntie needed her most.

"I'm in."

"Then I'll draft up the paperwork for a PCS move and have you attached to my command." The Commander replied, and Sara could see that while Commander Shepard got what she wanted, Jannie knew that she would be sending Sara into mortal danger, possibly sending her to her death. "Uncle Alec is going to fucking kick my ass, you know? _Hard_."

"Aww! Does the _SPECTRE_ need a hug?" Sara smiled, her grin growing large as Auntie growled at her. "I've got the guns to protect you." The Corpsman flexed her right bicep once more to demonstrate.

"Cheeky little shit." The redhead replied with a shaking head and a growing smirk. "Missed this."

"Me too, Auntie." The Angel agreed with the Lion as Shepard surprised the Corpsman by pulling open a drawer at her side and pulling out a small bottle of Elysium Gold Whiskey and two shatterproof drinking glasses. "What? We're drinking?"

"Kiddo, know how _long_ I've waited to share a drink with you?" Jannie smirked as she poured what looked to be a double-fingers' worth of whiskey in each glass, handing one to Sara after corking the bottle. "You saved my life yesterday in a legitimate no-denying-it fashion. Tradition says that I'm suppose to buy you a drink, but private stock works, too. So… a toast?" Auntie had a bit of a cocky look upon her face as Sara tried to think of a toast. And she actually did come up with one; a Human one, from literature.

"To absent friends and lost loves…" Sara began, and Jannie smiled, obviously recognizing the reference from one of _her_ favorite graphic novel series..

"To old gods and the season of mists…" The redhead added before they joined together.

" _And may each and every one of us always give the devil his due!"_ The glasses tapped themselves together as the Lion and the Angel drank.

* * *

Author's Notes: I actually had a lot of fun with the Ready Room. I didn't want just a metal room with a desk and a computer terminal. I saw a Captain's Cabin; maps, the Log (super important back in the Sail Age), trinkets and a collection to signify conquests and prizes, and the old school sense that a Naval Captain upon his vessel was God; plain and simple. So I came up with ideas of what a 22nd Century Naval Captain would have in his Ready Room, and Naval antiquity items were the ones I thought of most. Oceanographic maps from His/Her Royal Majesty's Navy were huge, as was the astrolabe and the importance of time (how they measured latitude and longitude back then), the old school 50's Era Salvage Diver Suit (man did those guys have balls), and a few more items that will be mentioned later so a whole section wasn't devoted to the Ready Room. Three future items will be the mechanical chronometer (the 'first' mechanical clock) on the top of the bookcase, a FCW-Era Turian rifle upon a wall (a war trophy), and then a Napoleon-Era British Captains' Undress Uniform in a display case to the side of the desk, the full Blues complete with tasseled bicorn, sword, gloves, boots, and stovepipe. The HMS _Victory_ , for you non-British readers, is the flagship of Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson, the Wolf of the Nile and victor of Trafalgar. BTW, the bookcase will likely never have been made out of chestnut; chestnut trees are almost extinct today due to a blight decades ago.

The James Bond Theme (the original from Dr. No), is actually written by two people, both who claim credit. The orchestral/guitar part was composed by Monty Norman, while the jazz/percussion was crafted and added to by John Berry, a Jazz composer. This has led to many court cases for ownership as Monty Norman does get the residuals for the use of the JBT ever since '62. This is a net worth of well over a million dollars when one thinks of the movies, the games, and the covers over the years.

 _The Wonder Woman Theme_ \- I am not referring to "Is She With You?"/current WW Theme by Hans Zimmer and Tina Gao (how does one become a classically-trained _electric_ cellist, btw?). No, I mean the original TV Series melody that Lynda Carter ran and fought to. Yes, the show is pretty dated and pretty campy (it came out in 1975), but the show was pretty iconic for its time, bringing out a female protagonist that smart, strong, and confident; a rarity of its time. I'm sure Lynda had a legion of little girl fans tuning in on the show (no recording shows back the, even the VCR hadn't really been invented yet), while guys watched it for… well, I'm sure you can figure that one out. She is a former beauty pageant victor (Miss America, 1972).

Renegade Interrupt - Jannie executing Elanos Haliat, the mastermind of the Assault of Elysium. In the game, it shows him being Human despite a) being the only Human to wear a Kuwashii Visor like only Turians did, b) having a flanged voice like a Turian, and c) referring Commander Shepard's 'your kind', indicating that he wasn't suppose to be Human. There will be more details about Haliat and the reason of his attack (not prestige) later on.

 _Ai'a Me_ \- From the Asari Attena Language, translates to "a trusted friend and unquestioned ally". Pronounced "Eye-ya Meh". From the Cerberus Daily News Wikia.

Meeting of the Matron - Stolen from Dara's Asari Wiki, a 'meeting of the Matron' is the Asari version of 'meeting the parents', though generally specifically the father. That particular event can always go in any direction. I've had it from handshakes and a smile to one who showed off his gun collection, commenting on range and experience.

Ready-Heats - My version of the MRE of the future, which stands for 'Meals, Ready-to-Eat'. Ready-Heats are self-contained meals that one heats in an inductive microwave for ten seconds, and ta-da! Ready to eat. It comes in a recyclable cellophane container that can be broken down into PlastiGel (see, I know conservation!)

Like in the Hale/Meer Chronicles, I am likening the _Normandy_ to today's submarines; an all-volunteer crew chosen due to their expertise and professionalism, the equivalent of, say, the Army Rangers; Elite Sailors. For the purposes of this story, the _Normandy_ will be the equivalent of the _Los-Angeles_ , the _Seawolf_ , and the _Virginia_ -Class Fast Attacks; ship-killers. Thanks to LogicalPremise (a former submariner and author of the brilliant yet brutal Of Sheep And Battle Chicken series and its many wonderful addendums) for information on rates, 'C' schools, and why Sinking Navy is the best.

I don't really know how a Sailor gets to be a Petty Officer (Third Class). In the Army, it's based upon promotion points, accomplishments, presentation of self and duties, and leadership potential. I don't even know if the Navy has a board, who handles the whole thing, or what. I know that one gets their 'rate' at E-4, and that's a big deal, as everyone else is Junior Enlisted and… tradeable?

Auntie has her own version of Chuck Norris jokes. You will see them later.

The Toast - Actually from Neil Gaiman's popular _Sandman_ series, specifically _The Seasons Of Mist_ where the Devil gives up.


	12. End Of Watch, II

_Sparatus for Councilor, 2020!_

 **Dock 15-B, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 17, 2183**

Colonial Army Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams was dressed in her Army-issued Systems Alliance Battle Dress Uniform for the day, having already done her daily gauntlet of physical training, a full hour-and-a-half of working out between calisthenics and the few pieces of exercise equipment in the SSV _Normandy's_ Cargo Bay. A quick shower and some Navy grub later, and she felt ready for the day.

The _Normandy_ had arrived at the Arc late last night, during Noc Shift.

"Alright, listen up, folks!" Commander Jane Catherine Shepard spoke up as she stood in the center of the Cargo Bay, addressing her crew, which was assembled in a loose formation. Every Human was there save for the Watch (a couple of Boatswain's and an Officer, as Ash understood it), and most of the others too, since there was really no other place to go. "We're docked at the Arc, so Liberty is set." There were grins at that; Navy was different than Army, and Ash was starting to learn how. "There will be six hours passes for each and every one of you so you can get the things that you need and stretch out your legs. Return is set at 1300 Arc, where we will commence with restock and refit. 1900 Arc will be nighttime Liberty, in which return is set at 0730 Arc. Do _not_ fuck it up." The redhead's voice was stern with authority as her green eyes cast over the sixty-man crew. "Drinking is _not_ allowed for daytime Liberty, boys and girls, and if I smell alcohol, you will be standing Watch as well as facing Non-Judicial Punishment." Yep, no difference there between Army and Navy, that was for sure.

"For our visitors," the Skipper looked to the assembled non-Humans, "you are detailed to this ship, and I have given you access badges that allow you admittance to the Lower Hub. There are species-oriented shops and eateries for visitors if you need to pick something up, but as a reminder this vessel is responsible for your health and welfare, so there's no need to pick up basic supplies when I can pick up the tab. Same rules and time lines apply to you. Fuck it up, and it's the Brig." Aliens couldn't stand Watch for obvious reasons, and the Skipper obviously couldn't threaten them with the Uniformed Code of Military Justice, or UCMJ. Instead, they had a series of small cells for those who didn't like rules. "Any questions?"

That was always a loaded question; it didn't mean to actually _ask_ one.

"Alright! Go to Liberty and enjoy yourself, Normandiers! Dismissed!" The Commander gave off a 'shooing' gesture that didn't need a brother as Sailors whooped in glee, getting off a vessel they had more-or-less been confined to for several weeks, as Ash understood it. Some of the younger Enlisted practically dashed out off the Cargo Bay's opened deployment ramp and onto the Arc Dock, chattering like Junior Enlisted did; conversations about drinking, entertainment, and the ever-important hunt of the most-sought out game in the galaxy; sex. For the Marines, the talking was done at an even dozen decibels louder, one-up'ing each other with manly boasts as they pushed and jostled each other down the gangplank ramp.

"First time on the Arc, Staff Sergeant?"

Ash turned to see Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder standing close, a knowing smile on the shorter, younger woman's face. The sling had come off just that morning, Ash noted, and the Navy Corpsman looked happier to have it off.

"Colonial Army, remember?" The colonist-born brunette reminded the Citadel-born woman with a lopsided smile. "Our assignments come from the Alliance Ministry of Colonization on Earth, and our hub is Jump Zero. Not too often the likes of me gets to see the Arc."

"Well then, guess I get to be the tour guide." Sara winked, gesturing off-ship. "Wouldn't want you to get lost and pull out a compass when there's no magnetic North, Staff Sergeant."

"Watch it, Navy." The Soldier growled half-heartedly, but smirking all the same. "And it's 'Sergeant'." That had Ryder rolling her eyes. Marines called their E-6's by their full title, while it was appropriate for Army E-6's to use the shortened version. Thank God for that; if Ash had to address an E-7 as 'Sergeant First Class' every single time, she'd go nuts. Funny, Marine E-7's were Gunnery Sergeants, but most everyone called them 'Gunny'. Well, no one ever credited the Marine Corps for being _smart_.

Ash followed Sara as they made their way off-ship and onto the dock, her brown eyes immediately sweeping at the strange and exotic location that Ash had only heard of but never visited. Arcturus Station… Humanity's bastion in the stars, it's Citadel, it's pride and joy. At first, it almost looked like the terminal of any other spaceport that Ash had ever seen save that it was heavily populated with military personnel; uniforms were everywhere. On the opposite side of the docks was a large-scaled cafeteria nearby where Sailors and Marines could grab a bite to eat for lunch without having to go far, which was a smart move. Ash snorted as she spotted no less than three Starbuck's Coffee Kiosks. Those things really were fucking everywhere.

"Oh my God!" Sara stopped dead in her tracks about halfway to the cafeteria, her eyes wide as Ash looked to her, and then towards where she was looking. Ash saw a knot of Marines a few dozen meters away, and almost got ran over as Sara sprinted right towards the Marines, calling out ' _Scottttttiiiiieeeee!_ ' the whole way as the Soldier watched the Corpsman practically tackle a young-looking Marine with a hug, the Marine's arms going around her just as quickly. _Boyfriend,_ Ash guessed, seeing the young man hoisting the Sailor up and spinning her about as Sara laughed.

"That's Scott Ryder."

Ash turned to see Commander Shepard standing next to her, the Skipper's face broken in half with a smile. A real one.

"Wait… the BiotiBall player?" Williams blurted, her mouth outrunning her brain. "From the Presidium Toshe Team?" Scott Michael Ryder was one of the few Humans good enough to play professional BiotiBall, though he had been in an Amateurs League. He had been voted Most Valuable Player two years in a row in his League, and his Number 32 was actually going to be cased and retired, if rumors were true. Ash wasn't a huge fan of the sport, but she had watched the Toshe to see Scott 'the Viper' Ryder beat some alien ass. Waitaminute… Scott Ryder… _Sara_ Ryder… "They're siblings?"

"Twins." The redhead replied with a quick juke of her copper eyebrows. "She calls him 'Silver Medal'."

"Heh. Guess that explains that one." Williams chuckled. Yeah, 'Silver Medal' for second place in _that_ race. She could see Sara and Scott just… _looking_ at each other, the joy and amazement evident even at this distance. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Two years." The Skipper replied, her tone a little sad. "Together everyday since _before_ they were born, but their choices forced them apart. I remember how they both messaged me of their struggles with that. It… was heartbreaking, honestly." Ash got that; she had three sisters herself, and leaving home for Basic Training had been hard. With twins? Even more so. "Called him up and asked him to request a forty-eight hour Liberty Pass for the Arc, and gave him a time and a location."

"You're a good Auntie." Ash knew that Commander Jane Shepard wasn't actually related to Sara Ryder; she had seen the movie, of course. But family didn't always mean some shared DNA, after all. The Army taught her that all too well. "She needed this." Sara had just lost her platoon of Marines thanks to the fucking Geth, including one she had helped survive damn near a day of fighting with, an eighteen year old kid. It had been hard as hell on Ash with her own grief with the 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry Regiment (Eden Prime), her platoon and company massacred before her very eyes, along with the other companies and battalions responsible for Constant. She was still dealing with it, and she wasn't some twenty-year old kid. "Guess my tour guide got pulled away." Ash snarked, making the Commander snort.

"Are bad jokes an Army value?" Williams just groaned at that as Shepard chuckled at the point. They had been going back and forth, like Army and Navy always did. Honestly… Ash needed it. "C'mon, Soldier. Don't want you chucking yourself out an airlock looking to get some fresh air."

"Gawd, everyone's a critic."

* * *

Corporal Scott Michael Ryder sat at a table at the local cafeteria at the dock of the Lower Hub, his twin sister sitting across from him as she jabbered on, her face practically glowing as they reconnected. It had been two years since they had seen one another, an eternity for a twin, and seeing Sara now?

 _God, where the hell did she get those muscles?_ Scott couldn't help _but_ look at her biceps, her Alliance Blues' sleeves rolled up neatly above the bicep, like Marines were allowed to do. It was, of course, to promote the strength of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps, but Scott had never expected his eternally effervescent _sister_ to have arms almost as big and just as well-defined as his. He could even tell the thickness of her shoulders through her uniform. She had always been a very dedicated woman, throwing herself completely into something she thought worthy of herself. Her acceptance into the Presidium Academy of Education and her amazing grades were proof of that, on top of the fact that she worked as a Citadel Emergency Medical Technician at fifteen _while_ at one of the most prestigious schools in the galaxy. Scott was proud as hell of his Sara, seeing her succeed in what she wanted most.

Her dream was becoming true right before their eyes; working alongside Aunt Jannie. Who was now Humanity's First SPECTRE.

Yeah, Scott was pretty damn jealous.

But then Sara had broken down and tearfully told him about Therum.

Scott was just as dedicated as his twin sister, but he was of a different path. Sara had aways been the smart one, the over-achiever. Back when he had been a boy growing up, he had been so dead determined not to be eclipsed, so Scott Ryder chose to be an athlete, as skilled and as talented as he could be. He grew up playing in an Earth Urban Combat Championship Team along with other Human boys in the Citadel in a Youth League, joined a team in the Armax Arsenal Arena Amateurs League, but found his passion and edge in BiotiBall. At fifteen, Scott had been one of the youngest players in the game, and he had quickly rose in the ranks and standings of the popular sport, usually finding himself facing off against Asari, Biotic Turians, and young Krogan with the Soulfire. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that he'd gotten popular quickly, a young Human male in a galaxy-wide sport that was not only doing well, but became the Captain of his team due to his skills, talents, and bravado. Sara had supported him, of course, going to as many games as she could and fixing up his injuries with her growing medical knowledge and experience.

He had actually turned down a contract to go professional to become a Systems Alliance Marine.

It really shouldn't have been surprising to see that the twin children of the Human Pathfinder, Captain Alec Clancy Ryder, would serve their species. Despite all that they had achieved as teenagers, with the possibility of continuing the same endeavors (Scott as a professional athlete, and Sara had scholarships for medical schools), both had wanted to feel… Human. Growing up on the Cit had been amazing, and Scott wouldn't trade it for anything, the ancient station forever being his home. Yet they had grown up with only a small population of Humans to interact with, and visiting Earth-borns or Colony-borns would always tease them of their 'funny' accents… or straight up get hostile. Scott never understood how it was that he could get along better with Turians then he could members of his own species, as if somehow being born outside of the Systems Alliance somehow made him a traitor or not Human. It wasn't all of the Earth-borns or colonists, but there were a good many of them. But Scott had never been anywhere where Humanity was the majority population, had never seen a Human-held area, never visited one colony. He had felt like he was missing something, like he _should_ contribute something back for the amazing childhood he understood to have had to the species he had been less-than apart of. So he had went and become a Marine.

That… hadn't worked out quite to plan.

In two years time, Scott had done _nothing_. He pulled Watch on a Destroyer-Class vessel, the SSV _Flavius_ , as standard-duty for all Marines on-board a Navy vessel. The Tenth Sustainment Flotilla was a reactionary unit; if there was a distress call or an emergency, they were sent to the situation. If there was nothing going on, they sat at Relay 202 to monitor any activity coming in and out of the Relay since it did connect to the Attican Traverse via another system's Relay. For two years, Scott had been on the _Flavius_ for three four-month tours, and then spending the intervening four months on the Arc standing Watch on the docked vessel as it went refit and redeployment. Two years… and nothing to show for it. Sure, yes, he got his Corporal in a good amount of time, knocking out on-line college courses and military correspondence courses during his off-shift, pushing himself ahead of his peers. That was something he was proud of, but being a Corporal without a Combat Drop Badge or a Deployment Tab was rather weak.

But after what Sara told him about Therum? Scott wished he wasn't so eager to prove himself a Marine, now.

Thirty-seven Marines and a Corpsman against a thousand Geth? The numbers had the young man in shock, really. That was like… twenty-five to one! They were still getting news about Eden Prime ten days after it happened, and Scott hadn't heard of Therum yet, no doubt the Admiralty Board going through the information. Battalions of Colonial Army just utterly wiped out, only one known survivor of the assault from beginning to end, one Staff Sergeant Ashley "Lone Wolf" Williams, rescued by none other than his Aunt, Commander Jane Shepard. Now a platoon of Marines was utterly gone, only six survivors, his sister included. The thought of Sara in danger, how close she had been to being killed? That had Scott's blood run cold. What if… what if she had been killed? After not seeing her for so long, to have her just snuffed out, just like that? It was a pain that lanced through his very core, something that terrified him. The past two years, being without her, Scott had to fill in the the times with something when he missed her, when that part of his soul was looking for its other half. If the Geth had killed her? He wasn't sure how he would manage without his twin.

And she was going to be on the _Normandy_ with their Aunt; the Lion, an N7 and a Council Agent, now.

Sara was going to _war_.

"Sara, are you sure about this?" Scott looked to his sister, the young woman's blue eyes scrunching up a little at his question. "I'm not questioning your resolve or your skills. I just… I'm afraid for you, Sara. I don't know what I'd do if… if I heard that you were killed." Sara reached a hand out and put it on top of his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. She understood.

"It could be you too, Scottie." The Corpsman smiled to her brother. "You're on a Red Alert Unit and the Geth are just popping up out of nowhere and we don't know how or why. You could be the one sent next." Damn, she had a point. Two weeks ago Scott was positively _itching_ for action, back when the big threats were pirates, slavers, and smugglers. Now? _Geth_. "Just… promise me this, Scottie. If you do get called? If you're sent out? BiotiBall tactics, keep changing them and keep the pressure up."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." His sister smiled, though there wasn't joy in it. She was still hurting on the inside from the loss of her Marines. There was no doubt in Scott's mind that she was a Doc through-and-through, and that loss was hitting her hard. "The Geth adapt to tactics quickly. If you keep changing them, you'll keep them off-balance. Also…" Her face grew pained, something Scott hadn't seen in a long time. "Don't let them get a hold of the bodies. Auntie said it best; they _assimilate_ them." It took Scott a moment to recognize the term, but when he did? He felt his blood go cold again.

"Like… the _Borg_?"

"That's what happened with my platoon on the surface." The female Ryder replied, her voice weak as her blue eyes went onto Scott's own hazel eyes, the pain and grief ready to pounce on her. "Those motherfuckers desecrated their bodies in the worst way possible, Scottie; they turned them into the enemy." Sara shut her eyes quick to stop the threat of tears as Scott squeezed his sisters' hand, feeling her squeezing it in return. The thought of something that horrified him. It couldn't be possible, but his sister had never been one to be given into flights of fancy or dramatic exaggerations. "They did that on Eden Prime. The did it on Therum. I can only imagine they'll do it in other places, too."

"Let me ask again; are you sure of this?" Scott wasn't an idiot. Aunt Jannie had been in the spotlight for years now, and her being made a SPECTRE and charged with hunting down the Bloody Talon himself meant that Jannie was going to be the very tip of the spear. The worst locations, the hardest missions, the toughest objectives, failure unacceptable. Aunt Jannie was a trained-and-true N7 who had been doing such things for half-a-decade now, toting the best guns and equipment the Alliance had, and then making her own. While he worried for her, Scott knew that his Aunt was prepared. His sister Sara was no slouch, but she didn't have the years of experience that Aunt Jannie did. In truth, he didn't want his sister in that fight. It scared him to think of it.

"I… didn't have a choice on Therum. None of us did." Sara began, her voice thick as she looked to her hands, and then to her brother. "We took our assignment seriously, but even after the news of the Geth attack on Eden Prime, there was no way we could have prepared ourselves for what was going to happen. They dumped… a thousand platforms on us, Scott, obviously to obliterate us without question. I was frightened as hell, of course, in that Dig Site, surrounded by rock and waiting for our last moments. They just kept coming and coming, sending a dozen or so at a time, keeping us from really resting or sleeping, just pressuring us enough to stay in place. There were a dozen times when I should have died down there, or one of my Marines. The only reason we didn't was because of our Biotics; there was me and then two Asari. The Geth _have_ no adaptability against Biotics. Yet."

"So you want to see this through?" Scott was pretty sure he was seeing what Sara was thinking. It wasn't necessarily because of the Marines she had lost, but that was a part of it. No, there was something else.

"Scott… I couldn't just walk away knowing that it's _going_ to happen again." His sister said with finality, and that, Scott understood. "If I just… walked away and let the Navy stuff me somewhere else? I'd probably end up in another Marine unit that might face the Geth and I would be looking at the same disaster again, or perhaps shuttled off to some quiet spot where nothing happens… but the thoughts that won't go away." Yeah, Scott was right. Sara was too much like Dad; never one to let a wrong _stay_ wrong. "At least on the _Normandy_ , I'm surrounded by exceptional people, ones who have an improved chance separate, and a great chance together. Seeing to them as we dive in? I… want this. Scared as hell, and it might cost me my life, Scott, but this is _exactly_ where I'm needed, and I want it."

"I know." Sara was perfect, honestly; three years as a Cit paramedic, two more years as a Navy Corpsman, now a Fleet Marine Corpsman. There were probably some Humans out there that had worked on other species, but nowhere near the experience Sara had. And how many of them had been preparing themselves for combat? Were ready for it right now? The Attack on Eden Prime had enlistments tripling amongst Humanity, but it would be weeks and months before any of them graduated Boot Camp or Basic Training. What the Alliance military had right now was what was going to be defending Humanity for the next six months or so.

And they had already lost too many.

"Sara," Scott took his sisters' hands into his own, his hazel eyes looking into her own blue ones, "I respect your decision to go. You've spent years getting to be where you're at now, and now you are the perfect candidate when we need them the most. I'm proud as hell of you, Minute Rice." The old nickname had his sister snort and smile, just as Scott intended. "When you're facing the Geth, give it your all. That's the only way you're going to survive from one mission to the next. You've got the brains, you've certainly got the brawn now," Sara snorted at that again as her smile grew wider, "and you've worked you're whole life into becoming the kind of woman you've always wanted to be."

"And what's that?"

"An angel." Scott replied with a smile, making Sara's smile twist into a lop-sided grin. "I'm not talking those robe-wearing feathered chicks with harps and whatnot. I mean the fist of God, wrath of the Heavens angel, burning sword in one hand, helping those in need with the other. For the Bravest Generation, they had Dad, Poppa Bear, Aunt Hanna, Uncle Steven, Aunt Stacy, Uncle Tadius and Pop-Pops. For this generation? We've got you and Aunt Jannie to look up to."

"That's… wow. It's really going to be that way, isn't it?" Sara looked a little sheepish at the thought. She had been a bit of a celebrity after the Assault of Elysium, people charmed by the Angel of Illyeria. She was a spunky girl back then, and she had been so endearing during a time of grief, a child hero who had fought not with weapons, but compassion. Scott wasn't far off the mark; his sister and his aunt likely were the next Bravest Generation, the ones Humans would look up to, the leaders of the pack. His smart and sassy sister upon the pedestal again, standing tall amongst her kind, Firstborn Cit-born showing what a Human can do. "Least I got 'Scope 'Em And Drop 'Em' Vakarian watching my back."

"Holy shit, you've got Detective Vakarian on the _Normandy_?" His jaw was practically hitting the table at that. Detective Garrus Vakarian was a celebrated cop on the Cit, and supposedly the best shot in all of the Rapid Response Unit. Scott was a big fan of the former Blackwatch Talon Leader-cum-Detective of Special Crimes _and_ Rapid Response Unit Sniper. "The Geth are so _fucked_."

"Yeah, imagine him watching your back." Sara smirked big time at that, obviously rubbing it in that she would be working with Detective Vakarian. Again.

"I almost feel sorry for the Geth." Scott replied whimsically, his smile growing nasty right along with Sara's, a matching set that only twins could do as they spoke at the same time.

" _Almost."_

* * *

"Admiral, Commander Shepard reporting as ordered."

"Jane." Commander Jane Shepard smiled as she stood at attention, saluting the man in front of her as he stood up from his office desk, coming around with a smile on his disfigured features and a hand extending to shake. Jannie dropped the salute and smiled as she shook the hand of Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Steven 'Lance' Hackett. "Good to see you, Jannie. I've gotten your latest from Therum." The handshake was over with, and they were down to business. It was one of the things that Jannie truly appreciated with Uncle Steven, the former SOAR pilot whom her mother was a co-pilot to, as well as her father and Poppa Bear being a part of the same unit, the Night Stalkers. Most assumed that Steven Hackett was a bit of a cold-hearted man, but Jannie knew better. He was _utterly_ devoted in the defense and protection of Mankind, and he didn't waste time on politics or debates. If he saw a problem, he solved it. If he saw an issue, he crushed it. He had gotten his rank not through the military political game or kissing ass, but by being one of the most lethal Naval commanding officers since Fleet Master Jon Grissom.

"It was bad, but we pulled a win." Jannie took to a seat in a guest chair, noting the spartan decorations and decor of Uncle Steven's personal office. Besides a shadow box containing his personal awards (of which there were many) placed on a bookshelf, the only other personalization of the office were exactly three framed pictures; physical ones, at that.

One was of 160th SOAR (Night Stalkers), a picture of a nineteen-man Special Operations Aviation Regiment crew that were now legends, the pinnacle of the Bravest Generation. Jannie didn't need to look on it to know who was on there; her mother, her father, Poppa Bear, Uncle Steven, Uncle Alec, Aunt Val, Uncle Royce, Aunt Jill, Uncle Z, Uncle Jack, Uncle Tad, Aunt Beezy, Aunt Sun, Uncle Mike, Uncle Sjorgen, Aunt Ana, Aunt Katie, Uncle Krem, and Uncle Ricky.

The second picture was a Twenty-Fifth Anniversary picture that the surviving unit had been more-or-less made to do by the Systems Alliance Government at New Beijing, Shanxi, where the worst fighting had been and the informal 'cease-fire' had been enacted. There, only ten were present; Admiral Hannah Singer, Captain David Anderson, Admiral Steven Hackett, Captain (ret.) Alec Ryder, Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino, Master Chief Petty Officer Royce Mason, Admiral Tadius Ahern, Command Sergeant Major Jill 'Amazon' Dah, Sergeant Major Sun Moon, and Senior Chief Petty Officer (ret.) Katherine Hale.

The last picture was… a touching one, one that didn't feature warriors, but children. There were four, the kids of the Night Stalkers, pictured together. There she was, Jannie in the middle, with Sara Ryder and Scott Ryder to her front, and finally Amanda Ahern shoulder-to-shoulder with Jannie, all smiles. The twins were eight at the time, she almost seventeen, and Amanda going off to Military Academy a few months later. In some ways they had all grown up together, their parents friends, so thus they themselves a sort of strange nuclear family. It had actually been a while since Jannie had seen Amanda's image. She never lived to see twenty-one, a training accident gone horrible wrong

"The reports you've given us are comprehensive, and the footage is being poured over by ONI analysts for any tidbit we can glean." Uncle Steven replied, sitting back at his seat, his holographic monitor powered down so he could talk to her. "The multiple reports, as well as the inclusion of Sara's reports from her own experience before your arrival on Therum will help us in the fight, but only by margins, I'm afraid."

"The Geth are unlike anything we've ever seen or faced." Jannie concluded on her own, the Admiral nodding his head in agreement. "I'm still trying to figure out how the hell they were about to show up in our space _twice_ without tripping over anybody! Unless they bum rush a Relay and destroy all the recon probes and defensive checkpoints and we somehow went blind and stupid, the only other conclusions I can think of is that they've found a Relay into our space that we have yet to discover, FTL'ing to these systems with some rather long-range capabilities, or they've got some sort of stealth system, like the _Normandy_."

"We've ruled out stealth, since we've picked them up on thermals and LADAR in Utopia Space during the Assault on Eden Prime." Hackett replied, obviously having thought the same thing. "It could be a possibility that there is a Relay in Alliance Space that connects to these systems, and I'm currently having several astrological teams as well as Relay specialists looking into it. It will take time to discover, sadly." Yeah, that was the truth. Generally one had to know _where_ to go to connect from one Relay to another. Relay exploration was fraught with danger, and the scientific vessels that did so were usually equipped for a long-term plan in case they exited out of a one-way translation with no return Relay to translate back. It had happened before back during the Expansion Period, before the First Contact War, and a few times afterwards. "If they've found a translation point with a hub that leads into these systems, it would certainly explain how they've gotten the jump on us twice now. _There_ _will not be a third time._ " Uncle Steven's scarred countenance was generally all the motivation one needed to do one's job to beyond expectation. Yet when he was furious, most everyone jumped and scrambled with miracles ready to serve.

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"Honestly, the original plan is scraped, not shelved." Jannie merely 'hmm'ed' at that, guessing that she was probably going to end up a very silent, very lethal spear against the Batarian Hegemony. _Shelved_ meant for later use. _Scrapped_ meant no longer applicable. If the Batarians had the sense God gave a slug, they would be gushing gratitude at the Geth for their timely intervention. "The Hegemony is not much more than a paper tiger, thanks to intel collected by recon probes, piggybacking signals, data trawls, and Night Owl ops. We can honestly create an insurrection amongst their own people and watch them kill each other in a civil war and not spend a Credit as long as we patrol their borders for potential opportunists and raiders looking to make a profit. That's on hold for now. Eden Prime sent grave concerns from the very bottom to the very top of Humanity, Jannie. The Geth came out of nowhere, practically destroyed Constant, and damn near wiped it off the face of the galaxy. I don't know their endgame yet, but it is very clear that the Geth are unlike any enemy we've ever faced before."

"Yeah, a whole new version of war." The Geth weren't emotional, drawn into political squabbles, and weren't interested in diplomatic shouting matches. They struck with machine-like precision, hosting numbers that outstripped anything the Alliance could immediately field, and had an obvious tactical advantage. Any engagement with the Geth Fleet or its ground forces were likely to be losses with heavy casualties. No wonder the Council was so quick to throw Humanity under the airbus; the Turians were no doubt learning everything they could without doing any of the bleeding. Assholes. Their tune would change once a Turian colony got struck and someone found a megaton Polonium bomb to irradiate the battle site and everything within five hundred kilometers. Thank God she had an EOD-trained expert in First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, otherwise the _continent_ Constant was on would have become a high-rad lethal zone.

"Your mission is to find priority objectives of the Geth and to either recover those objectives for our use, or ultimately deny them for the Geth." Uncle Steven told her, his grim face even more grim, somehow. "I know of Council Agent Saren Arterius, and David is correct; the Turian hates Mankind with a passion. If he is truly leading them as oppose to just being a convenient ally, he will find ways to hurt us in new and imaginative ways. If he is using the Geth to support his cause or views, then that is your most obvious objective; keep that criminal from getting what he wants. As likely as it will be that his fury will cost more lives, it will also make him irrational."

"And he'll start making mistakes." Jannie concluded, getting a nod from the Admiral. "I know that he's searching for something Prothean, and I just picked up two experts, one of them being the Dean of Prothean Research and Study from the University of Serrice. I'll collaborate with her for active Prothean sites and potential high-tech discovery possibilities and see what we can keep an eye on for Geth activity. He's also got Krogan merc at his disposal. No real surprises, there."

"I saw." Combat footage never did pull punches, and no doubt Uncle Steven watched little Sara Ryder rip off a Krogan's headplate after taunting him. No doubt that was on a 'favorites' list. "That would be another point of investigation to look to; to see where the meat is going. I'll have ONI scour our contacts through the larger merc companies and gangs to see who's throwing Credits for bodies. Sooner or later, we'll start getting points to look into." That was a pretty standard way to look for pirates and slaver bases; the filth plussing up their forces with some thugs.

"Saren's a Council Agent, he isn't going to think along the normal lines." Something Sara had said just yesterday had Jannie thoughtful. "Uncle, the man was educated in one of the best schools in the galaxy; Sara's, actually. As I understand it, there's a bit of a community network amongst the Presidium Academy Alumni. If one is a Peer, they can ask for favors from lower-ranked graduates and they're _suppose_ to provide as long as it isn't really illegal or unethical. Just the thought of someone with a high-class education where said person is put on a pedestal by their species and expected to reach high-level business and political vocations is kind of scary. Saren wouldn't have to ask for something malicious, just another piece of a puzzle he needs."

"Hmm. I wasn't aware of that. We'll look into it." The Admiral nodded. "That's good, though. That provides us with other options. I know Sara graduated in the top five, could she do the same?"

"Yes… to a certain degree." Jannie knew the truth; Sara's biggest problem in the Academy was her race. She had spent years being antagonized for being a Human. Likely, anything that Sara might ask for in the way of information or intelligence might be denied without repercussion. "Surprisingly, I've actually got _four_ Alumni on-board as we speak. Doctor Liara T'soni, Detective Garrus Vakarian, and Agent not-Dalatrass Zevin Raeka all went to the Academy as well. If Sara can't, one of them might be able to. Hell, together? They went an invented a Faraday Cage grenade that latched on with magnetics in a cave using… I dunno, a coconut and an OmniTool?" That had Hackett chuckling. "Sara's already compiling some ideas on how we can plus up our weapons and our tech. I'm good at what I do, but she's brilliant, honestly. She went and created battle-deployment armor using OmniGel that I physically watched gush out and adhere to her Phoenix Armor. My Pilgrims instantly got jealous."

"Having someone innovating will certainly be a help in the coming weeks." Steven reached into his desk and pulled out a red-bordered FOUO datapad, one that came encrypted, couldn't be tampered with or copied, and was usually destroyed right after. "I've had this in the works for a year or so now, and it became official two days ago. Your orders… _Captain Shepard_."

 _Wai… what?_

Jannie took the datapad in hand, pressing her thumb to the biometric scanner to identify herself, seeing an icon hourglass rotate twice before confirming her identity and accepting her need-to-know. It was a standard orders from the Systems Alliance Human Resource Command, naming herself in the personnel column. On it was the kicker.

"I'm being frocked?" Jannie was stunned, to say the least. She had just made her full Commander less than six months ago! And now she was being _frocked_? That meant that she would be promoted fully to Captain during the next fiscal year on October 1, when the Captain's Promotions List came in. Being frocked meant many things. She would wear the rank, bear the title, and even get the pay on the date of the orders (which Jannie was amused to see was two days prior). Being a Captain in the Navy was a _huge_ deal, both for Unrestricted Line Officers (which she technically was now) and Special Warfare Officers (which she still was). She could legitimately command both vessel and N team, even both at the same time, like Poppa Bear. Obviously, whoever was to be Humanity's First SPECTRE was going to be unleashed, able to command their vessel for the needs of the mission, which just made sense.

But the orders had so much more.

"Wait… this… says I'm in command of a _Battle Group_?" That… was a good deal more than just being 'a Captain'. Though there were Captains in charge of Cruiser-led mini-Fleets for patrols, about half of the Battle Groups were led by Real Admirals (Lower Half).

"On paper." Hackett replied, a small smile on his scarred lips. "That will be the official story, you being in command of a full Battle Group. We even have something to keep up the fiction for the military watchers. On the other hand, there will be things that you _actually_ will be receiving due to your position. Like the budget." Jannie looked from her Uncle to the datapad in hand, and found the budget allowance.

"Holy shit." Shepard was… flummoxed. She never used that word in her entire life, but it felt utterly appropriate now. To run the SSV _Normandy_ , she was given in excess of fifty megaCredits monthly for expenses to run the vessel for the month as an allotment. According to the orders in her hand, she was given the budget to run a Battle Group that consisted of _twenty-five_ vessels, from a _York_ -Class Cruiser down to a dozen _Corvette_ -Class Knuckledusters. But she would command only one ship. That meant she could outfit the _Normandy_ and her crew with anything and practically everything. Topping off the tanks with high-grade Heavy Helium for better performance, triple-refined Eezo for lesser discharge and optimum power output, custom-made armor kits for the _Normandy_ for added protection, improved Anti-Matter warheads for weaponry, and customized cyberwarfare suites to protect delicate ship instrumentation and computer suites. There was the list compiled by Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly of the things that needed upgrading, improving, and re-calibrated. Now she could afford them all and then some. Easily. Hell, she could outfit her entire ground team with the best equipment as well, paying top Credit for a rush order! She understood why such the lofty budget; to keep her on top of her game, to one-up the competition every time.

Jannie knew they were going to need it. Hell, it might not be enough.

"So whose command will I fall under? I'm not under the impression that you're just going to let me off the hook with an experimental Frigate and millions of Credits without some sort of oversight." Jannie asked, still feeling a little dizzy at the prospect. This was beyond a dream come true, but in the worst way possible.

"There's really only one man in the entirety of the Systems Alliance who can understand your position. What it entails, what it needs, what _you_ need." The Admiral smiled. "Thanks to our asshole of an Ambassador, he's in the perfect position to do what's best for you. Couldn't pick a better man."

"Poppa Bear." Jannie smiled, and the thought cheered her up immensely. Being under the command of her Poppa Bear was a boon, the man a dedicated warrior and father figure. Uncle Steven was right, there really wasn't anyone else who would likely understand what it meant to be a SPECTRE, Captain David Anderson having been a candidate himself. "So he's going to be a Joint Task Force Commander? As a Captain?"

"David's getting frocked as well. Long time coming, if you asked me." Jannie knew what that meant; Poppa Bear was getting his Admiral rank, something he had refused for years so he could be a part of the Teams, being where he loved to be. "I know that command of the _Normandy_ was to be his last hoorah before he was going to be considered, but we need him to aid your endeavors and try to keep the idiocy down to a minimum. The last thing that we need is a bunch of politicians thinking they know what's going on or what they are talking about. Not to mention social media reporters." That had Jannie snort. "Anderson will field the public relations as well as the military resource so you can focus on your mission."

"Is that all my mission is, to track Saren and the Geth? To do the bidding of the Council?" Jannie wasn't too sure about all that. When Poppa Bear and Agent Kryik had first informed her, she had barely gotten the idea wrapped around her head before Joker had intercepted the emergency signal that was issued from Staff Sergeant's Lieutenant, Lieutenant Durand. Everything else after that point was just a long-running uphill battle between fighting the Geth, recovering from the Beacon, tracking down the evidence of Saren Arterius' involvement and guilt, and finally Sara's message of the attack on Therum.

"For now, Council interests and our own are in alignment." Admiral Hackett replied, folding his hands together. "As I understand it, most SPECTREs are watchdogs over their own governments and species to curtail any illegal activities, Convention violations, and anything that breaks the Treaty of Farixen. For you, this likely might not be the case since you're so obviously a SPECTRE thanks to the highly-publicized announcement and various media outlets. Once we actually start having more than a couple or a few, that will more likely be the case. Continue the hunt for Arterius and his allies, disrupt whatever they have planned, and find any intelligence we can exploit. For now, the reaction from Earth and Sol System is to consolidate our forces into a defensive posture to protect our people, our shipping lanes, and any routes towards our heavier industries we need to survive. While this doesn't stop the Geth, leaving these areas of interest undermanned means the Geth can attack us in ways that will ripple throughout Earth Alliance Space." The Admiral's face went sour. "We just don't have the manpower to cover the territory we have, Jannie. You, for now, are our spear, our Lion."

"No pressure." Jannie snarked, a wry smile upon her lips.

"Green pickle award, Captain." The smile was back, and Jannie just sighed as her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool dinged with a Chirp, and she saw a holographic icon that popped up to indicate that it was from Sara. Jannie queued it up and saw the message, and her heart was tugged at the message.

 _You are cordially invited to the memorial service of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Infantry Regiment at ArcBar at 2000 Arc._

"Shit." Shepard muttered, knowing what a Marine Wake entailed. "Our little Angel's holding a Marine Wake tonight at the ArcBar." Uncle Steven's face merely twitched at that. "Poor girl's taken a hard hit with the loss of her men. I know she doesn't go and say it, but she feels like she abandoned them when she went to her position inside the Dig Site. Feels like they died because Doc wasn't with them."

"I know Katie felt that way." Senior Chief Petty Officer Katherine Hale had been the Night Stalker's Fleet Marine Corpsman, a woman who had made herself into a combat medic for sake of species and those of her unit. Even to this day, Aunt Katie couldn't look Jannie in the eye due to her father's death, the Petty Officer having not been there when First Lieutenant John Shepard, Lieutenant (junior grade) David Anderson, Sergeant Jill Dah, and Corporals Tadius Ahern and Zaeed Massani fought Turian Blackwatch members to a standstill while First Lieutenant Alec Ryder and the rest of the Night Stalkers evacuated a hospital filled with refugees. Jannie's father had died during the desperate defense, saving innocent lives, dying in his best friend's arms. According to her mother, Aunt Katie had supposedly held three-year old Jane Shepard in her arms, begging the child's' forgiveness for not being there for her father.

It wasn't Aunt Katie that Jannie blamed.

"I guess I better set some booze aside if I want my men to have anything to drink tomorrow." Uncle Steven said wryly, making Jannie snort.

"Good luck. Marines can hunt a beer from sense of smell a parsec away." That had the Admiral chuckle knowingly. "There's only one thing that'll keep a Marine from alcohol, Uncle."

"Better guard that, too. Don't need a bunch of baby Marines nine months from now." Jannie just peeled with laughter.

* * *

Author's Note: I invented a space funeral. :'-(

* * *

 _You are cordially invited to the memorial service of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Infantry Regiment at ArcBar at 2000 Arc._

Now-frocked Captain Jane Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) had gotten the Chirp earlier in the day from Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Ryder and knew what it would entail. By the string of addresses attached to the Chirp, it seemed that the Corpsman had invited everyone on the SSV _Normandy's_ Ground Team (which was tradition for adjoining units to be included) and anyone else who was on Therum (again, that was pretty standard), along with the encompassing address of 3/7 MAR. That meant anyone in, attached, or a part of the 3rd Marine Battalion, or the 7th Marine Infantry Regiment. No surprises there. The N7 wondered briefly how many people would show up, and how much alcohol would be involved. Knowing Marines, the answer would likely be _all of it_. Jannie had forwarded the inclusion to the owner of the ArcBar earlier, giving them a heads-up to stock up on the booze, and then giving her account number to pay for the drinks.

Sara had taken the deaths of her thirty-two Marines hard. Likely, she'd be taking to the bottle equally as hard.

Shepard showed up thirty minutes prior to the start to find that the five surviving Marines and their Doc already there, dressed in their Alliance Blues, Sara easy to pick out amongst them as she was the only woman in the group, and her Navy Blues a lighter shade than the darker hue the Marines wore. They all had their blouse sleeves rolled up to the appropriate standard that the SAMC generously allowed, showing off muscled arms to impress upon others their strength, and in that, Ryder was no stranger. Her sleeves were equally bloused just as high, rolled up and buttoned above her biceps, with well-defined biceps and triceps that were thick for a woman. It had been two years since Jane had seen her friend before Therum, and those two years had changed Sara. Jannie was still getting use to the fact that no longer was she the petite, lithe, perky little teenager that was an absolute bundle of energy. Still petite, but she had gone from lanky to athletic, her shoulders seemingly as muscular as her arms, a bastion of lean muscle mass worshiped appropriately with rigorous training and long-term strengthening exercises.

Seeing her in her Navy Blues along with Marines, Jane was touched to see that Sara Ryder fit right in, just like a Fleet Marine Doc should. She wasn't some skimpy or flubby Navy bus driver standing next to pillars of muscles and testosterone, some last-minute attachment from a Dispensary because Marines wanted a medic just in case they got hurt. No, Sara looked like a Femarine, muscles and attitude, a woman who held her head high and proud amongst Marines. Fairer sex? Yes. Gentler sex? No, not by a long fucking shot. Anyone fucked with Doc's Marines, and she looked easily capable of snapping a motherfucker in half; a Krogan's headplate was testimony to that. Her Marines, and no one else's. Shepard walked to a quiet corner as Sara was talking to one of the Private's, Louis Broussard. Brassiere, that was his nickname. Only a Marine would name another Marine after feminine undergarments and live to tell the tale. Hell, one guy was called 'Lapdance' and another 'Ballsack'. Shepard knew that Docs generally didn't get nicknames; Doc was a good one in of itself, a Corpsman who would run in under fire to pull out a casualty, providing medical care to save a life. Yet Sara had earned herself one, and Jane had overheard it on the _Normandy_ ; TBG. No one explained the acronym, but the N7 figured it on her own after a second or two. TBG, toughest bitch in the galaxy. It wasn't just a nickname; it was a title.

The woman responsible for the deaths of over a hundred Geth platforms by her own hand? Yeah, the Geth got a good look at that title as it punched them in the face, didn't it?

Shepard wasn't too surprised by the turnout in the ArcBar, the station's main bar in the Lower Hub of Arcturus Station. It was generally the Enlisted Bar, while the NCO Bar was in the Mid-Hub, and the Officer's Bar in the Upper Hub. Technically, Sara could have held the service at any of the three, but she had picked the 'rowdier' one, one where her Marines would likely feel more comfortable at. Most of the Normandiers had showed up, along with the entirety of the ground team. Seeing a Krogan and a Turian at a Human military bar was certainly a sight, but no one was messing with either the half-tonne mercenary or the Turian in armor still decorated in C-SEC RRU colors. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay were sitting at a table with Lieutenant Greg Adams, along with two others from Engineering, obvious to be nearby the few Humans she could relate to engineering-wise, and Doctor Liara T'soni and Professor Irissa T'vara occupied a table of their own, most likely out of the splash zone of drool from the Human males (and a few female ones, too). There were a good many others in the ArcBar Shepard didn't know; several Marines of varying rank, a few Naval personnel, Enlisted and Officer, and even a couple of civilians; family members? The service was going to begin, and Jane saw Sara spy her out amongst the crowd, and gave her a smile and a nod. This was going to be hard on Sara, but she would do it regardless.

 _Semper Fidelis_ , after all.

When it was 2000 on the dot, Petty Officer Sara Ryder raised her fingers in her mouth and blew out a twilling whistle in the bar in the sound of a Bosum's Whistle, _tttttWWWWWEEEEEeeeeettttt!_ Whatever conversations were going died immediately as every head at the ArcBar turned to look upon the Petty Officer surrounded by five Marines. If anyone had come not knowing what was about to happen, they were going to learn the hard way.

Marines had died for their people. Now the people were going to honor their memories.

"Barkeep! Degresser and twenty-one shots!" Sara shouted for all the bar to hear, calling for the potent, terrible-tasting liquor that was used for one thing, and one thing only. It was only distilled in the Arc, said that the still was made from the parts of an old STS engine, and brewed from the tears of mothers, widows, and orphans. No one ordered Degresser save for one purpose and one purpose only; _in memoriam_. It was bottled in glass, with a wide-neck port, and enough liquor to filling twenty-one shotglasses. Technically, the bottle was a fifth of an Imperial Gallon, but only twenty-six and a quarter Imperial Ounces were put into the bottle with a neck big enough to shove an orange through. The label was a broad white bare label with nothing on it; no manufacture, no name, no print, nothing to sully the surface. No one said a word as the barkeeper filled twenty-one shot glasses with the potent liquor, rated at one hundred and eighty-proof; ninety percent alcohol. Every one was filled to the line, not a drop wasted. They were lined in a row on the bar, and only five Marines and a Sailor dared approached them. Six hands went to six shotglasses. Sara looked to Jane, and gave the Captain a nod. It was time.

"Ready!" Shepard called out. "Aim!" The six glasses were lifted. "Fire!" The remaining members of 1B3/7 did the shots, in which once they were done, the shotglasses were violently hurled to the bar's floor, the glasses shattering into pieces. Their faces said it all; the liquor was possibly the worst-tasting in existence. "Ready! Aim! Fire!" The second shot was done, and the glasses went to the floor, breaking into shards. Several of the Marines were coughing, their faces in agony. "Ready! Aim! Fire!" The last shot was done, all six drinking as one as the shotglasses ended up by their brothers, broken and gone. There wasn't a dry eye on any of them, the liquor so potent and so vile that it brought tears to the survivors, meant for the dead. _In memoriam_. Some of the Marines were swaying in place, and Sara was trying to hold one up, struggling herself. Of the three remaining shot, they were left on the bar. They would be served soon.

"Barkeep!" Shepard called, continuing. Sara had Chirped her personally to be the Master of Ceremonies, being the Commanding Officer of the response unit who received the distress signal of the attack on the Dig Site. Jane had been more than happy to participate. "Thirty-two bottles of beer on the wall!"

" _Thirty-two bottles of beer!"_ Human voices cried out in the ArcBar, following the tradition. Thirty-two bottles of beer for thirty-two lost lives. The barkeeper laid out thirty-two random bottles of beer, beer made throughout the Systems Alliance, for the many homes that Humans lived in, for the homes that Marines defended.

"Who will commemorate?" Petty Officer Sara Ryder called out, her voice thick and slightly slurred, but it was more than loud enough for all to hear. "Who will honor these Marines?"

"Captain Jane Catherine Shepard!" Jane called out as she approached the bar and grabbed the first bottle, a green-bottled Heineken. She pulled the top off with her hand and chugged the beer in one go, opening her throat and draining it in four seconds. When she was finished, she threw the bottle on the floor, smashing it amongst the debris of the shotglasses, adding it to the pile. The bottle's top went into the empty bottle of Degresser, the opened top of the vile liquor more than big enough as the metal cap tinkled into the bottle. She then ripped off the nametag of her uniform, and placed it on the bar. Her hands went to her new rank, set upon her uniform's shoulderboards, and ripped it off before placing it onto the nametag and hammering her rank onto her name with her fist. Jane then ripped off her N7's badge, and hammered it just to the left of her rank. She then pulled out of her pocket a new addition; the badge of the Office of Special Tactics. That got hammered just to the right of her rank. "Commanding Officer of the SSV _Normandy_ , N7, Council Agent! The Lion of Elysium, and First Human SPECTRE!" The nametag, along with its additions, were added to the bottle to applause from those in the ArcBar.

"Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko!" The Biotic Lieutenant moved to the bar as Jane stepped away, seeing Sara and her Marines standing there, watching. They may have been swaying, they may have been grieving, but not one of them sat down or fell over, holding each other up. _Semper Fidelus_ to the very end. The Lieutenant grabbed a bottle of Labat Blue, draining it like a pro, and smashing it on the ground. "Battle Duty Officer and Explosive Ordinance Disposal Officer of the SSV _Normandy_!" Alenko ripped off his nametag and placed it on the bar before ripping off his rank and hammering it on. The nametag and bottlecap went into the bottle to the sound of applause.

"Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams!" The Colonial Marine stood up, taking a bottle of Budweiser, chugging it and breaking it on the floor. "Weapons Officer of the SSV _Normandy_! The Lone Wolf of Eden Prime!" That had been a new addition thanks to the news, the nickname circulating through the social media sphere. Ash had fought and survived the Geth, surviving a massacre and fighting for an hour single-handedly before being rescued by Shepard and Alenko. Her bottle cap, nametag and rank were added, and there were a few whistles amongst the applause.

The bar went silent with the next commemorator.

"Detective Garrus Kaaldon Vakarian of Palaven!" The Turian approached the bar, and true to the service, selected a bottle of Guinness Draught and drank the levo-chiliary beer before breaking it on the ground, coughing and gagging for a moment. He was going to be sick later, and everyone knew it, but that hadn't stopped him. "Detective, Special Crimes Unit, Citadel Security Services. Sniper, Rapid Response Unit, Citadel Security Services. Currently of the SSV _Normandy_!" The Turian surprised everyone by plucking his C-SEC Detective's badge off and somehow managing to shove it into the opened top of the Degresser after adding the Guinness's cap. No one had expected that, but it had been awarded with cheers and applause.

"Tali of Clan Zorah, born of the _Reyya_ of the Migrant Fleet!" The Quarian Engineer came next as she grabbed a bottle of Red Stripe, and pulled out from her EnviroSuit (of all things) a straw. Much to everyone's amusement, the Quarian heroically sucked the beer from the bottle as fast as she could through the plastic device until it made the typical sucking noise when a liquid was finished. She hiccuped through her vox before breaking the bottle on the ground. "Engineering Sub-Officer of the MFV _Reyya_ , Engineering Sub-Officer of the SSV _Normandy_!" She put into the bottle of Degresser a small piece of fabric. Jane knew it to be a portion of the Quarians' cherished _reilk_ , a part of it having been torn off during the operation on Therum. The garment had been made by her now-deceased mother, and instead of sewing it back on, added it to the bottle. Jannie was touched by the sentiment.

"Niki of Clan Raan, adopted of the _Tombay_ of the Migrant Fleet!" The Marine Pilgrim went after her cousin as she hoisted up a bottle of Miller Genuine Draft, sharing the same straw that Tali had used. "Migrant Fleet Marine Prospect of the MFV _Tombay_ , Ground Team Member of the SSV _Normandy!"_ She was still trying to shake off the alcohol as she spoke, adding the bottlecap into the Degresser before putting something else inside; an ammo block for a pistol.

"Wrex of Clan Urdnot of Tuchanka," the old Krogan was next, surprising Shepard that he was joining in, "son of Jarod, son of Krull, last Krogan Councilor!" _Holy shit!_ Everyone went quiet as hell with that. Jannie had no idea. The big game hunter ended up grabbing the largest bottle, a bottle of Old English 800 Malt Liquor, and drank it in one fell swoop. He then crushed the bottle with his own hand, and purposefully added his blood to the pile of broken glass on the floor. "Big game hunter. Heavy Weapons, SSV _Normandy_." To the bottle of Degresser, he added a small anti-personnel grenade, the arming device deactivated, along with the bottle cap. There were a few alarmed faces, but many had nodded their heads in acceptance.

"Mannovai Janoir Ye'ili Tavac Zevin Raeka, of Mannovai!" The female Salarian stood up from her seat as her lanky form moved with a surprising grace in what Jannie considered to be either casual or formal civilian robes of subdued colors instead of her Armax Arsenal L-Series Light Combat Armor. "Special Reconnaissance Agent, Special Tasks Group… unit withheld." That had a few chuckles as the not-Dalatrass selected a Terminator Stout as she drank the dark beer, adding it to the pile of broken glass by throwing the empty bottle. She placed the bottle cap in the bottle of Degresser and added her own specialization badge into the bottle.

"Doctor Liara T'Soni, of Serrice, Thessia." The young Asari Protheantologist stood up now that the immediate ground team was done. The Thessia took a bottle of Chango and drank it, making a face when she was done as she threw the bottle on the ground, obvious to everyone that it was possibly the first time in her life ever breaking glass. "Xenopaeleosociologist, University of Serrice, Expeditionary Member of Dig Site Alpha of Therum. Because of these brave souls, I am alive today." Liara ripped the University of Serrice patch from her Expeditionary jumpsuit, gave it a kiss, and stuffed it down the bottle of Degresser.

"Professor Irissa T'vara, of Itoma, Rannoch." The Asari Matriarch was next, and the announcement of her homeworld had everyone shocked; no one under the age of three hundred had ever met a native-born Rannochian. Jane noticed that Tali'Zorah had turned sharply to look at the Protheantologist at the name of the homeworld she had only dreamed of. The Professor selected a bottle of Samuel Adams Boston Lager, and drank it like a pro. The bottle crashed against the ground as the Asari smashed it with the rest. "Dean of Prothean Research and Studies, Xenopaeleotechnologist, University of Serrice, Lead Expeditionary Member of Dig Site Alpha of Therum. Because of these brave souls, every member of my team, my responsibility, was evacuated safely, and are alive today." Irissa ripped off not only her UniSerrice patch, but also the pin marking her the Lead, hammering it into the patch before including it and the bottle cap into the bottle.

"Abadexus Linaseus, of Vallum, Taetrus." The gray-plated Turian with while colonial markings displaying the Taetrus Colony upon his gray facial carapace, standing tall and proud as he went to the bar wearing a freshly clean-and-pressed Citizen's robe. Much as Detective Vakarian had, the former _Centurion_ grabbed a random bottle of beer and clipped the cap off with a talon, drinking the Coors as fast as possible before hurling the glass receptacle to the floor. "Citizen Reservist, tenth-tier and former Active Duty _Hastist_ Infantry of the 54th Infantry Corps (Taetrus)." The bottlecap went into the Degresser along with what appeared to be a small printed Book of Valluvius that Jannie understood that the Hierarchy gave to every Soldier to outline the devotion of duty to species.

The service continued as men and women joined in the commemoration. The Captain of Betelgeuse Company, one Captain Kal Sun, drank a Corona before adding his nametag and rank. The Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Patricia Fallows, came next as she plucked a Blue Moon from the bar before adding her nametag and rank. Following her was the Regiment Commander, Brigadier General Yasmine Khan, drinking a Swedish Mead. Then there were former members of 1B3/7, five in all who had served the platoon in the past. One civilian happened to be the sister of Private Mikael Holodansk, one of the Marines who had died, a MOD Member working on the Arc. She took a Yingling Black and Tan and inserted a childhood still of her and her brother, a personal memento. There were half a dozen Marines who had come for their own reasons, honoring brothers and sisters. A couple of Sailors came to the bar as well, honoring the sacrifice. There was one more bottle, a Nichevo Russian Ale, and the tradition stated that it was reserved the the highest-ranking individual that attended the service.

"Rear Admiral Lower Half Steven Bishop Hackett." The sight of the old war hero and Commanding Officer of Fifth Fleet had everyone standing as the scarred visage of the man presented itself at the bar, the Shanxi veteran taking the Russian beer and popping the top by placing it against the bar and popping it open by smacking it with his palm. He swilled the beer before breaking it on the floor, the mess of glass now littering a good chunk of the ArcBar's deck. "Commanding Officer, SSV _Orizba_ , Fifth Fleet. Callsign: Lance." That had been his callsign as a fighter pilot over the skies of Shanxi during the First Contact War, as famous as the man himself. The Admiral ripped off his nametag, and took his two stars, hammering it through the nametag before he added another piece to it; his Star of Terra, the ribbon wrapped around the nametag before they went into the bottle. Admiral Hackett took the remaining three unfinished shots of Degresser and pured the liquid contents into the bottle before breaking the shotglasses onto the bar floor. The barkeeper gave the cork to the Admiral, who inserted it back into the bottle of Degresser, sealing it. A candle was lit, and wax was dripped onto the bottle's entrance, sealing the bottle and cork together, tamperproofing it. The Admiral finished it by taking an old-fashioned Sharpie pen and writing thirty-two names upon the blank label, the names of the men the bottle represented. Once the act was done, Admiral Hackett turned from the bar to look upon the crowd, the bottle in his hand. "Who will send these Marines home?"

" _Here am I!"_ Came the response from the remaining members of Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, five Marines and one Navy Corpsman volunteering, as was tradition. The sealed bottle was handed to the highest-ranking member, Petty Officer Sara Ryder, who led her Marines to one portion of the hull that had in it a small jettison port. Everyone stood and watched as Sara opened the port and placed the bottle inside before sealing the port, not activating the depressurization sequence. Next to the port was an old-fashion lever meant to open the outer port into space, and above the lever were the stenciled words 'To Earth'. Six hands went onto the lever, the Marines and Sailor holding onto the lever as they held onto one another, crowding closely for the finale.

"May you be in heaven an hour…" Sara spoke out loud.

" _Before the Devil knows you're dead!"_ The Marines shouted in response.

"May you shake Saint Peter's hand…"

" _While the Devil shakes his head!"_

"May you enjoy your eternal reward…"

" _Forever in Kingdom Hall!"_

"One day I will see you again…"

" _AT THE LORD'S LAST MUSTER CALL!"_

The lever was pulled.

The bottle of Degresser with all of its additions was shot out into space, the air pressure of the small jettison port launching it at subsonic speeds, sending it towards the Sol System. Every member of the military stood saluting as the bottle was sent, a small port window showing the glass container flying away.

Sending the Marines home.

* * *

Commander Jane Shepard sat at a table in the ArcBar, nursing a rum-and-coke as Petty Officer Sara Ryder sat at the same table with her, the other two seats at the synthetic wood platform purposefully empty. Thankfully, notoriety could sometimes be useful when one saw the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria drinking together and realized that it was a private occasion. The remaining Marines of Red Platoon were at various other tables with attendees of the service, not one of them having to pay for a drink. They were veterans now, veterans of the Geth War, where so many had already died. Jane had already put forth the paperwork to transfer the five Marines and the Corpsman to the SSV _Normandy_ , knowing that her mission would be facing the unexpected, and she needed boots-on-ground. They would work well as a secondary team, providing flanking coverage and flexibility on missions while her team of specialists actioned in on whatever objective was currently the mission. She already planned on having Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams as their Platoon Sergeant, using Williams' experience as a Colonial Soldier, an NCO, and as a veteran of Eden Prime herself to help shape and mold the Marines into an even more effective force. They were young, but Jannie didn't have a lot of options. The amount of available Geth War veterans were all a part of her ship now; there was no one else to be had. Even those young Marines knew more than N's who had never faced a Geth and their adaptability.

"How did you deal with it? You know?" Sara pointed to Jane's left arm, her words slurred as the Petty Officer drank shots of Bacardi's, already at four. She was going to end up on the ArcBar floor pretty soon by the way she was tottering in her chair. Shepard knew what her friend was referencing; there were seven names tattooed on her left forearm, the names of the teachers who had joined her side to defend Illyeria High from Batarians and their hired thugs. They had died protecting their students, but it was only Shepard that was remembered. Jannie had gotten their names tattooed on her left forearm not only to remember them, but also to remind her the cost of her heroism. Most didn't realize that behind every heroic act, there was a toll. Sara had never asked that question before, obviously understanding that it was personal. But now? Now she understood.

"The tattoos helped, but that was just a personal thing for me." Jannie replied, looking at Sara's blue eyes, seeing them staring at her blearingly, the Corpsman well beyond tipsy, now. "But honestly? I realized that every action, every incident, and every battle will have a death toll. Every single fucking one of them." She could tell that the Corpsman didn't like that answer at all, her profession being one meant to save lives, not to mention the woman herself having that kind of soul in her. "There hasn't been one N Candidate who went to the Villa who hasn't lost a friend or a comrade. It's actually an unspoken requirement, you know? We don't need an elite combatant who doesn't know that bitter taste." It was a sad necessity, unfortunately. One did not go into Special Forces without having some combat experience, without having lost a member of their unit in battle, or without a Purple Heart. Yeah, it kept their numbers down sadly, but it made for more experienced combatants who had seen the true rigors of combat and the cost of such endeavors.

"It's bullshit." Sara replied, her words coming out somewhat slurred and mumbled. "I… I could have saved _some_ of them."

"Sara? You likely would have died right next to them." Jane told her friend, the young woman looking from her empty shotglass to her. "And then the rest of your Marines wouldn't have had your guidance, your experience, or your leadership. They likely would have died in the Dig Site, and then some of the civilians would have to. Possibly many of them." Shepard was relentless, believing every word she was saying to Sara. "That Krogan would have captured Doctor T'Soni, probably killed Professor T'vara in the process. Is that the scenario you'd prefer?"

"No, Auntie." Ryder replied glumly, her head drooping down. "It just… it just hurts so _fucking_ much." Jane knew why. Field Medical Training Battalion spent eight weeks straight hammering into Fleet Marine Corpsmen Cadets _these are your Marines; you will live with them, you will work with them, you will eat with them, you will fight with them, and you will die for them, as they will die for you_. FMF Corpsmen saw protecting Marines as more than just duty; they strove for the honor. To have let a Marine die was a wound in Sara's soul, feeling as if she had forgone that duty and honor. Having thirty-two? That much worse.

"Sara? You did right, and you did _well_." Shepard reiterated, doing her best to cut through the grief and the alcohol, looking into her friend's eyes. "Six Marines needed you, six with no experience and little training, only having been in the Marines for a year or less. Those men needed you." Sara looked at her, frowning. "Gunny Halverson put those men in that ruin because it was a means to make them effective without them doing something silly or stupid like baby Marines will. He kept the experienced men out front, keeping them effective, and then he put a person in charge of those men, someone _he_ trusted. And you proved that trust better than he could have hoped for. You kept them alive, and the seven of you killed close a _thousand_ Geth. _You… saved… lives_. My own included." Ryder slowly nodded at that, her hand going onto Jannie's, gripping it tightly.

"Love you, Auntie." Sara smiled, looking a little bit better. "Still hurts… but… you're right." She looked to the table, and found that her shotglass was still empty. "Refill?" The young woman looked so hopeful that the Captain couldn't help but laugh.

"One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, _floor_." The N7 smiled at the young woman she had known since she was nine, on the very day Sara Elaine Ryder was born. "I'll get you a shot and a spatula to scrape you off the ground."

"That's what family is for." Sara smiled drunkenly as she picked up the shotglass and shook it emphatically. "You can laugh at me tomorrow while I suffer in return."

"That's what family is for." The redhead laughed as she raised her hand up to get a waitress's attention.

* * *

Author's Note: This is the first time I've really fleshed out Scott Ryder. He played in a team called the Presidium Toshe (pronounced 'Toss-shee) and would be the equivalent of a point guard in basketball terms, or a forward in soccer/football. Ash being a fan of a Human trouncing aliens in an alien game would certainly appeal to her.

I've mention a couple of times about 'a movie' concerning the Lion and the Angel. Yes, there is a movie detailing the Assault of Elysium, featuring the Lion, and the Angel as a supporting character. The movie's name is _The Fires Of Heaven_ , and you will learn more of it later.

Red Alert Status - There's always a unit in a post or base that is under 'Red Alert', in which they are expected to be ready in a quick amount of time in case of emergencies. Mostly involves flight units to scramble jets, there are ground forces that do this as well (come to think of it… I don't think I've ever actually been put on this despite being Combat Arms). Remember this one kiddies; you'll be seeing it later during the Battle of the Cit.

I gave Garrus a nickname after his favorite one-liner; scoped and dropped. Oh, he's former Blackwatch, too. You'll learn more of his past later on.

The Bravest Generation - the First Contact War's 'Greatest Generation'. Roster Includes Admiral Jon Grissom, Admiral Kastanie Drescher, Captain Alec Ryder, Admiral Hannah Singer, Lieutenant John Shepard, Captain David Anderson, Admiral Tadius Ahern, Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Valentino, Master Chief Petty Officer Royce Mason, Admiral Steven Hackett, John Martin Harper, General Theodore Williams, Gunnery Sergeant Jill 'the Amazon' Dah, and former Corporal Zaeed Massani. Several of these individuals make up for Jannie and Sara's eclectic and crazy 'family'. A couple of them are OC's (Val and Mason), while a couple only existed in paper media (General Williams and Gunnery Chief Dah, seen in Revelations).

Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Steven 'Lance' Hackett - A First Contact War Vet, Ensign Hackett (Callsign: Lance) was a SOAR Pilot (Special Operations Aviation Regiment) who delivered N's and SpecOps to high-value targets and quick-reaction force requests on Shanxi. His crew consisted of his co-pilot, Ensign Hannah Shepard (Callsign: Zephyr), and two crew chiefs, Petty Officer (Third Class) Stacy Michelle Valentino and Able Seaman Royce Abraham Mason. Their ground crew consisted of 1st Lieutenant Alec Ryder, Ensign David Anderson, Lieutenant John Shepard, Corporal Tadius Ahern, Sergeant Jill Dah, and Corporal Zaeed Massani, along with others.

160th SOAR (Airborne) - A real-life US Army Special Operations Aviation Unit, they were created after the disaster of Operation Eagle Claw/Desert One (the failed attempt to rescue American hostages from Iran during the Iranian Revolution in '79). There were no ready-combat rotary wing aviation units at the time, and the 160 SOAR represents the same elite dedication that one will find amongst the Berets and SEALs. In fact, they're the ones usually flying them in.

Night Stalkers - 4/160 SOAR - Again, a real life US Army Special Operations Aviation Unit, unit name 'Night Stalkers'. Stationed in Washington.

Amanda Ahern - I actually am borrowing this from LogicalPremise's "And Then There Were None", though how Amanda dies in his story is actually explained, while mine is generalized.

I made a Gillian's Island reference, the long-standing joke of the Professor who could craft anything out of anything… save how to repair a three foot hole in a ship with two sailors.

Technically, no one has died in space (at least that anyone has admitted to). America has lost seventeen Astronauts in total; three from Apollo 1 (training exercise accident on the ground), seven from the Challenger (launch, O-ring failure), and the Atlantis (re-entry, integrity failure). Every Astronaut has sadly died on fire. The former Soviet Union had never admitted to its losses, though there is circumstantial evidence and tales that they indeed have lost dozens. Because of this, no one had knowingly been 'buried' in space, though some (like Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek) has had his remains launched into space. Makes one wonder… did NASA have a plan in case an Astronaut did pass away from something during mission?

I created a space funeral with a variety of traditions. The Twenty-One Gun Salute would be impractical on a space station (no one wants holes in the hull), so I changed it to Twenty-One Shots. The hammering of ranks and badges is actually a US Navy Seal tradition, though the devices are hammered onto a casket. Many toss mementos into caskets, personal items added _in memoriam_. The drinking portion is an Irish Wake, where a beer is drank (usually from a mug) and smashed upon the ground. The various beers I picked from various portions around Earth because the Systems Alliance would be multinational. I, unfortunately, could only come up with some imports for non-American beers, though I tried. Nichevo is not a Russian beer, but a Russian saying; _it can't be helped_ is the general translation. The launch is more based upon the old Viking funerals, in which a body was sent on a boat onto the sea, usually set on fire for cremation. The spoken epitaph was one of my own creation, used several years back.

Johann Carl Fredrick Gauss (pronounced 'Gouse', like 'house') - a sheer mathematical genius whose works and influences are still practical and in use today, nearly two hundred years after his death. His work on numbers theory helped reprove some mathematica that hadn't been redone since the Ancient Greeks, and actually influenced architecture and construction with the use of a compass and a straightedge (technically, we still use this with a protractor nowadays). Like many of the mathematical greats, he was a mathematician who invented, solved equations, tacked problems, plotted asteroids pre-Calculus, and brokered new fields of thought. Today, magnetic fields are measured in 'Gauss' (which is a Centimeter Gram Second… and I have no idea what that means) for international units, and is 1/10,000 of a Tesla (again… I have no idea what I'm saying unless you're using magnetic fields for conduction of electricity or objects). A refrigerator magnet is about 50 gauss.

In Sci-Fi, you'll see many names come up; Maxwell, Gauss, Faraday, Tesla, and Edison, as they were all pioneers of electromagnetic/electrodynamic theory and applications. Seriously, Edison invented the Electric Chair. I can only imagine the first test run on that sucker and the poor bastard that rode the lightning. They probably didn't know to use a sponge, wet it, or drape a cloth over the face. Barbecued murderer is my first guess. Barbecued murderer with burst eyes and on fire is my second.

Okay, so I looked it up!

George Westinghouse (AC Titan in America) was responsible for the generators, while Dr. George Fell (a physician) tested the theory on dogs (btw, this guy was in fact with the ASPCA!) after dock workers would play with electrical wire and die without wounds. Edison didn't make the Electric Chair, but sat on the board and helped with the 'more' humane ways of killing convicts than hanging. William Krimmler was the first to enjoy that little test, a man who murdered his wife with a hatchet. They knocked him unconscious the first go, and burned him the second time. It took eight minutes to kill the guy. George Westinghouse later quoted to saying 'it would have been more humane to use an axe'. Whoops.


	13. End Of Watch, III

_This Form Does Not Matter; I Know This Hurts You, Reader._

 **Room 143, Lower Hub Hotel, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 18, 2183**

Professor Irissa T'vara awoke to the sound of a trilling Human-oriented alarm beeping beside her somewhere as the seven-hundred and forty-three year old Matriarch turned slightly and deactivated the alarms' incessant beeping. A pained groan beside her reminded Irissa that she was not alone in either the Human-oriented bedroom or Human-oriented bed as she turned back to look upon the sight of a brunette Human Maiden, laying under the comforting warming blankets and within the self-warming field of the bed, looking a little worse for wear. A bleary blue eye opened as the Humans' head turned to look at Irissa, a slow if pained smile cracked across her rose-colored lips, her face slightly pale… and tinged a bit green?

"Feel terrible." Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder spoke softly, her voice cracking slightly as she winced. "My first major hangover. Hooray."

"I believe that your Aunt gave me some sort of medication that would help you with the condition. She called it a… 'Morning After' pill?" That had Sara groaning.

"I sincerely hope she gave you the 'morning after drinking' hangover pill, and not… the other one." Sara grumped, perplexing the Professor slightly. Well, what else would someone need for a morning after? Still, the Asarikin found the aforementioned medication on the bedside table and handed it over to her Human lover, watching as the Maiden swallowed it. "Ugh. What time is it, anyways?"

"It is 0645 Arcturus Station Time, fair one." Irissa slipped an easy hand over the plain of Sara's abdomen, feeling the muscles that bulged out slightly, six river stone-like protrusions that sat side-by-side in a line, dimpled by her navel in between the two lower sets. Asari were not muscled that way, and she found that she rather liked running her hands over what Sara called 'her six-pack'. One of her blue fingers were currently drawing laps around the hardened muscles of Sara's six-pack, getting a little smile out of the Human Maiden. "Your Aunt mentioned that you did not have to arrive on-ship until 1200 hours. I believe you are not to be the only Human suffering your Morning After. I believe one of your Marines challenged Urdnot Wrex into a drinking contest. The one you call Ball Sack?" The Professor was not a hundred percent certain what that entailed, but as she understood it, the Marines' _other_ nicknames were generally sexually harassing in nature. And they liked it that way. That had Sara snort a little as she laid upon her back, adjusting slightly into a more comfortable position, resting her head upon hands behind her long, silky crest.

"Idiot."

"Indeed." Trying to getting into a drinking contest with a Krogan was generally considered an inept idea. She had done so herself back when she was a Sister Hospitaller after earning her Grace of Athame, feeling as if she were indestructible. That particular night had proved her quite incorrect. Irissa's finger continued to trace Sara's muscled abdomen as the Maiden looked to her, looking a little better.

"I… do want to talk to you about something." Sara's tone was not of the normal conversation, meaning that it was something that was on her mind, something important. "I know that likely, when we reach Council Space or perhaps even beforehand, you will need to return to your duties as Dean of your department." T'vara stopped tracing the shape of Sara's abdomen, looking into Sara's blue eyes. She was beginning to understand Sara's reluctance towards this conversation, but it did need to happen. "I've… really enjoyed our time together on Therum, and…

"…and I really don't want it to stop."

Ah.

"Sara," Irissa took Sara's hands into one of her own, giving her a gentle smile, "do you know why I stayed behind on Therum? Truly?"

"I… I guess I do." The Human Maiden frowned slightly, her lower lip pouting out in that adorable way that Irissa found so fascinating and… cute. "You did it for me."

"I did, fair one." The Dean replied, nodding her head as she readjusted herself so that she could talk to her lover properly, propping her head up with her left arm while holding one of Sara's hands with her other. "It has been a long time since I have felt this way for someone, Sara. I know there have been those of my profession and those I call dear and friend to me that wished for me to move on, but I never met anyone that made me want to try." The Asarikin felt herself a little lost in thought, thinking of Janus Tiberix, the proud Turian male that had somehow found the way into her heart all those years ago. It had been over three hundred years since he passed away of old age, and Irissa did not find anyone since that made her feel as he had. Correction, she never felt the need to look, honestly.

Until Sara.

Irissa did not know when it happened, or even really how. But when that first Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm went off, the Professor had felt nothing but fear and dread lancing through her heart at the thought of an attack. What was worse was that, in her mind's eye, all she could see was her fair one dead upon the ground, dying to defend the innocent, but still dead. That emotional response had surprised her, to be sure, and a large part of her enjoyed that she felt something so deep and personal about someone once more. She had not wanted Sara in danger, yet that part of it was who Sara was; a defender, a profession chosen by herself and worked up with years and dedication. That first alarm had showed Irissa what she had yet to see within herself.

That second alarm had told her she had a choice in making the most of it.

When the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm rang for less than three seconds before being cut-off, the Professor knew. Both Sara and herself had talked about the possibility, had worked upon faster methods to account and evacuate both Team Serrice and Oxford together if the worst should happen. When the alarm had been cut-off, silenced mid-ring, the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies knew that to best help Sara was to do her duty correctly; to collect and evacuate the members of both her team and the Oxford Team to the shuttles. It had taken only ten minutes to gather everyone and to reach the extraction point with little fuss, the earlier alarm and the seriousness noticeable to everyone, making her job easier. Yet when they reached the shuttles, sequestering everyone inside, Irissa thought of Sara, and her heart _quaked_.

 _Houxin, I will not let you have this one!_

There had been too many sapients to load into the shuttles, the inclusion of the members of the Citadel Department of Prothean Knowledge giving her the excuse to give up her seat. Irissa had every intent on going back to where her fair one had pinpointed a good choke point to hold off Geth forces, to maximize the Marine's firepower and limit Geth numbers. The addition of _Centurion_ Abadexus Linaseus had been a welcoming one, especially when two other _Hasti_ Reservists had too included themselves. Doctor Liara T'soni had volunteered as well, having figured out how to operate a portion of the Dig Site's Prothean security system to further stymie Geth intrusion. The five of them had included themselves into the desperate defense, forgoing evacuation for reinforcement.

"So you want this to continue? To be with me?" Sara asked, her tone hopeful, her blue eyes growing a little brighter.

"Yes, fair one. I do." The Professor smiled as she cupped the Maiden's face and brought her cerulean lips to Sara's own rosy ones, giving a deep kiss, feeling the Humans' lips part to let the Asarikin's tongue slip inside. That was an act quite different from those Irissa had been with before, 'Frenching' evidently being a Human invention. It really was quite pleasant, and Sara's tongue was both smooth and sweet. The kiss ended a moment later, but the look upon the Maiden's face said it all.

"I won't lie, I'm not sure what the future is going to hold." Ryder said to the Professor, her thoughts obviously on the Geth War. Irissa did not doubt that Sara's 'Auntie', newly-promoted Captain Jane Shepard, would request the Corpsman's presence upon the SSV _Normandy_ , possibly being one of the best-qualified sapients she would likely find for the Council Agent's eclectic crew. Even T'vara admitted to herself that she would not have been able to hold a candle to Sara in terms of medical diversity. She had only trained as an Asari Health Care Provider, along with the most basic of knowledge for Salarians and Turians, mostly knowing how to check for vitals. Irissa knew that Sara had been trained by an Emergency Care Technician in the Citadel Emergency Medical Service to provide medical assistance for most every species on the Citadel. Now she was likely going to serve on warship that was host to a Council Agent and several species. "When we ship out, I'm not even sure when we might see each other again." That admission came with a look of worry and fear.

"My dear, do not fret." Irissa slipped her arm around Sara's bared lower torso, looking to the Maiden. "I know that I will be on the Citadel for some time, which is where most of my time is spent performing duties for my Department. It is, after all, much easier to collaborate and cooperate with others of my profession on the Cit than it would be to expect Protheantologists to come to the University of Serrice. Even with what research we were able to glean upon Therum will be shared and investigated upon the Citadel, submitted to the Citadel Department of Prothean Knowledge for distribution. As your Commanding Officer is a SPECTRE on a high-value mission for the Council, I image that you will be returning to the Widow System on more than a few occasions. When you do, Chirp me and I would be more than happy to have you over at my domicile while you are there."

"I… wow." Sara's eyes went a little wide at that, and her cheeks grew more rosy in hue, indicating that she was blushing. Obviously, there was something in Human culture that Irissa touched upon that she was not aware of. "Oh! I… um, should probably explain, since you look a little confused right now!"

"I assume that I may have stumbled upon some Human etiquette that I am not aware of?

"Well, yes and no." Sara looked a little uncomfortable at first. "For a Human relationship, you've… kind of opened your house to me. That generally entails a deeper level of relationship that merely seeing one another or dating. It means… I guess the best way to put it is to say that you're comfortable enough to let me into your private space and private life. I don't know the Asari equivalent to compare it to."

"I see." The Professor actually understood what Sara was implying. For an Asari to have someone over for a short period of time, lover or not, was merely a social grace of either convenience or agreement. But as Irissa understood it, Humans saw it much in the same light as, say… asking one to bondmeld. Perhaps not as intimate, but close to it. In Sara's mind, Irissa was _inviting_ the Human Maiden into her personal spaces much like an Asari would feel when involving the deeper, more intimate melds. "While such a thing is not seen in the same light, I now understand what it means to you. My offer still stands, fair one; I would be more than happy to have you over." The Asarikin brushed one of Sara's cheeks with the tip of a finger, getting the Corpsman to shiver slightly. "Amongst my kind, we have melds that are of the same equivalency, a deeper sort of melding that involves more than just surface cerebral emotions and pleasantries. What we normally do would be compared to your… dating." The term was cute in a rustic sort of way. "I have… thought about it myself."

"Is that the melding in which thoughts and memories can be shared?" Sara asked, naturally curious.

"That is the mere wording of it, but the reality of it is more intense." Irissa replied, knowing that it would be difficult to explain to one who had never done it before, Asarikin or not. "If one wishes to bondmeld, it is… a joining between two sapients, a union of mind and soul. Say… I believe that a good explanation that would make sense to you would be like what yourself and your twin brother share, yet with someone that you find appealing into sharing your life with. As you said so yourself, a deeper level of relationship that involves a beings' private space and life, in many more ways than a domicile, though I understand why that is important to you; physical trust. This is why the loss of a bondmate is so devastating to an Asari; if feels that you are losing not just one that you shared so much with, but a part of ones' self as well." It was rare that Irissa did not feel the loss of Janus Tiberix for at least a small portion of a day.

"There isn't really a great Human equivalent to that save for the loss of a family member, like a parent or sibling." Sara said thoughtfully, nodding. "I know if I lost Scottie, I would be absolutely devastated. I often feel the same way when I think of him, so I understand that portion of it. I would think…" She went quiet for a moment, frowning. "I've seen Asari 'date' other species, and even bonded pairs. If it's so traumatic, why would an Asari bond so intimately with someone who would live such a shorter period of time? Why not remain within your own species?" Irissa understood that Sara was being curious, to better understand, not necessarily mean to cause grief. She had hit upon a question that was sometimes the very nature of current Asari philosophy.

"Why not you, may I ask?" T'vara smiled as Sara blushed a little at the question, realizing that she had obviously walked into that one. "For the very same reasons, I imagine. I do not know why most Humans are attracted to my kind besides the obviousness of physical attraction initially. For yourself, it was not about physical beauty at first, this I know. Despite the misgivings and obstacles that you faced, you continued your relationship with me. Why?"

"Because I think you're worth it." Sara replied softly, looking into Irissa's cyan eyes.

"Is there truthfully a better answer to your question as well, then?" The Professor, poised, making the Maiden nod in understanding. "I bonded with Janus Tiberix because I loved him. It still hurt to this day when I think of him, but I believe it to be worth it; I shared my life and myself with someone I found worthy of it."

"That makes total sense." Sara smiled once more, her arms slipping around Irissa and pulling her in gently. "Thank you for sharing with me, dear. I know those weren't easy questions, so I appreciate your candor with me." Sara leaned forward to kiss her, and Irissa gently pushed a little of her Biotic energy into the act. One kiss led to another, and the Human Maiden was smiling at her. "Well, the anti-hangover pills are doing their magic. Don't feel like crap anymore." Sara's cute eyebrows went up twice with heavy implication. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I am." The Professor smiled as she slid herself on top of Sara, inserting herself in between the Human's silky smooth thighs as she felt Sara slipping her feet behind her. "I would like… to go a little deeper with you, Sara. Something a little more intimate, if you are willing."

"I would like that." The Corpsman answered a little breathlessly, her blue eyes glistening a little at the thought. "Just tell me what I need to do, Irissa."

"Clear your mind of thoughts, and feel out with your emotions." Irissa began, her voice but a whisper. "I want you to focus upon your feelings to me, and imagine that they are tangible. Push them towards me as if they are a physical gift, an offering for one that you care for." The Asarikin was doing the same thing that she was informing the Human Maiden to do, pushing out with her mind to connect with Sara's. Her bioelectrical field expanded to match with Sara's, Irissa knowing that her eyes having grown darker with the process as she felt the tendrils of connection meeting, slowly integrating with her physiology. The Human gasped with surprise as her pupils expanded larger and larger, her own blue irises almost disappearing as Irissa felt the first stage of a true mental connection, what was known as a Joining Meld. Sara looked at her with almost completely pupiled eyes, her face one of rapture and adoration as she slipped a hand behind Irissa's head holding her close.

"Oh my God…" Sara gasped as her body gyrated under her own, clenching onto the Professor tightly. "Is this… a _Joining_?"

"Yes, dear one, it is." Irissa smiled as the Human looked at her with black-filled eyes.

"It's… _incredible_!" The tone said it all to the Asarikin, the amazement in the Petty Officers' voice, the look of complete joy upon her face as she looked upon Irissa. "I've heard that this level of melding was suppose to be intense and intimate, but words didn't do it justice! It's like… I can feel what _you_ feel."

"Yes." Irissa smiled, feeling Sara's own emotional response; the wonder, the joy, the tentative exploration of this new experience. But behind those? The thirst for knowledge, the willingness to create, the iron will of determination, and… a rosy glow of affection for those dear to her, each one a slightly different shade for those who mattered. The one that was closest to the surface at the moment was her own, a pulsing glow of affection… and love. Sara loved her, not mere words or endearments. The emotional connection that they shared showed Irissa Sara's building affection towards her, the weight of that commitment. It was apparent to T'vara that the times that they had spent, the conversations that they had, the actions they were involved in. Each episode had undoubtedly added to that feeling within Sara. "You… love me." Irissa was learning what that term meant for a Human Being, what it meant to _Sara_. She was not one to merely attach the word or the emotion frivolously.

"I didn't know how to say it or when to say it." Sara admitted, a brief touch of embarrassment and nervousness. Irissa understood; the Maiden did not want to extend her heart only to find that she had chosen wrong. In many ways, they had much to learn about each other, their cultures, and their own personal feelings. "I… I am falling in love with you, Irissa. Not a childish fascination or some physical fling. I… want to go to the next step with you." Her cheeks went rosy, blushing as Sara felt nervous, feeling the risk of taking a chance with _her_.

The Professor knew of Sara's previous two relationships, both of them having not worked out due to circumstances that were not Sara's fault. The young woman had grown up on the Cit, and really had little interaction with her species, and what interaction she did have with those outside her family had not been very positive. As Irissa understood it, Sara had tried dating a Turian living on the Cit, but that relationship had failed spectacularly due to the male's family being racist towards the young Maiden's species. The other Turian Sara had dated had unfortunately been a fool who had used the relationship just to hurt a Human personally, dragging Sara through some rather emotional turmoil in a fairly abusive relationship where the Turian had faked an act to lure Sara in. That had affected Sara in more ways than one emotionally, and Irissa learned during their time on Therum why Sara seemed to be so cautious and nervous.

So when Sara said she was ready to take the next step, Irissa could feel that old nervousness, that old pain, coming back. It was a bold, brave step on her part.

"I would like that too, dear one." The Professor replied, making sure Sara could feel what _she_ felt, so that the Human Maiden would know what she meant to the Asari. She slipped into Ryder's embrace, laying upon the Human as they Joined together, enjoying the act in more ways than just physical.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stood in the Cargo Bay with the entirety of the crew of the SSV _Normandy_. She had excused the Watches to join in as she looked upon the full complement of the men and women that would serve her. She was going to address them fully, though they weren't in formation. Most of the enlisted crew where lounging about in the Cargo Bay, leaning on supply crates or sitting on the deck, only the command crew standing behind her at parade rest in their Dress Blue uniforms. This was going to be one of those times where talking was needed, but it wouldn't be one of those times where people were going to be listening with half-an-ear. What she had to say would affect them all.

"Alright, folks." Jannie spoke, standing in the center of the Cargo Bay, her green eyes sweeping around to look at her crew, these men and women. "I know for many of you," she began, "were scheduled to be a part of this ship for its shakedown runs, specifically trained for the many innovations that this Frigate has. But ever since the distress call from Eden Prime, every single one of you has performed above-and-beyond expectation.

"Today, I ask for more."

Jannie cast her eyes about, and saw that she had everyone's absolute attention, no one looking about, talking to their neighbor, or only pretending to listen. Good.

"Yesterday," the Lion continued, "I was in conference with Admiral Hackett." All the Humans knew who that was, Commandantof Arcturus Station, as well as one of the celebrated Bravest Generation, and Star of Terra-recipient. "Sailors? We are _THE_ spear, Humanity's vengeance made real." Shepard saw Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams nodding, a brutal smile on her face. "We are going out into the black to hunt down Geth. We are going out into the black to hunt down Saren. Any allies and confederates that he might have are our enemies, and will know only the mercy of _death_." Urdnot Wrex chuckled somewhere in the crowd, the half-tonne Krogan obviously pleased. "Today, I will ask for more, and then I will ask for more than even that. We will be out there, as silent as the shadow, the proverbial knife in the dark, poised to strike at a moments' notice at our enemies' weaknesses. Wherever they are? We _will_ be there to ensure that _nothing_ goes according to plan."

There were a great many nodding heads in the Cargo Bay, and Jannie quickly noted who was… and who wasn't. Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly was likely keeping an eye on such things as well.

"My expectations," Humanity's First SPECTRE continued on, "are lofty; I expect the best out of ship and crew, from Captain to Seaman. Starting tomorrow? The _Normandy_ will be berthed at the Arcturus Shipyard for a major overhaul, refit and retrofit, for a period of seven to ten days. Alliance shipbuilders are going to go over nook and cranny of this vessel, from nut to bolt, from code to screen, to make sure that everything is working true to form. They will crawl over this ship and make sure that _you_ have the best." Jannie smiled. "Not only did I approve of a major overhaul for equipment… but accommodations as well." That had some looks traded amongst the crew. "The Galley is getting a proper kitchen, and we will be having fresh supplies and cooked meals." Jannie could tell that was going over well. "Crew Quarters are going from sleeper pods to crew bunks." There were a few _whoops_ of enjoyment over that. "I've got a few other things that will be installed or added to, because I am going to be asking a lot out of you, and it's only fair that I return the favor. And who was the moron that suggested a wet bar?" A hand went up in the air with a smirk attached to it.

"Go figure, a fucking Marine." Ash replied out loud, several Sailor's chuckling at the Colonial Soldier's comment.

"It got approved, Ballsack." Shepard told everyone, making the Marine in question _hoo-rah!_ in response, Private Nathaniel Balsach high-fiving Lance Corporal Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss beside him while Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder merely shook her head, smiling all the while. Hers wasn't the only one. "It's because I am going to ask _everything_ out of you, folks, up to and including your _lives_." The smiles and good will evaporated as Jannie slowly spun, making sure she saw each and every member of her crew. "Lives have already been lost. Marines. Soldiers. _Civilians_. None of them knew that that day would be their last when the Geth came, intent on exterminating all who stood in the way of their objective." The Lion wasn't splitting hairs now. "Our people are in danger, and thanks to the Council of Law, it is now solely _our_ problem save for a few brave volunteers." There were looks to the volunteers in question, but none of them were dark or malicious. Jannie made it understood that the non-Humans on her vessel were _hers_ , and were exempted from doubt or incrimination. "Make no mistake, your lives are in danger because _I'm_ going to put them in danger. I am going to fly right into the teeth of our enemies with the intent of kicking them in."

Many in the Cargo Bay were nodding in agreement or acceptance. Good.

"To fight the Geth and Saren," Jannie wrapped up, "we will be fielding the best equipment we've got, the best tech we can get our hands on, and the best tools we can craft.

"Now I just need the best hands in which to use them. Whom shall I send? _WHO'S WITH ME?"_

" _Hear am I! Send me!"_ Came from the throat of every Human Being, echoing a response straight from the Holy Bible, loud enough to be heard outside the vessel.

"For the next seven to ten days," Jannie nodded, looking to her crew, "we will train. We will train harder than we ever had, because we will be locked in battles harder than we've ever been. Every impossible scenario will be covered and done until we can do it in our sleep. Drills will be run until we can rewrite the book. Emergency evac procedures and battle status alerts will be hammered. Everyone will go through damage control protocols until they can regurgitate it on demand. For the next seven to ten days, I will personally make sure that your job, your _profession_ , is drilled so hard in your skulls that you will literally be considered _the_ subject-matter experts. We will be getting more crew members later today so that three Watch rotations will be set, but for the next week, we will work upon ourselves in a way that I can only describe as anal-retentive, the same effort put into yourselves as it will be for this ship. This will literally be the _fucking best_ vessel in the Alliance Navy, manned by the _fucking best_ crew possible. Trust me, you're going to be glad I put in a wet bar." There was the necessary humor, and Jannie got the appropriate chuckles.

"Normandiers, I've already got a set schedule with your Departments based on training, simulations, classes, and fast-paced integration courses." Everyone was still looking, and still interested. Good. "Admiral Hackett has already cleared several locations for drills and simulations. Joker? Be prepared to do a few _Kobayashi Maru_ -like missions based upon what little we can guess on Geth Fleet tactics." That had the Flight Lieutenant nodding. "Your Department leads will have your times and locations, with appropriate amongst of rest times and some personal time as well. Enjoy it while you can, settle affairs and update your files and wills. I am _not_ fucking around on that one." That had the crew looking somber. Jannie wasn't going to promise they would make it; she could never expect to keep that promise, so she would do the next best thing by making them as great as possible to increase everyone's odds. "For the ground crew? You will be under my command, and you are going to be outfitted with weaponry, armor, and tech badass enough to take on the Geth. We are going to be hitting the ranges and the combat simulator arena to hone our teamwork and tactics, to come up with scenarios and strategies to work against a fluid enemy. As we speak, the range-weenies are actually inventing an even harder setting just for us."

"Bring it on, ma'am." Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard replied, a vengeful smile upon the young Marines' face. The other Marines responded with a hearty _hoo-rah_. Kids… they were just fucking kids, but they were all she had. So she was going to make sure they were the epitome of Marine lethality.

"Alright, folks. That's what I got for you." Shepard smiled at her crew. "Enjoy the rest of the evening at Liberty, and be prepared to pay it back over the next several days."

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder was walking the Lower Hub of Arcturus Station, feeling a little homesick at the sight and feel of being on a station once more. Though it wasn't the Cit by a long shot, there was something about being on a station that _felt_ like home to her, something that ships didn't quite catch. Beside her was Corporal Scott Michael Ryder, her twin brother having to return to the SSV _Flavius_ the next day. Two years had been way too long, and two days hardly enough. Still, Sara was going to spend as much time as she could with her 'little' brother, soaking up as much as she could. She honestly didn't know when she would get another chance. Or… if.

"Got a message from Dad last night." Sara told Scott, making the Marine 'harrumph' in response. Dad and Scott hadn't really been on _speaking_ terms ever since Scott thought Dad was seeing someone else so soon after Mom passed away. Sara wasn't exactly sure if Dad was in fact 'seeing' the woman-in-question, who also happened to be his subordinate, Cora Lynn Harper. They seemed close, so she guessed there was the possibility. But she knew for a fact that Dad hadn't met her until after Mom passed away, so that wasn't in question. Scott had always sought for his father's approval, while Sara had been so much like their mother, but Mom's sickness had change things for their family. It wasn't fair to say that Dad _wasn't_ there. He was away often though, trying to find a way and a means to save his wife's life, to find some possible treatment for her Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy, what most everyone called 'the Eezo Cancer'. There was no known cure, but Alec Clancy Ryder had never been one to accept an easy answer over the truth. He had used every resource, every contact, every means to find any possible solution to Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder's condition. He had been gone on-and-off again for five years on a quest to save his wife, and for that, Sara would forgive him of just about anything.

Scott… was another matter.

"What did he say?"

"Not happy about what happened on Therum, but he's glad that I am alive and well, and grateful that Auntie was able to come to my rescue." Evidently, Jannie had given Dad a more detailed message than Sara had, who had… edited the events to something a little more prosaic. She loved her Dad, but Alec Ryder was bull-headed and stubborn to a fault. He didn't need to be ripping through half the galaxy on a misconceived notion that his little girl needed him to hold her hand. She would have to rectify that with a properly detailed message and the reassurance that she wasn't twelve anymore. "Guess he's in Sol, working on… whatever project or whatnot he's on."

"Humph." Scott snorted as a response, obviously trying not to sour the mood with his opinion while acknowledging that Sara thought differently but not wishing to get into it. "So… the _Normandy_?"

"Yeah." Sara had missed out on the minor Human media frenzy about the SSV _Normandy's_ miracle rescue of Constant, Eden Prime, not to mention the introduction of Humanity's First SPECTRE. It was still surreal to her in a way; it was Auntie! All her life, she had always looked up to her Aunt Jannie, and to think that paragon of awesomeness she looked up to when she was a little girl was now a Council Agent was… it was amazing! But with the Geth on the loose, Sara knew what the Lion would do. It was one of the reasons why Sara agreed to join the _Normandy_ and its dangerous mission. Jannie needed to stand strong for Humanity. Jannie needed someone who would watch her back while she did so, no matter what. Her crew needed it, too. "I wish you could come with us, Scottie. It'd be pretty awesome if we worked together." Unfortunately, the Systems Alliance Military had adopted an ancient rule about family members working in the same unit or vessel. Sara and Jannie was one thing; they weren't physically related. But Scott was her twin brother. No matter who asked or tried, it would never be approved.

"I'll be honest, Sara, you deserve it more than me." Her brother replied as they walked along the Lower Hub, passing by a few civilian-oriented stores, mostly catering to pulling Credits from young service members looking for the latest in electronics, entertainment, or body art. "I'm not saying I don't want the chance, but I think… I think you've done better than me these past two years, Minute Rice. You always were the better long-term planner."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Silver Medal." Scott stuck his tongue out at the affectionate nickname, making Sara smile at the face he made. "You haven't slouched, making your Corporal so quickly, hitting up those college courses and correspondence courses. I don't doubt you'll be seeing your Sergeant here soon, and I know what that means." Sara knew that her brother was hoping to go Green-to-Gold, to becoming a Marine Commissioned Officer. One had to be at least an E-5 to be considered. Everything that she said would help him obtain that goal.

"That's my point right there, Sara; you helped me there." Scott looked to her with a smile. "You're the one who suggested to me to do just that. You're the one who kept up with me, to help me stay on track. When I was losing my focus, you were always there. While I don't like the thought of you being in danger, I know that you aren't some gun-ho Private assured that bullets will somehow miss him. You've trained yourself to be better and better, and you're more than smart enough for this. Of the two of us, _you_ are the better option, Minute Rice."

"Well, I _was_ born first, after all." Sara added with a wink, making her brother groan as she folded her arms across her chest, smirking at her taller, one-minute younger brother. "There is something I'd like to talk to you about though, Scottie. Something personal."

"Uh oh." Her brother's smirk was growing by the millisecond. "There's a boy, isn't there?"

"Ugh! You're as bad as Auntie!" Sara replied, exasperated, throwing up her hands in defeat. "And no, it isn't a boy. It's… a woman."

"Okay. Wow. That's… a first." Scott mulled it over for a moment. "Um, don't mind me asking, but… you did talk an awful lot about an Asari Professor in your messages."

"Yes, it's her." Sara answered her brother's unanswered question. "We've been together since, well, more-or-less since I arrived on Therum. When the Geth came, she _elected_ to stay behind instead of evacuating with the rest of the members of the Serrice and Oxford Team. Yes, there weren't exactly enough seats for everyone, but she stood by our side." She saw that her brother got the gist of it.

"That's pretty significant, Sara." Scott slowly nodded as they continued to walk down the Lower Hub, passing by a small park. "One to ten scale of seriousness?"

"We had our first Joining this morning." Sara replied quietly, her words meant only for him, and not to the many Humans around them going to and fro upon their business. Scott grew up on the Cit, so he knew a bit more than the common Human Being on such things as to what a Joining entailed, though he hadn't learned as much Asari culture as Sara had, who had attended the Presidium Academy of Education where two-thirds of the Instructors were Asari. Scott had a likely idea on how serious that meant.

"Wow. Okay. You like each other then." Scott snorted a little, but smiled none the less. "If you're happy, Sara? Then I'm happy. Like to meet her at the least. I think that's fair."

"I can set that up. I guess Auntie already had 'the talk' with her." Sara rolled her eyes at that, but she knew that Jannie meant well. "Better her than Dad."

"Yeah. Might want to leave that picture out on the Christmas Card list."

* * *

"…so the Elcor is trying to give birth, in all places, their Embassy." Petty Officer Sara Ryder explained as Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams listened to the story with some amusement. "Chief Shayla tells me since I wanted to get my hands dirty, I would be doing the catching." That had the Colonial Soldier chuckling, trying to imagine an even _younger_ Sara Ryder playing midwife. "The calf was stuck, trying to come out at a bad angle, and our Barber-Surgeon, Alixa Trevalis, tells me that Elcor skin is too dense for the instruments that we have, and we can't do an emergency birth canal; their idea of a C-Section. So…

"I got to physically assist." The Corpsman winced at the memory.

"As in…?" Ash reached a hand out suggestively, as if grabbing something.

"Oh yeah. Boldly went where no man had gone before." It was too much as Williams began to laugh out loud, trying to picture the young woman reaching _into_ an Elcor through the Cows'… _nope, don't picture it, don't imagine it, don't even pretend to try!_ Ash warned herself as she winced as well, trying to think of anything else other than a young woman having to _physically assist_ an Elcor giving birth to a twenty-five kilogram Calf by _reaching in_. It was nauseating and funny at the same time as Ash pretended to gag. "So… dived in, found the baby, corrected the angle, and got hit with a bowling ball-sized mewling Elcor boy as it shot out and hit me in the chest about a minute later. I was absolutely _slathered_ in birth fluid."

"Oh jeez, makes me glad I went Infantry." The Staff Sergeant replied with a chuckle as the two of them stood in front of the SSV _Normandy's_ deployment ramp, the Frigate scheduled to leave for the Arcturus Shipyard the next day for its major overhaul. As Ash understood it, the Skipper was paying a pretty Credit to make a top-of-the-line warship into something even more fantastical, pulling out all the stops to ensure the greatest amount of success and survivability in terms of mission and crew. Ash was already under the heady impression that Captain Jane Shepard would very likely be the best Commanding Officer she'd ever work with. Then she went and one-up'ed herself. "Bet you've got a ton of stories being in the CitEMS. Good ones, bad ones, gross ones."

"Oh God, don't remind me." Sara smiled as she looked out into the Lower Hub, seeing the amount personnel drop as the work day ended. The Captain had told them that the new crew members would be arriving at COB, and both the Staff Sergeant and the Petty Officer had elected to stand final Watch and accept the new crew members to give others a chance to enjoy an early evening. As Ash understood it, Sara had _plans_ later on now that her twin brother had shipped back to his post at some Relay, a Marine on guard duty. No doubt that had been a tearful goodbye, but she understood; she had three younger sisters of her own living on Terra Nova that got to see their Big Sis only twice a year. Family mattered to Sara in all the right ways. "Next time? I'll tell you about the one with the Hanar, the Asari Maiden, and the… appliance malfunction."

"That isn't a bar joke?"

"I wish." Sara snorted, folding her arms across her chest, her rather impressive muscular biceps accentuated by the act as the shorter woman spied something. "Got two coming up. I'm going to say cousins unless someone in BuPers fucked up big time." Ash saw what the Corpsman had seen, two look-alike women in Alliance Blues coming towards the _Normandy_ with SeaBags over their shoulders. Williams couldn't immediately spot their rank, but by their age, she'd guess Seaman-types; Lower Enlisted. More kids sent to war, Goddamn it.

"Ma'am!" Both women dropped their bags and stood at attention, saluting the obvious Sailor as Ash watched on in a relaxed version of parade rest. "Able Seaman Dravens and Dravens, reporting as ordered!" That was the left one, and Williams spotted the fact that both women were not only named 'Dravens', but had the same rank as well. Ash was still iffy on the confusing ranks and names, but she was pretty sure Able Seaman meant E-3. Both Seamen dropped their salutes when the Petty Officer gave them one of her own.

"Your orders." Ryder said simply, and it was the right one that gave the Corpsman both sets of datapads as Ash studied the women themselves. Jeez, nineteen if they were over a day. The family resemblance between the two was strong as hell, to boot; they could pass off as fraternal twins, easily. Even identical with a little bit of make-up. "Seaman Dravens, Rosamund, LT4. Seaman Dravens, Tabitha, LS4. Tour of duty, SSV _Normandy_." Sara read out loud as the Sailors stood there, still at attention. "Cousins?"

" _Aye aye, Chief!_ " Both responded at the same time, making Ash crack a smile. "Permission to come aboard?" That was the right one. Williams wasn't sure which one was which.

"Permission granted, Seamen." Sara saluted, both Sailors returning the salute. "Report to the Galley for berthing assignments and your next orders from Lieutenant Alenko. That will be all."

" _Aye aye, Chief!_ " Both of the women hoisted up their SeaBags and headed up the deployment ramp, and the Staff Sergeant watched as the both of them boarded the _Normandy_ -Class Frigate. When they were out of sight, Ash found that she was a host of blue eyes looking at her, Sara studying her.

"What?"

"You were checking them out." The Corpsman smiled, a small smile on her lips. "Don't deny it."

"Well…" The Soldier coughed uncomfortably, having been caught. "Someone's got to save them from the jaws of manliness… and your Marines." That had the Angel snort, a knowing grin on her face.

"Spent several weeks the only women on a Marine deployment. You probably don't want to know the amount of flirting and looks I got." Williams winced at that. She had never been the only female in a unit, which had been nice to split up some of _that_ attention. She didn't advertise her own orientation, though it was generally figured out after a few weeks or months whenever she went to a new post, hit up a bar, or tried talking to another woman with the intent to flirt and ask out on a date. Still, guys thought lesbians were hot, and Ash wasn't ashamed to admit that she liked _some_ of the attention.

"Give any a taste?"

"Fuck no. I'm not stupid." Sara replied readily enough that Ash believed her. "Trying that in such an enclosed place just reeks of bad ideas and regrets. Besides," the Corpsman shrugged and smiled, "I'm in a committed relationship. I'm not ruining that on a night of stupid fun."

"Smart girl." Williams had the sense that Doc was likely taken. Pity, she was both cute and spunky. Whoever he was? He was one lucky guy. Ash didn't doubt Ryder was probably a little hellcat in the sheets. Athletic body like that? She probably could drain a man dry and leave him dead with a smile on his face. "Think we got another one coming up. Officer-type."

"You… have got… to be _shitting_ me." Ryder spat out as she saw who was approaching the _Normandy_. "Of all the fucking _Humans_ in the Goddamn galaxy…" The Soldier looked to the Corpsman, a little confused as she looked back to the man in question. Dressed in Alliance Dress Blues, the normal wear for an Officer, she saw that the man was tall, muscled, ruggedly handsome, and looked like he could be a model for a magazine or an underwear advertisement. She spied the nametape, 'Vanderloo', and the rank, a Full-Flank Commander.

"Know him?" Ash asked as the man approached the gangplank, still far enough away not to hear them.

"Un- _fucking_ -fortunately." The hostility and acidity in Sara's tone was surprising. Williams couldn't imagine the Corpsman had it in her. Who ever this Commander was had certainly earned her ire. "Might want to stick away from the splash damage, Army. This will get ugly." Sara folded her muscular arms across her chest in a more aggressive way as she leaned back on one leg and lifted her chin up just slightly. _Oh damn,_ Williams thought to herself, seeing the aggressive stance. She wasn't about to back away, but she had to admit she was curious as to why Doc looked ready to rip a motherfucker in half. The man approached closer as he carried his SeaBag in one hand, coming up towards the obvious Watch, looking at Sara in her Navy-colored Alliance Blues, heading towards the Petty Officer. Whoever he was? He didn't seem to recognize her… or the hostility.

"Petty Officer." The man approached, his voice hinted with a Dutch accent, well-chiseled features open and honest, and Ash had to admit that he was a handsome one. Former lover? No… he would have recognized Sara. Plus, the man seemed to be in his late twenties, possibly very early thirties. Williams ventured to guess that they hadn't even served together before. So how did Sara know him when he didn't recognize her? "Commander Vanderloo to report to the _Normandy_ as ships' Executive Officer." The man pulled a datapad out to hand over, and Ash honestly wasn't too surprised to see that the Corpsman didn't take it. The Commander was though, frowning.

"Hello, Mark. Not happy to see you, s _ir._ "

The man looked at the Petty Officer for a second, and then did a double-take.

"Sara?" The man sounded genuinely surprised, his eyes wide as he looked at her, looking her over in amazement. "Is that you, Sara Ryder?"

" _Yeeeep_. _"_ She popped the 'p' at the end, and Ash felt like she was watching a Quidditch match, going back and forth. "Been a few years. Grew up. Joined the Navy." The acidity had left her voice, and Williams noted that this Field-Grade Officer (or whatever the Navy equivalent was) wasn't busting her chops for her obvious disrespectful tone. Whatever was going on, the man likely knew that he was on the losing end. It was the only thing that made sense. "How 'bout you, Mark? Use any other women in the name of personal gratification? Any other wives you've walked all over?" Williams was a little shocked at Ryder's words. What she was implying… _naw, couldn't be. Could it?_

"Still as spunky as ever, I see." Commander Vanderloo sighed, obviously not going to get into it. "Is she in?"

"Ready Room." Sara just jerked her head in the general direction. "I suggest full armor and an extra cup. It might save your balls." The Officer stood stiffer at that one as he merely nodded and began to walk by. "Oh, Mark?" The man stopped and turned for a moment to look at Sara. "Don't bother calling for Doc, either." Ash was doing her best not to let her jaw drop or to chuckle out loud as she watched the Naval Officer officially _run away_ at a full professional walk, heading deeper into the _Normandy_. Damn!

"Doc, all I got to say is never let me piss you off." Williams told the Petty Officer, who was still glaring daggers towards the retreating Commander as he entered the Cargo Bay to head towards the elevator. "So… spill. Who was that guy?"

"The most vile, repulsive, and despised creature in the known galaxy, agreed upon by every gender and species." Sara said, looking to Ash. "A being so terrible? Only one letter is needed to describe its bane. _X_."

"That's the Skippers' ex- _husband_?" The Staff Sergeant asked, shocked. She had no idea that Captain Shepard was even _married_ before! She certainly hadn't heard of the Lion of Elysium referred to as _Vanderloo_. "Waitaminute! You're telling me that _that_ guy who just walked onto the _Lions'_ ship just so happens to be her _ex-husband_?"

"Fate has its ironies, Staff Sergeant." The Corpsman replied, and then her face broke into a smile. "Now that she's a SPECTRE, she can legally kill her ex-husband and get away with it; every woman's dream."

Ashley just stared at Sara… and busted out laughing.

* * *

There was about thirty-seven thousand places Commander Mark Vanderloo would have rather been than standing in the middle of the CIC of the SSV _Normandy_. Like Venus. Or perhaps some far-flung doom-and-gloom colony out in some backspace end of nowhere where the only possible way to get there was generation drive. Standing upon the Bridge of his ex-wife's vessel?

Oh yeah. God was having a good old laugh with the Devil at his expense, for sure.

Mark stood at attention, his right hand still touching his brow as he saluted Captain Jane Catherine Shepard; the Lion of Elysium, graduate of the toughest combative training program known to Mankind, Commanding Officer to the most advanced warship in the Alliance Navy, and Humanity's First SPECTRE. He remember getting his orders just the day prior, seeing which ship his next Tour of Duty would be, and who it would be with. The only question he really had was _what fucking idiot had thought this a good idea?_ He couldn't request a change of orders without _her_ recommendation, which probably shouldn't be too hard. But there was a reason the Commander had been ordered to the _Normandy_ , and it wasn't because of irony.

"At ease." Jane said coolly, standing at parade rest as she did so, not returning the salute, though it wasn't necessarily required. Aboard her ship, Shepard was of the highest authority, and her word was law. He had heard that she had just gotten her O-5 half-a-year prior, and even slated for an Unrestricted Line Officer position as a Frigate's XO. Now she was a Captain, a SPECTRE, and his boss.

If there were indeed nine circles of Hell, he had just discovered the tenth.

"My orders, ma'am." Mark did his best to be as professional as possible about this very unlikely scenario, handing over his datapad to be inspected. The redhead merely took it, her face as cool and as even as ever as she scanned its contents. What she read had her frowned.

"This is not what I had in mind when I asked for a full complement of crew members for a Frigate." The N7 muttered to herself, swiping down the orders, scanning through them. "I already have an XO, and a good one at that." She chewed her bottom lip a little, and Mark knew what that meant; internal conflict. No doubt that his ex-wife would love to have him absolutely anywhere else but her vessel, but there was a reason for that conflict. No doubt that her XO was indeed a good one, as Jane never settled for anything less than dedicated men and women, but there was a reason for that conflict.

Commander Mark Vanderloo was considered one of the best Unrestricted Line Officers in the service, having been lauded since he graduated Valedictorian from the Systems Alliance Military Academy in 2176. Then he had proved himself time and again during the Skyllian Blitz as the Commanding Officer of the _Corvette_ -Class SSV _Expedition_ , running hit-and-run tactics against pirate forces and (magically) non-Hegemony vessels. When it came to acting alone in the black and facing greater odds but coming out on top? There was none better than him. Mark knew that, and Jane knew that. But having the two of them on the same ship? There in lied the conflict going on in Jane's mind.

It was a doozy, to be sure.

"Ensign Moon? You have the Bridge." The redhead told the other person upon the Bridge, a tiny woman of Oriental descent who saluted in acknowledgment. "I'll be in my Ready Room." Shepard tilted her head towards her Ready Room, and Mark dutifully followed. At least whatever she was going to say, she kept off the Bridge. Not that he doubted her professionalism, but the dissolution of their marriage had been… messy. They entered into the Ready Room, and Mark's eyes went wide at the decorations and furniture, almost as if he had stepped into a time portal into the past back when Navy ships were made of wood and its men out of iron. He saw Captain David Edward Anderson's hand in it, the man being a Naval historian in his own right. Jane moved to the antique desk, stepping around it to sit in her own personal chair as she casually gestured towards the guest chair. The Commander took to the seat quietly, wondering what was to transpire, a little surprised to see Jane pull out from her desk a bottle of Elysium Gold Whiskey and two glasses, pouring a healthy amount into each.

" _In Vino, Veritas?"_ Mark asked as he found himself taking his glass as Shepard put away the bottle.

"Unless there's a Latin word for whiskey, yes." The N7 snorted with a small smile, one that didn't reach her green eyes at all. "Not going to lie, Mark. This?" She pointed right at him. "Pure fucking bullshit. Straight up-and-down." He wasn't quite sure if she meant the situation of him getting orders for her ship and mission, or the complete and utter disaster that was their marriage. Either could have applied appropriately. "Here I was hoping I'd never really see you again except for the rare passing-by or mutually-attended function."

"Hmm." Vanderloo really didn't have anything to add or detract from that. Actually, he was a little surprise that her opinion was that congenial. He knew some divorced couples that couldn't even stand been within a couple hundred meters of each other. There were some where that was actually legally applied! The fact that they could be in the same room for a few minutes and it not degenerate into a shouting match, screaming match, shoving match, or boxing match was certainly a start. "So what is it that you want, Jane?"

"Not gonna lie, Mark; we're fucked." The redhead took a healthy swallow of her whiskey. "Mankind is about to get its ass handed back on a Geth-served platter. Too many people are scared, screaming for the Fleets to stay close to home, and too many politicians are leading that charge. Bunkering down isn't going to stop the threat, and the Geth aren't an organic threat. They're not going to tire, get bored, have a political season change on them, or hold peace talks. Our five active Fleets are going to protect our major routes with the Battle Groups, Flotillas, and Patrols trying to cover the gaps. We're too big, we own too much." The Captain snorted as she looked… nostalgic for a moment. "Someone asked me if Humanity was ready for this. Now I know the answer, and it isn't to my liking."

"With the attacks on Eden Prime and Therum together, I'm sure the Admiralty Board will convince Parliament that an _active_ stance will be in everyone's best interest." Mark replied, taking a sip of the whiskey. It was actually good whiskey.

"Too little, too late." Shepard replied. "And how many more attacks will it take to convince a majority of Parliament to vote that way? How many more lives will be lost? Y'know… if we had been Turians?" There was a lop-sided smile to that, no joy in it whatsoever. "The first word of 'Geth' would have had one-half of the Fleet mobilizing for a counter-invasion, piercing the Perseus Veil and glassing Rannoch in retaliation, while the other half obliterated every ship outside of the Veil in retribution."

"Makes one wonder, doesn't it?" Jane never said it out loud, but she _hated_ Turians. Turians had killed her father when she had been just a little girl, and she had grown up only with stories of him. She was far from the only one amongst Mankind to feel that way for that reason or one similar. He remembered when little Sara Ryder had shyly admitted to actually dating a Turian to her Auntie when she was sixteen, and how Jane had practically bitten her tongue off trying to be supportive.

"Mark," Jane polished off the rest of her whiskey, and Mark frowned at the sight; that didn't bode what he was expecting. "I need you on this ship. Personal differences aside, we're going to lead the charge against the Geth and that fucking Turian. It's going to be us and nobody else, not for a while, at least. The _Normandy_ needs the best," the redhead took a breath and let out an emphatic sigh, "and you are one of the best Naval commanders we've got. I would be a fucking idiot not to recognize that."

"Your current XO?"

"He's good, he really is. But you outstrip him by far." Shepard replied. "Hell, I've got practically everyone working one-or-two positions ahead of where they're suppose to be, so I guess you might be the first in the line of putting men where they are needed and slipping the original Normandiers back into their proper duties. Should have expected that, but I've been hit-the-ground-running since Eden Prime, and really haven't had much of a chance to stop and look that much at the big picture expect for when it comes to the Geth. And honestly? You know I don't have the Command-Time or the Department-Time to really lead a ship properly, not even a Frigate. Been in the Teams too long, not enough Deck time."

"I wouldn't sell yourself short, Jane. And a Commanding Officer is only as good as their crew, after all." Mark replied, polishing off his own whiskey, setting it down on a coaster upon the ancient desk. "Here I'd figure you'd be sending an immediate change-of-orders to the Board. Or me into an airlock."

"Tempting, but no." Jane's wolfish smile was a little less frigid than before. "My crew needs someone who can do the things you do, think the way they think. I just gave them a big ol' speech about being the best and getting the best, and I'm not about to shoot myself in the foot and go back on my word. I'd rather be fucking awkward with you around than the other way around." That had him nod, expecting no less out of either himself or Jane. No one wanted to bury men, especially out of pettiness. "It might be trying to keep it professional, but this crew deserves it, and this mission deserves it. We're going to be on the forefront and likely the only true response in the name of Humanity. It'd be a shame to fuck it up over squabbling drama."

"Agreed, and I can do that." He had learned since their failed marriage. Had grown up, had matured. It wasn't like they had gotten married for all the wrong reasons, though upon reflection he had been less than ready to make that full commitment but hadn't seen it. Jane… Jane really had loved him, but he had messed that up. In more ways than one. She was right on this though; this mission needed them to be at their best, because anything less would get them and their people killed. And no one wanted that guilt on their conscious. "I can already imagine the scuttlebutt on this one. The Navy's true weapon of mass destruction; the power of rumor." That had Jane laugh, and it felt good to see her laugh.

"You did run into Sara below deck, right?" There was a twinkle to her green eyes, and her smile was a _little_ malicious.

"Yes I did." Honestly, he had been shocked to see her. "Did she steal some Marines' arms and attach them to her shoulders? Jesus Christ." His memories of Sara Ryder were of a young teenaged girl, all smiles and questions, never standing still and never slowing down. What he had seen at the deployment ramp was as if someone had attached her twenty-year old head onto the body of a Marine and pumped it full of vindictiveness. Well, the second part he got. "I think her exact word were 'bring a cup and don't call for Doc'."

"She's our Corpsman, Mark. My ground team Doc." Whatever rubbing in Jane was doing before was gone now, and he saw that this concerned her. "She's the Goddamn _best_ at what she does, Mark. Trained xenomedic at the Cit, one of the best schools in the galaxy, a Fleet Marine Corpsman… and I'm going to be sending her on a fucking SPECTRE mission that could very well get her killed." _Damn,_ Mark thought to himself, knowing just how much Sara meant to Jane. She was right, though, Sara being the best. But the mission was that important, that desperate. Mankind was at stake, and the redhead was sending the woman she saw as her _sister_ into the fray because the stakes were that high. "I'm revamping this state-of-the-art ship with _everything_ we can possibly conceive to eek out that extra percentage, to get that little extra, just on hope at success and _bring my crew home_." There was that passion, what made Jane the Lion. She would bend over backwards for her personal motto; _mission first, crew always_. "We just buried an eighteen-year old Marine, one of Sara's, and on Eden Prime I lost a Corporal whose dog tags I still have because his parents were killed, too."

"Fuck." Yeah, he could easily tell why Jane was so adamant on this. For the woman who lost a father she couldn't remember, Jane Shepard had always pushed her Team to being better so they could go home to their families. She had lost N brothers and sisters to missions, but no one would ever dare suggest it had been due to inadequacy or improper planning. Jane pushed herself twice as hard to be twice as good because that's what she thought a leader should be; the absolute paragon of authority and hard work. In the end, it was because she cared.

"Then we make sure we keep that promise; have the best, be the best." Mark had no issues keeping that promise. "What's our budget like?"

"We've got a Battle Group's budget." The redhead answered with a snort, and that had him shocked. Well, Jane was a SPECTRE now, but even that was a good deal more than what he would expect. The budget to run a Cruiser or a Carrier would have been more than sufficient. A full Battle Group? Someone intended to have the Lion of Elysium as absolutely prepared as possible, to have the absolute best equipment, arms, armor, and tech that money could possibly buy. "We start drilling tomorrow, and I want _you_ ," her green eyes were locked in on his own, "to be an absolute demon. I want lofty expectations and a very high bar, and I don't want you to be satisfied with anything less. Hound them until you're utterly satisfied that there is no one better than they."

And just like that, he was her Executive Officer.

"How long do we have?"

"A week, no more than ten days." The _Normandy's_ Captain told him in no uncertain tones. "I've got simulators and caterers to maximize on training time, and even got berths set up so they can get their rest without having to pay for it themselves. They will have a couple hours of Liberty each night before their rest time so no one's burning out, but make no mistake; _I want greatness_."

"Then I'll make it happen." Commander Mark Vanderloo promised.

He wasn't going to let her down. Not this time, not on this.

* * *

Author's Notes: I know the portion with Sara and Irissa was a little fluffy, but I was exploring their relationship in a little more detail. Trust me, it will matter throughout the story. And not for fluff.

No _embrace eternity_ thing. Seriously, you need an 'abracadabra' word to activate mental sex?

Isaiah 6:8 \- Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And Who will go forth for us?" And I said, "Here am I! Send me!"

The 'ancient' rule in which family cannot be in the same unit or vessel is known as the 'Sullivan Policy', in which five brothers serving on the USS _Juneau_ were killed almost with almost all hands due to a submarine's torpedo in WWII. 634 souls… only 10 survived the two weeks on the water. There's a reason we call them 'the Greatest Generation'.

The Dravens - Some of the SR-1's casualties during the Collector attack. I don't remember if the first names were on the dogtags on the Alchera mission, but they most certainly are on the Memorial Wall in ME3 along with all the other casualties. Considering I just explained the Sullivan Policy about siblings, I made them cousins.

Mark Vanderloo - This isn't really an OC. Mark Vanderloo is, in fact, ManShep's face model. Mark Vanderloo is a Dutch model, and as a bit of a joke on myself when I did the Hale/Meer Chronicles and used voice actors to populate that flip-the-script fanfic, I made the Lion an ex-husband based upon her male counterpart's looks. Not many fanfic's have Shepard with an ex, because… who would have the balls to divorce Shepard and live to tell the tale? Or worse… ruin the marriage in the first place?

Quidditch? - Yes, the Harry Potter game JKK Rowlings invented. I'm going to show it off in a little as a Mass Effect-styled game involving speederbikes, drones, and a variety of rules similar, because despite I thought the Harry Potter series okay-ish (gee, really? 10 year old kid saves the day?), the concept of Quidditch was really innovating if a little confusing when one adds a killgame scenario with the Snitch. Expect to see it on the Cit.

I've had a few people ask me who I'm shipping Shepard with. This is the SSV _Normandy_ , not the Love Boat. Honestly… you're just going to have to wait and see.


	14. End Of Watch, IV

_We've Got Nukes! We've Got Knives! We've Got Sharp Sticks! (RIP, Bill Paxton)_

 **Arcturus Simulator Range, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 19, 2183**

Author's Note: Fun Chapter!

* * *

The SSV _Normandy's_ ground team had gathered together in the Simulator Range, complete with a great deal of TuffBoxes set up along the walls of the firers' lane filled with various weaponry and appropriate attachments and modifications to fit the shooters' desires. Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the gunmetal-gray room wearing her Battle Duty Uniform, knowing that Auntie had already went and upgraded the armor for the Human team members. Well, it wasn't like the Arc would have a supply of Turian armor, would it? She already knew that the next destination would be the Cit for more exotic weaponry, materials, and a visit to the Office of Special Tactics so Auntie could further fit the ground team with the best possible equipment. If they were going to have to fight a war with something like a dozen or so people. Captain Jane Catherine Shepard fully intended them to be armed, armored, and teched to the teeth. Sara was all for that.

"So…" Auntie came up to her as Sara watched her Marines play grab-ass, Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach tussling with Private Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard while Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was running a betting racket as both Privates went full MCMAP on each other, utilizing moves from the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program; a mixture of moves involving Brazilian Ju-juitsu, Krav Maga, Wrestling, Savate, and Boxing. "I go a couple things for you, Sara."

"Is it a pony?" The young woman asked cheekily as the redhead snorted, the old joke falling flat as always.

"Better." Auntie gestured to follow her, and Sara did so as the Captain went to two TuffBoxes that were marked 'SR' and stood separate from the rest. "I've been going through the stock and supplies on how to outfit us better," Jannie began, "but sadly I really didn't find any real weapons in the Alliance stocks that would fit you well. Thankfully, I happened to have some of my own that I thought would be a little more suited to you. Giving you a full-auto Avenger or some single-shot Mattock just isn't your style, kiddo. So… I'm giving you one that I made myself."

Sara's eyes went wide at the thought.

Jane Shepard was a geek, pure and simple. She loved tech, and loved coming up with new tech. Having gone to the Systems Alliance Military Academy with a degree in Engineering, she had propelled her love of inventing and improving hardware to new heights, often customizing or hand-crafting her own equipment, weapons, and armor to be better. Auntie had created her hoverturret Bastilia from a simple assault turret and turned into a minitank, and her utility drone Ghost from a scanning device into a Combat Assistant Cyberwarfare Suite. During her off-times, Auntie tinkered and crafted items to aid in her endeavors, such as her Speedware program that added power to her armor's servos to make her faster, or her Augmented Reality Overlay displays for better battle awareness. She didn't stop until she thought she had the best thing going. To have one of her weapons? Something that she tooled and toiled upon until she saw that it was a lethal instrument? Whatever it was, it was likely to be awesome.

"I want you to meet the 'M-37 Falcon'."

Auntie opened up the hard case to pull out a heavy assault rifle, the likes in which Sara had never seen before. The first thing that she noticed was that it had _two_ barrels, one upper and one lower. Then she realized it had two ammo block ports, too.

"This baby here," Jannie hefted it upward, planting the buttstock into her hip as it extended into combat operations, "is a Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon platform, meant for most any situation you can think of. What it is," the redhead continued, "is an assault rifle based off of the Mattock platform with an upgraded shaver and software suite that I stripped off of a Vindicator. It fires a five-round burst out of a heavy bore, meant to punch through shields and armor quickly. I threw in a better-conductive heat sink so that it can get thirty shots before cooldown. Believe me, this puppy will put several in the ground before you need to lock the bolt back." Jannie smiled, and Sara was impressed. "And when that happens? You go for the shotgun portion."

"It's a shotgun, too?" That explained the underbarrel. _A Masterkey,_ Sara figured.

"This here," Auntie continued, "is actually a M-22 Katana with a few necessaries removed. I pulled out the extra guts from the Mattock and installed the receiver and barrel of the Katana together, retooled the housing, redistributed the power management system, and linked it together with a selector switch. Cool down the rifle? Switch to the shotgun." The smile on Jannie's face was vicious indeed. "Six shot magnum weight with good range and a full choke for maximum effectiveness against personnel. When you're done filling the air with pellets, the rifle has cooled down and you can riddle them with bullets again."

"Holy shit." Okay, Sara was sold. The Falcon sounded awesome!

"But wait! There's more!" Auntie did in a fake infomercial voice. "There's a third option!"

"Dare I ask?" If Auntie claimed that it came with a minifabricated Cobra rocket launcher, she'd probably believe it.

" _Both_." The Lion answered, her smile triumphant. "Why be picky when you can give it to them as dirty as possible? Switch the selector to 'fun!' and the weapon will fire a five-round burst, followed with a shotgun blast right afterwards. That… will likely bring anything humanoid down with one trigger pull. Give it a feel." Jannie handed it over to Sara, and the first thing that the Corpsman noticed was the weight. It certainly wasn't a submachine gun, and it felt twice as heavy as the Hahne-Keder M7 Lancer Assault Rifle. Sara shouldered the Falcon and aimed it towards the end of the range, seeing the holographic sight blink into existence when she took aim, the single-dot Close Quarter Combat sight a simple but effective method of putting rounds-on-target. "Now I won't lie, the damn thing goes through ammo blocks like crazy considering that you'll get about four cooldowns before you're reloading _two_ of them," the redhead continued, "but likely everything will be dead by then."

"Loads the standard blocks?" Sara asked, looking away from the sights and to her Auntie.

"NiFe, MuMetal, Alumnisteel… hell, I vamped that shaver myself where it'll take even some exotic blocks." Sara looked at the weapon in her hands, and then at Jannie. "Yeah, that's usually what I go for when I don't bring my Saber, but I've pretty much modified that thing to its maximum. Pulling anything more out and it'll likely come apart like a puzzle. No frills, no bells, no whistles, just a pure killing weapon. What do you think?"

"Can't wait to see what this does on the range." Sara smirked as she looked to her Auntie. "Thank you." The rifle/shotgun was more than a gift in Sara's mind, and a part of her knew why Auntie was giving her _her_ guns. A part of it was to protect her, the woman who was both friend and sister to her. A part of it was likely gratitude for saving her life twice. To return that favor, Auntie was giving Sara something that would likely kill the enemy before she was in danger. "Why 'M-37 Falcon'?"

"Designation wasn't in use, and it's the name of an Avenger." Sara just rolled her eyes at that. Auntie was such a nerd! "Which brings me to my next item." Shepard gestured for Sara to put the Falcon down on its hard case as the Captain pulled up a smaller box, likely holding a pistol or a submachine gun. "This one… this one is mine, too." Jannie stroked the top of the TuffBox for a moment before opening it to where the redhead could see the contents first, and Sara got curious as Shepard turned the box around to show her what was resting inside, laying on a bed of foam.

" _Oh my fucking God…"_ Sara's eyes went wide as hell as she looked upon a weapon she knew _very_ well; it was highly regarded as the most powerful handgun every made by a Human. Only twenty or so supposedly still existed out of a few thousand, many of them having been decommissioned and broken due to the fact that the weapon _broke_ the Treaty of Farixen; no small feat for a handgun. The ones that still existed were weapons that had been officially issued to the persons in question by the Systems Alliance Government, handed to some of the most elite combatants at the time, and officially given exemptions for those members only. It was a massive thing, the finest weapon produced at the height of Human ingenuity, before the advent of Eezo technology. A mass driver handgun that hit harder than a rifle, a physical thing with no software management suite or IFF targeting system that was bound to all weapons by Council Law. No, this weapon was a weapon of old based upon modern technology. It was a gunslinger's weapon that couldn't be hacked or sabotaged; the way a weapon was meant to be.

The Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, known as the Mammothkiller.

"Jannie! Where the hell did you find another one!" Sara was just shocked at the sight of the buntline revolver, the twenty-five centimeter thick barrel that lead to the fat cylinder that housed the six separate heatsinks; technically, that was illegal under the Citadel Conventions. It weighed in at nearly three kilograms unloaded, and had a hell of a kick. "There's only like twenty or so of these left, Auntie? How the hell did you get one past…"

Sara stopped talking. She looked up to her Aunt. Who was blushing slightly and looking at her… sheepish.

"No." Ryder closed the lip on the TuffBox, her tone pure steel. "Absolutely not, Auntie. There is no way in hell."

"Sara…" Auntie's voice was soft, kind, caring. "Sara… you saved my _life_ … twice. Elysium, and now Therum. I _want_ you to have it, to carry it with you in battle. I know that when one of my crew is in danger, I know what you will do. You will go into danger and you will pull them out because that is who you are. When that catwalk failed, you didn't hesitate, and you saved my life. When someone is hurt, I know you are going to be there, giving them that extra chance at life, to fight death itself. And you will protect them." Jannie smiled at her, a sweet smile that lit up her green eyes. It was love, pure and simple. "I don't want you armed with some weak sauce pop-gun when you do so, when you must protect patient and yourself. I want _you_ to have that extra chance, to be able to give yourself that opportunity, to defeat the enemy and save a comrade. This revolver is quite simply the best there is for just that. And I want you to have it."

"Auntie… this is _your fathers'_." Sara couldn't even say anything more. She knew that Jane Shepard thought the absolute galaxy of her father, a true hero for Humanity who had died saving lives by making himself a distraction while the rest of the Night Stalkers evacuated civilians. His heroic deed saved thousands of innocent lives, men, women, and children, as well as those of his own team. His self-sacrifice was a thing of legends. Jannie _cherished_ the father she never got to personally know and everything that was ever his… including the Model 696 that was given to him before the retaliatory strike on Shanxi to free those who were besieged and endangered by the Turians, the leader and Commanding Officer of one of the greatest Special Forces teams ever assembled. It was given to him with honor, and 1st Lieutenant John Michael Shepard wore it with honor. When he had passed away and the Treaty of Farixen was signed, making such weapons like the Model 696 illegal, Fleet Admiral Jon Ulysses Grissom had written, forwarded, and fought for the exemption of the weapon he had hand-delivered to a man he considered a son for the sakes of his only daughter.

That same daughter wanted _her_ to carry it.

"My father would have approved, Sara. I know he would have." Auntie said quietly, but there wasn't a look of sorrow in her face or any regret in her voice. "Everyone remembers Dad being a hero, but Poppa Bear always told me that Dad had the biggest heart he had ever seen in a man, that it was that quality that made him who he was. Not his skills, his training, any of that. It was the content of his character, the drive he had, the willingness to go above-and-beyond for others because he _cared_. Sara, you are just like that, and I would be touched if you would carry my fathers' Smith and Wesson. You are one of the best, there's no denying it, and you need the best to see it through." Jannie opened up the TuffBox and Sara found herself sucking air through clenched teeth at the sight of the magnificent gun. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; quite the opposite!

"You are sure?" Sara asked tentatively, looking to her Auntie.

"Absolutely, kiddo." Jannie beamed at her, and Sara took the Smith and Wesson with respectful hands, having seen it many times but never having held it or touched it. The revolver was heavier than her Hahne-Keder M5 Stinger Submachine Gun, and a great deal more powerful, too. She held it properly in a two-handed grip, seeing the physical hammer that would revolve the heatsinks with each pull, the single/double-action magnetically boosting the round through the electromagnetic gates of the barrel at a speed almost two percent the speed of light. Sara knew that the Mammothkiller put out enough kinetic force more powerful that most high-end military rifles, even some sniper rifles! It could hit with well over three kiloJoules of force, shattering basic kinetic shielding and armor of some lower-end or cheaper armors. Even for some of the good stuff, it would likely snap the shields, leaving the wearer vulnerable for the next, and likely lethal, shot. Sara took the magnetic Kydex holster and attached it to her left hip, feeling the three kilogram weight of it, almost a comfort. "Looks good on you, Doc."

"Thanks." Sara fought the need to blush, and lost.

"Well, now that present-time is over." Auntie was rubbing her hands together, grinning. "Let's go have us some fun! Shooters!" The Lion smiled at the assembled team.

"Time to get your gat on."

* * *

Skipper insisted on a soundtrack, and the Angel rolled her eyes.

"Do I want to know?" Staff Sergeant Ashley Madeline Williams whispered to Petty Officer Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria folding her arms across her chest as she looked over to Ash with an exasperated look.

"Auntie has a sort of love fascination with early-21st Century pop culture." Sara replied, the Corpsman looking to the Lion of Elysium as the Skipper fiddled with her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool. "Movies, music, comic books… the works. Sometimes I think she had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century." That had the Colonial Soldier snort as 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko chuckle a little nearby. The SSV _Normandy's_ ground team was all there with the intent to work on tactics, teamwork, hand-and-arm signals, and improvising on-the-fly. There was also the incentive of _upgraded weaponry_ , as the several crates of TuffBoxes could attest to. Both Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay were huddled together, giggling over something showing on Tali's Armali Council Nexus OmniTool, while Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian stood sentinel near the back of the range, watching everything silently. Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka looked on with what Ash assumed was amusement while the large Krogan Urdnot Wrex was keenly eying the largest crate, probably a weapon meant for him. The Marines were still more-or-less playing grab-ass with one another, while their newest member, Doctor Liara T'soni, stood off to the side, quietly watching everything. "If I had to guess? _Awesome Mix Vol. 1_."

"Don't spoil!" The Skipper said as she looked up from her OmniTool, smiling. "And yes, it is my _Awesome Mix Vol. 1_. Firers? Grab your weapons and take your positions. We're doing the standard barrier drills and talking guns to some _real_ music, and not that shit Sara listens to."

"Don't knock my fuzion, Auntie." Sara growled as Williams just snickered as she grabbed her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun while Ryder hoisted her new custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon. The Soldier heard a fuzzy funk guitar riff begin to play, accompanied by a simple bass/bass drum combo, something that had her head nodding to the simple but catchy beat as the Marines finally stopped dicking around and everyone moved to the established firing lanes, holographic targets already placed. She could have sworn she knew the song from _somewhere_ , like from a movie or some such thing until the lyrics began. Then she recognized the classical tune.

" _Yaa-hee! Icky thump, who'da thunk?_

 _Sittin' drunk on a wagon to Mexico!_

 _Her hair, what a chump, and my head,_

 _Got a bump when I hit it on the radio!_

"Okay, I'll admit I do like _this_ song." The Corpsman said as Williams chuckled and raised her Reverent, using the weapons' optronic electronic Close Quarter Combat sight popping up, a single triangle to place rounds in the middle of the geometric shape. "The White Stripes do know how to lay down some good funk."

" _Red-haired seniorita, lookin' dead,_

 _Come to say "I need a bed" en Espanol!_

 _Gimme a drink of water, I'm gonna sing around the collar,_

 _Well, I don't need a microphone!"_

As soon as a sexy guitar refrain riff began, Captain Jane Shepard began firing her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, indicating for everyone to start as fifteen assault rifles drowned the range with their fire, a mixture of semi-automatic fire, burst-fire, and automatic fire began raining down on the man-shaped holographic targets. Ash kept her own fire into controlled bursts as she used her Light Machine Gun in a more accurate fashion, firing five-to-ten round bursts to keep the round within the target instead of having the weapons' muzzle climb and growing cone of accuracy. Her rounds peppered the target, not one landing outside of the targets' outline from fifty meters away; no mean feat for a weapon meant to suppress instead of being a point-target weapon. Years in the Army had made her a weapons expert, after all. She had seen some of the other weapons the others were carrying, and looked at the other targets to gauge how they were doing as well.

Captain Shepard was armed with her M-99 Saber, a deadly artist with her weapon, delivering head shots and chest shots like it was nobody's business. Petty Officer Ryder was learning her new weapon, the M-37 Falcon firing five-round bursts with a significant muzzle climb, but the Corpsman was able to put all five in the target, stitching it vertically. Lieutenant Alenko had a Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle, the Lancers' bigger, more powerful brother, firing it competently at his own target, decimating the chest area.

Detective Vakarian was armed with his tricked-out Rapid Response Unit-issued Elanus Risk Control Services' M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, putting three-round bursts that looked like just one large hole into the head every time. Agent Raeka had her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle in her hands, the heavy, slow three-shot burst firing a hefty muzzle climb that had the Agent aim low and angled the weapon slightly downward to compensate quite effectively. Doctor Liara T'soni was armed with an Asari-manufactured Meriz Weaponsmith LIN-4 Battle Rifle, putting single-round shots into her target with decent grouping, knowing her way around the weapon at least.

Urdnot Wrex had his Cipritine Armory Phaeston Heavy Assault firing in full burst, pouring down rounds as he laced his target full of holes, obviously going for totality. Specialist Zorah had a Turian-oriented Devlon Industries' M-14 Raptor Assault Rifle, the Hierarchy's main _Hasti_ Infantry weapon, and Ash was impressed to see the purple-clad Quarian putting down good shots with timed four-round shots. Her cousin, Specialist Raan, was armed with a Hydra Armaments' M-113 Drake Assault Rifle, switching different firing modes for different body parts; single shots for head and joints, five-round bursts for the chest and abdomen with the knock-off Vindicator.

The Marines had all been handed Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifle, a weapon usually seen in the hands of the bigger PMC's and merc organizations that could afford the pricey but effective weapon. It was a bigger, beefier version of the ERCS M-15 Vindicator, but came with more recoil and less shots per cooldown. Still, it was a good weapon to have in the hands of a dedicated shooter. Williams saw that most of the Marines were good on their targets, but only just that. One, Private Louis 'Brasserie' Broussard, had better grouping than the rest, his three-round bursts all in the center of the chest with little variation from one burst to the next. Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach, on the other hand? His target looked like it caught a lethal case of Chicken Pox, round placements everywhere. Well, every squad needed a Gunner, and better to hand it to someone who was more trigger squeeze than trigger pull.

"Talking gun!" The Skipper shouted over the din of gunfire.

" _Icky thump, with a lump in my throat,_

 _Grabbed my coat, and now it's reckon I was ready to go!_

 _Yeah, I swam by the hair, she had one white eye,_

 _One blank stare, lookin' up, lyin' there!"_

The talking gun was a Human-oriented tactic that involved maximum rounds upon a target while conserving on heat management. It began with the first firer firing one round or short burst, the second firer two rounds or a longer burst, and the third firer going back to the single round or short burst down the line, one after another quickly and accurately. The Skipper fired once, while Ryder fired a burst and a blast from her combo rifle/shotgun, as Ash fired a five round burst from her Reverent, and then Alenko firing two controlled four-round bursts from his Diamondback. And it continued down the line through all the Normandiers in less than ten seconds until it came back to the Skipper, who fired the longer burst pattern, rotating who fired short and long.

" _On a stand, in her hair, was a candy cane,_

 _Black rum, sugar cane, dry ice, somethin' strange!_

 _La la, la la la la la la la la la,_

 _Laaa laaa laaa!_

"Barrier drill!"

The next tactic was a singular target meant to strip defenses quickly and kill an opponent by putting two rounds or bursts into the chest and then one into the head in quick succession. It was created by the old LAPD SWAT to take down armed criminals and hostage-takers in a quick amount of time to avoid collateral damage. Even in the modern day and age, it was still a good fall back tactic to take out an individual, weakening shields and shocking them with a headshot to induce fear or hesitation if the round didn't penetrate the helmet. Ash fired two quick snap bursts to the chest, three-to-five round bursts followed by a three-to-five round burst to the range targets' head. Even with such a heavy weapon as the Reverent, its recoil, and the fact that it wasn't a precision weapon, Ash was happy to see that all of her rounds were not only on target, but in tight groups as well. Williams was amused to see that the Angel was putting two five-round bursts into the chest with her assault rifle selection, and then finishing it off with a shotgun blast to the head. That Falcon was a mean mother of a gun, that was for sure. Alenko was putting his rounds on target with finesse, while the Skipper was blazing wit that Saber of hers, firing a semi-automatic fast enough to make one guess that it might be a slot rate-of-fire triple shot weapon.

The others were doing the drill, Captain Shepard having sent everyone a quick YouTube video outlining seven basic Human firing drills, five basic Turian drills, and three Asari drills. The thought was that if they used tactics from difference species, the Geth would find them less predictable than if they stuck to the tactics of a singular species. Today they would drill on the basics until they were meshed seamlessly, able to blend the tactics from one to another in random sequence until it was without flaw. Tomorrow would be skirmishes, the next day small-unit tactics. They would increase the difficulty and the amount of targets until they could work together without flaw. Then they would move to other training modules. Urban combat techniques. Assault tactics. Boarding tactics.

" _Well, Americans, what, nothing better to do?_

 _Why don't you kick yourself out, you're an immigrant, too!_

 _Who's using who? What should we do?_

 _You can't be a pimp, and a prostitute too!_

" _Hastist_ suppression!"

Now every other firer was firing through the entirety of their heatsink as quickly as possible while the other half were paused, waiting for the go-order to fire themselves while the first iteration cooled down their weapons, keeping up full volumes of fire without pause with half a unit's worth of weapons. It was a Turian tactic that kept up a constant barrage of fire upon the enemy.

"Transition fire!"

The Human tactic called for the use of every weapon on the firer, to expend through the heatsink and switching to the next weapon to maximize volume of fire with all unit members by using all their assigned weapons, letting them previous weapons cool down as targets were eliminated. It allowed smaller Human units to fire fully without pause while cooling down weapons.

"Leadership decimation!"

The Huntress tactic called for every firer to take out anything considered a leadership role; to decimate unit morale and guidance. Several firers would engage each leadership-type unit, be it Commanding Officer, Medic, the most experienced person, or any other specialized units that could decimate the effectiveness of a unit. Asari were known for gutting units in a few seconds by taking out command elements.

"Whittle fire!"

The Human tactic eliminated the possibility of flanking by firing at 'outside' units and worked its way towards the interior of a unit's position, 'whittling' their strength down by shaving down their effective force from the outside in. It worked surprisingly well on Turians, and the Geth did work in numbers.

"Paint-by-numbers!"

This interesting tactic was actually invented by Sara's father in the First Contact War, then-Lieutenant Alec Clancy Ryder making it where everyone fired upon the same unit, designating them by a number scheme and then 'painting' them with rounds. Since almost no one could withstand a dozen or more firers engaging them at once, it worked well at decimating troop strength and morale.

"Flash suppression!"

A Commando tactic involving quick burst firing at multiple targets by aiming at a central target, then one to the left of the first, then right of the original, working further out to confuse and enemy as to whom was firing on them. The zig-zag pattern worked well as usually multiple firers were shooting at the same target from multiple directions, generally overcoming defenses.

" _Icky thump, handcuffed to a bunk,_

 _Robbed blind, looked around, and there was nobody else!_

 _Left alone, I hit myself with a stone,_

 _Went home and learned to clean up after myself!"_

"To the Spears!"

Another Turian tactic that involved striking at the heart of a unit, it was the opposite of whittle fire; it drove a wedge in a defense or a platoon and continued to drive that wedge wider to eliminate an enemy's strength. It was a sound tactic that Humans found hard to beat.

"Soak!"

A Hierarchy _Hastist_ Infantry tactic, it abandoned discipline for wild firing, a firer sweeping medium arcs of fire back and forth to rake enemy units quickly, and surprisingly effectively. It did well to bring down shields and keep exact positioning of unit members from being targeted from a full-unit barrage.

"Sprinkler!"

Another Human tactic based off an old lawn care maintenance device, the Sprinkler had a firer shoot a burst at three targets from left-to-right, and then sweep at full-auto from right to left. It allowed multiple engagements against a numerically-superior force while keeping concentrated firer to wear down shields and armor.

"Process of elimination!"

The Commando tactic had three firers engaging the same target, taking down a third of a unit quickly before moving onto the second and the third afterwards. Every tactic that the Skipper called out all had the same idea; to turn a small combat team into a very lethal fighting force capable of engaging superior numbers and eliminating the advantage. Captain Shepard set her OmniTool to call out a random tactic at a random time, ingraining each tactic until it was rote as bolts were locked back to cool down, spent ammo blocks were ejected and fresh ones inserted, range targets were refreshed again and again for hours.

Breaks were given as cramped hands and fingers were stretched and rested while lunch was catered right to the range. Ash noted that everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, a fair amount of talking across species lines. While Williams wasn't exactly the biggest fan of non-Humans, Therum had showed her something. A friend willing to stand with you in battle was someone to be considered worthy, to be given the benefit of the doubt. She wasn't exactly sure on the Krogan big game hunter yet, but the others had certainly joined on their own volition, and not one of them had spoke up about any doubts on the mission or any fears that they might have had. They were committed, and even after Therum and the loss of Private Holodansk, there was no sign of them wanting to quit or walk away.

"We need a story time." Captain Jane Shepard called out as they sat down for lunch, everyone having a choice in what to eat from the stocks of Arcturus Station, even the non-Humans. Ash was amused to see that the Quarian Pilgrims were eating from what appeared to be old-school toothpaste tubes, their food broken down, purified, and inserted into their respective EnviroSuits for consumption. Not for the first time, Williams kind of felt… sorry for them. "Nothing says 'break' like a bucket full of laughs."

"Sara promised me a gross one from her paramedic days." The Staff Sergeant spoke up, looking to the Angel of Illyeria, who was currently eating a grilled chicken plate with asparagus and baked potatoes. "The one with the Hanar and the Asari."

"Does it involve a bar?" Ballsack asked, getting the Marines to snicker as Detective Vakarian merely rolled his eyes behind his C-SEC RRU-issued Kuwashii Visor.

"No, it doesn't involve a bar." Sara scowled at Ash for a moment. "It was a call I had when I was fifteen, during my first year as an EMT." She took a drink of lemon-lime Tupari before continuing. "So… no shit…"

" _There I was…"_ The Skipper, Ash, Kaidan, Brasserie, Ballsack, K-Pop, the Kenyan, and Lapdance all said at the same time, knowing how a military story started.

"One day, on _Skybulance-37_ …"

* * *

 **Skybulance-37, Municipal Lane, Ringside, Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 24, 2178**

 _Emergency Medical Technician Sara Elaine Ryder sat in the 'hellhole' of the Skybulance, where the passing pressure would blow air into her face gently as the_ Shu'pari _-'57 Medical Vessel traveled down the Inner Tract and Ringside of the Kithoi Arm, patrolling the first eight kilometers as well as the Kithoi portion of the Upper, Mid, and Lower Ring of the Presidium. Sara loved the hellhole; it was the only time she had ever felt anything resembling wind in her life. She could look down upon the Arm, seeing the traffic traveling down the Public Lanes and Common Lanes, the buildings stuffed upon seemingly every available square meter of space that wasn't a walkway, the pedestrian paths teeming with life. Sara loved the view from above, another reason she sat in the hellhole._

 _She looked over to see her crew, the team of medics from different walks of life, professionals one and all. There was Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, a four-hundred plus old Asari Matron with light blue centurymarks upon her teal face, sitting in the command seat. There was Emergency Rescue Technician Jarvis Latarus, the Turian Firefighter/Rescue Force with Apies colonial markings upon his dark plates, buffing his talons. There was Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis, a Palaven-born female who had served as a Frontline Barber-Surgeon in the Hierarchy during her fifteen year obligation, continuing it as a Citizen. There was Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara, the exasperating Maiden who, while good at her profession, induced headaches and crestaches due to her snark. And then there was Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla, the Salarian male who was the on-board equipment expert. Their pilot, Flight Officer Kaius Contenus, a demon on the stick, flew a lazy patrol in the Municipal Lanes meant for C-SEC, Skybulances, and Official vehicles._

"Dispatch to Skybulance-37, come in. _"_

" _This is Skybulance-37, ready, willing, and able." Chief Talis spoke up into the vessels' intercom when the dispatcher alerted them. They were getting a call._

"Medical assistance required in Kithoi Arm, Ringside, 0400 Block, Lower Ward, Shoreside District. _" The voice of Helaia Kanavor spoke over the intercom, the female Turian Dispatcher unflappable and with a wicked sense of humor. "_ Panicky Maiden requesting assistance with Hanar Patient. Forwarding address. _"_

" _Call it." Asha spoke up first, a look of jubilant humor on her young Maiden face. "Sex."_

" _Must it always be about sex, Asha?" Alixa sighed, the Barber-Surgeon shaking her fringe. "It could have been a hover chair accident."_

" _Sex." Javis called out._

" _Sex." Meeska agreed, nodding his head._

" _Wait? Hanar dating outside their species? Is that considered okay for them? No Hanar Daddy protecting his little jellyfish girl with a shotgun?" Sara asked, looking to Chief Shayla._

" _For the most part it is acceptable, little one."_

" _Okay then. Sex." The fifteen-year old replied, trying to figure out how a prosaic Hanar might have gotten hurt while a Maiden occupied the same room. Sex. "Ten credits says misuse of bonding restraint, and Javis gets to rescue a Hanar out of handcuffs." Ryder started 'the game'._

" _Ten on strange reaction to lubricant, and Alixa gets to slather." Kevla countered immediately, his lipless mouth turning upwards._

" _Ten on hard melding, Hanar in a bliss coma. Meeska gets the readout" Javis smirked at Asha._

" _Wait, that's a thing?" Sara asked before realizing she really didn't want to know._

" _Ten on alibi." Asha threw out. "The Chief takes pictures of compromising position."_

" _Ten on misuse of appliance." Alixa folded her arms over her chest carapace. "Little Sara gets the win."_

" _Ten on something worse than just an Asari and a Hanar." Chief Talis winked towards Ryder. "Asha gets to pose with the debacle for evidence."_

" _Every one of you are incorrigible." Flight Officer Kaius Contenus growled from the pilot's seat as he gunned the Asari-manufactured_ Shu'pari _-'57 Medical Vessel to full speed, banking at a gut-churning angle as he flew the Skybulance to its destination. They arrived quickly thanks to Contenus' ludicrous need for speed, landing the Skybulance at the entrance of a mini-arcology named 'The Goddess's Rest', an obvious tenant building on the Lower Wards of Shoreside where one could look straight at Kithoi Lake from the main boulevard. Sara grabbed her Aid Bag and slung it over her shoulders as the Skybulance medics exited the craft and entered the building, filing through the doors and walking through the lobby and towards the turbolift bay. A lift came quickly as all six of them filed in, taking the turbolift up twenty stories to the nineteenth floor and exiting the left to head to the domicile in question. Chief Talis rang the request bell at the front door as they stood in the hallway when the door slid open to reveal a young Maiden, standing anxiously at the ingress._

" _CitEMS." Chief Shayla Talis identified themselves to the Maiden, who looked at them with wide aqua eyes, her face almost completely lacking any centurymarks. She was a hundred if she was a day, Sara thought. "You have an emergency?"_

" _Thank the Goddess that you are here!" The Maiden gushed, anxiety and panic evident in her voice. "I… I do not know what to do!"_

" _Let us in, and we can properly assess what it is that will be needed to be done." The Matron replied calmly, the voice of experience in a time of need. The Maiden nodded enthusiastically as she stepped to one side and everyone filed into the domicile, and Sara saw that she was entering into what appeared to be an Asari-oriented domicile; sea colors, Thessian motifs, airy appearance, a good deal of sculpted flora potted and placed with the thought towards harmony, and quite luxurious. No doubt Mommy Matriarch paid the rent, Sara thought snarkily as the Maiden led them nervously passed the living room and into one of the bedrooms where a Hanar laid upon the ground, a decisive green tinge to its normal pink luminescence._

" _M-myself and Shines-With-Brightness…" The young Asari began nervously, wringing her blue hands, "were… enjoying each others' company when things perhaps got a little… carried away." Her voice petered off at the end. Sara wasn't exactly sure what that entailed._

" _Ah." Trevalis perked up, the Barber-Surgeon's mandibles twitching slightly. "Was there perhaps an_ appliance _involved when things got… carried away?"_ Vrack _. Alixa was moving in on the kill._

" _I, ah, yes, madame." The Maiden's cheeks turned an even more brilliant blue compared to her sky-colored skin. Sara realized that the Asari was blushing. Something was embarrassing, but the young Human woman didn't know what. "The… object… became detached… and, oh Goddess." Asha was smirking broadly, as was Javis, while Meeska merely looked at the Maiden mutely, only a slight smile to his thin lips. "It is still in Shines-With-Brightness, and everything I tried made it… worse."_

" _What model are we talking about? And which port?" Shayla asked, the utter professional. Only she and Alixa had a straight face while Asha and Javis were grinning too broadly. Even Meeska looked rather amused. Sara just felt stupid for not knowing what they were talking about. Obviously, the poor Hanar had something in it. Some sort of… appliance?_

" _It is the Havershan Deluxe Full Attenuation Model XD." The Maiden replied sheepishly, blushing brilliantly once more. "And it is in the_ jal'share _."_

" _Well, that will make this less complicated." Shayla replied, looking pleased. Well, that was a good thing, right? "Barber-Surgeon? Please assist our Emergency Medical Technician for the procedure." It took Sara a moment to realize that meant her. Alixa had won the bet, and_ she _had been named as the lead. Why was Asha trying not to laugh?_

" _What equipment will I be needing?" Sara looked to Alixa, who merely looked at her. "And… what am I doing?" That last part was whispered._

" _Just a pair of bio-gloves." Ryder nodded as she dropped her bag onto the ground and pulled out of one of her quick-access pouches a pair of latex gloves for her hands. "And you'll be doing an extraction." 'Extraction' meant removal. But with no tools? That meant…_

… _an orifice. Something was lodged in an orifice, specifically an_ appliance _._

" _There's a sex toy stuck in its' bum, isn't there?"_

" _Yes, hatchling." The Turian replied as Asha and Javis snickered, obviously enjoying themselves. "Now be a good little Probie, kneel before the Hanar, and apply some lubrication to your bio-glove before you begin the procedure."_

 _Sara looked at the green-hued Hanar that laid on the ground as its cone-like 'face' twisted slightly to look at her._

" _This one is ready for the procedure, Human." The Hanar glowed/spoke, and Sara felt the blood drain from her face._

" _I think I could have done without hearing that."_

* * *

"No… fucking… way."

" 'Fraid so." Petty Officer Sara Ryder replied to Lapdance's comment, everyone listening rather attentively. Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams noted that the Skipper was nodding; obviously Captain Shepard knew of the story.

"But it gets worse."

" _And so it happened…"_ All the Humans coined in at the same time as the story continued.

* * *

 _Emergency Medical Technician Sara Ryder was kneeling by the laying Hanar as Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis stood behind her to 'assist' verbally. Sara had never really worked on a Hanar before, but this was a bit much. But it was also her job._

" _First," the Turian female advised, "put the Hanar into a relaxed position."_

" _Which is…?" Sara wasn't looking forward to getting a little more intimate knowledge with the aquatic species from Kahje._

" _From the rear, hatchling. With its' posterior elevated." Trevalis sounded amused with the advice. "I believe Humans call it… dog style?"_

" _D-Doggystyle." Sara corrected her, hating that she had done so automatically. She gulped as she did what she was asked to do, getting the Hanar into a position that was… rather revealing of the genitalia of the Hanar… both sets. Ryder tried to picture anything else in her mind save Hanar penis_ and _Hanar vagina. "So… this one?" She pointed at the vagina with a gloved hand._

" _Next one up, hatchling."_

 _Sara could feel the blood drain in her face. She had really hoped that she had been wrong about a sex toy being up the Hanar's bum._

" _So… what now?"_

" _Start digging." Trevalis replied, non-plussed._

" _Okay, you can do this." Sara whispered to herself as she winced, her gloved right hand slowly making its way towards the orifice in question. She shut her eyes tightly as she stuck two lubricated fingers into the Hanar's sphincter, her face scrunching up as she whispered_ eww, eww, eww, _as her fingers sank in easily to her knuckles. "I… ah… don't feel anything, Alixa." She looked to the Turian, who merely stood there with her arms crossed over her chest carapace._

" _Not deep enough."_

 _Sara felt the blood drain from her face. Again._

" _If it makes you feel any better," Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara spoke up, obviously amused, "the Havershan Model XD is probably thicker than your forearm, Youngling. The Hanar probably won't even notice."_

" _Oh_ Gawd _…" Sara felt a strong wave of nausea with that, even gagging a little. She winced once more as she pulled out her two fingers, pressed all her fingers into her thumb to make an inverted cone, and then pushed her way into the rectal orifice, her gloved hand slipping in rather easily. When she reached her knuckles, Sara squeaked a little as she pressed in further, her hand sinking in without much difficulty. When she reached the end of her glove, Sara wasn't sure if she was doing it correctly. "I… ah… don't feel anything yet."_

" _We were both quite enthusiastic." The young Maiden admitted sheepishly, blushing furiously. "When I tried to… um… remove it myself, I was perhaps… half of my forearm deep." Sara blanched at that as both Asha T'mara and Jarvis Latarus both tried hard not to chuckle._

" _You can do this, Sara." Alixa encouraged her, taking a knee beside the Human, her flanged voice soft but assured. "You have the skinniest arms, so thus will have the least difficult time and cause the least amount of discomfort for the patient." Sara looked to Trevalis' plated face and nodded, the talk actually helping. All that the Barber-Surgeon had said was true; she was the best choice. Ryder bit her lower lip as her wrist disappeared into the Hanar, and then her forearm, too. "You are doing well, little one. Just keep searching until you find something solid."_

" _Oh God, oh God, oh God…" Sara whispered as her face contorted with disgust as her arm went further in until she felt… something! "I… I think I found it!" She said with wonder, her fingertips finding something that_ wasn't _organic. "I… almost got it!" She concentrated as her fingers opened up to find the shape of the object, trying to work around the object without pushing it further in. "I do got it! It's… really slimy." Sara winced as she tried not to imagine that she had_ opened _her hand_ inside _an aliens' bum to grab something and_ pull _it out. She had a firm grip on the object, and she began pulling it out, feeling it sliding out with her arm. "Almost… there…"_

 _Her hand, and the object, popped out, and Sara got a good look at the device in question._

" _OH MY FRIGGEN GOD!" Sara shrieked as she flung the Havershan Deluxe Full Attenuation Model XD that she had been holding by the base, the cylindrical object landing on the bedroom floor in front of Chief Shayla Talis, writhing and squirming. Chief Talis merely looked down at the object in question, clearly amused. Sara stared at the object, realizing that Asha was right; it was both longer and thicker than her forearm. "What the_ heck _is that!"_

" _That would be an Elcor phallic prosthesis." The Asari Chief replied, a lopsided smile on her face as she looked at Sara. "Apparently, it wiggles, too."_

 _Sara stared at her in horror. And then she retched all over the floor._

* * *

"BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The roar of Urdnot Wrex's laughter rang out through the range as most everyone else was either chuckling or snickering. Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams had no issue laughing out loud herself, seeing Petty Officer Sara Ryder's face twisted at the memory, a half-smile on her face as she shook her head. Even the Skipper was smiling, though it was obvious she knew of it from before. Ash briefly wondered if that had been a story for the dinner table at the Ryder household. No, likely not.

"Well, all those old tropes about alien anal probing back in the day, Doc gets to have revenge." Ballsack announced as Lapdance snickered out loud, while Brassiere smacked Balsach upside the head. "What? It's not like you ever hear a story where a chick is _giving_ anal!"

"Bra? Again." Sara said, no tone in her voice whatsoever.

"Ow!"

That had everyone laughing again.

"So that's my story." Sara Ryder said.

" _And I'm sticking to it!"_

* * *

Author's Note: NSFW, the next portion will involve a LI-esque escapade involving a bar, a Marine, and a female in a consensual manner. Actually, I got creative with this. Some of you who like romancing Engineers might cry at this possibility. Enjoy.

* * *

 **Temporary Troop Building 32, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 28, 2183**

Ten days of non-stop training. Ten days of ranges and simulators. Fourteen hours for each day. The basics. Advanced techniques. Blending different military thought from several different species into a unique paradigm of tactics, training, and procedures. The fifteen ground team members of the newly-minted TEAM LION had just ended the rigorous session with a grueling twelve-hour simulated mission involving one of the most brutal operations in the known galaxy; a hold-out mission involving the Turian Hierarchy defending a Salarian STG Team delivering the Genophage to the Tuchanka Shroud from no less than five Krogan warbands.

The simulation had most of its safety protocols disabled while its difficulty setting had actually been coded to be more difficult than the maximum setting; the Lion herself had called it 'Ultraviolence'. Hundreds of holographically-replicated Krogan warriors had been populated onto a battlefield in which TEAM LION had to defend the entrance to the Shroud Complex in brutal combat against the toughest species in the galaxy in what was known to be one of the most difficult missions ever. The ground team had trained hard, many of them already elite combatants in their own right, made deadlier through the use of teamwork, tactics, communications, and the Almighty firearm. The training, the sweat, the sore muscles and aching limbs had paid off as the twelve-hour mission had been completed, the warbands destroyed and the mission declared a success. It was as close to as the real thing as could be crafted to prepare Captain Jane Shepard and her team for the coming days when they would engage the Geth.

Ten days of brutal training… and now a night off on their own.

"Whoo! Par-tee!" Private Nathanial Balsach called out as he fist-pumped the air, dressed in civilian-oriented clothes meant for young men with the thought of a night making ill-advised decisions. With him was PFC Holland Hoss and Private Louis Broussard, both of them dressed with the intent of going to a bar and picking up girls. Louis looked to his idiotic friend, hoping that Ballsack wouldn't end up in a brig. Again. "Gonna go honey-huntin' tonight! Anything less than an eight is unacceptable."

"Is that with the beer goggles on, Ballsack?" Doc asked, standing a couple meters away as she talked to the Skipper, the redheaded Captain and their Doc also dressed for a night out on the Arc. It was hard not to stare at his superiors. Doc was wearing a black turtleneck shoulderless top that certainly conformed to her curves with a pair of slacks that made a man's mouth water. That was just Goddamn unfair. The Captain wasn't much better, wearing a body-hugging fire engine red spaghetti-strap top that showed skin in all the right places, and a pair of hip-hugging capri pants that were _very_ accentuating. It was like window-shopping in an expensive store where one was too afraid to touch anything out of fear of breaking something one _couldn't_ afford to pay. Staff Sergeant Williams was entering the Troop Area, and she had dolled up, too, wearing a blue blouse that hugged every centimeter of her athletic torso, and a pair of black slacks that did wonders to her… no, stop looking.

Window-shopping. Expensive store. Can't afford it.

 _Mon Dieu_ , totally unfair.

"Poor Uncle Steven is going to be getting some unexpected reinforcements in about nine months or so." The Skipper added, making the Staff Sergeant chuckle as Ballsack just grinned, failing utterly at realizing that the joke was on _him_. Nate was a good guy and a good friend, the kind that would give you the shirt off his back. He just required… someone else to do the heavy thinking for him. "Alright! For everyone going on Liberty," there were about three dozen that the statement applied to, many of the Sailors opting for _sleep_ as a totally acceptable option, "Report back at 0900 for light duty rotation and be prepared to take a look at the new-and-improved _Normandy_ at 1000 tomorrow, with a ship-out time of 1400. No brigs, no emergency room visits, and no punctuality issues. If you do, you will not be liking the rest of your life. Are we clear?"

" _Aye aye, ma'am!_ " Everyone announced loudly and together.

"Good! To the _Dionysus_ where first round is on me!" Ballsack whooped at that, and Bra had to admit that Captain Shepard was an awesome Commanding Officer. She cared about the mission, she cared about her men, and she was absolutely without mercy towards the enemy. Just like a CO should be. Most Marines knocked Navy for their laxness and laziness, but the Lion was in a category all of her own, the pinnacle of leadership and lethality. She was an N7, after all. And a Council SPECTRE.

Sometimes, Louis couldn't believe his luck.

The Dionysus was the club of Mid-Hub on the Arc, the 'other' bar that wasn't the Non-Com Club meant for Non-Commissioned Officers in the Navy or Marines. More oriented for civilians (and military personnel who wanted to let their hair down, so to speak), Dionysus was privately-owned and updated to current flavors and standards, playing popular Human music and hosting many beers, liquors, mixed drinks, and bar-oriented games. Bra had been there twice, and the Dionysus was a fine club in which the female population outnumbered the male population (which was perfectly fine with him), the drinks were reasonably-priced, and the dance floor was never empty. He hoped that he would be successful in finding pleasurable female companionship for the night himself. After a couple months on Therum, the loss of Red Platoon, the Wake, and the brutal training week, he could use a night of regrettable awesomeness. While he wasn't a walking hard-on with a pulse like Ballsack (really, most Marines, to be honest), the death of his friend Mikael Holodansk had struck a nerve. Blowjob had been his bunkmate in Boot, his partner-in-crime during Passes, almost like a real brother to him. The Wake had been a hard goodbye, and he knew that Doc took Blowjob's loss just as hard as he did; no Doc wanted to lose their Marines.

Dionysus was busy with the nighttime crowds attending the popular club, just on the shy side of crowded, but more than healthily populated. The Marine Private had to wind his way through the crowd of Humans, both civilian and civilian-clad military, just to reach the full-length bar with at least half-a-dozen bartenders working the synthwood counter to have orders served as readily as possible. A good portion of the SSV _Normandy's_ crew was present to take advantage of the free first round offer as Louis approached the bar, and surprised to see a blue-clad figure who was covered from _reilk_ -to-double toes standing at the bar as well. He never would have guessed that Niki'Raan nar Tombay would be at a Human bar.

"Niki! Ordering anything good?" Broussard asked the EnviroSuit-clad Quarian Pilgrim as he stepped next to her at the bar, raising his voice to be heard over the din of voices and dance/pop playing over the club's sound system, the bass thumping to a popular dance mix.

" _I can't get any of these_ bosh'tets _to even_ look _at me!"_ The Quarian woman replied, her tone venomous as her blue-tinted visor turned towards him, her vocalizer blinking with her words as her veiled silvery eyes were shrewdly narrowed at him. That had the Private wince. Being in a Human-populated bar on a Systems Alliance Military Station? Yeah, he wished he could say he was surprised at that.

"Garçon _!"_ Broussard shouted as loudly as he could, as only a Marine could, getting the attention of a blond female server in a tight white blouse with more than a few of the upper buttons undone to reveal and emphasize her pressed upward, inward, and together cleavage. "Get me an AMF and a…" He looked to Niki.

"Banarlus _with a shotglass of_ Haxvanar _dropped to the bottom_." The Pilgrim replied tentatively, obviously realizing what Louis was doing.

"… a Turian Car Bomb." The Marine indicated to the blond server, who scowled slightly at the sight of a Human ordering a drink for an alien before turning to do so. Well, fuck her. "Keep an eye on that one and make sure she uses the right drinks."

" _The right drinks, or the right chiliary?"_ The blue-suited Quarian asked, her tone filled with scorn. Louis knew it wasn't aimed at him.

"Yes."

" _I'm Quarian. That's what we do anyhow whenever another species is serving us anything from food to items."_ He winced at that, not having realized that something like that would be the case. He probably should have, considering the general fell reputation that the Quarians had amongst the others in the galaxy. Okay, so the Quarian race had fucked up. Seriously… whose hadn't?

"That's bullshit." Louis philosophized simply as he kept an eye on the blond server, making sure that both his drink and Niki's were made properly. "That's just the opinion of petty, simple-minded motherfuckers who evidently can't think for themselves." The veiled silvery eyes widened from behind the blued visor, studying him for a moment as Louis kept his eye on their drinks. Hell, now that he thought about it, it was a good idea for any woman to keep an eye on their drink.

" _You… you really think so?"_ The Quarian's tone was curious, her head tilting slightly to the right. _"I mean… you don't care?"_

"I grew up in Elysium." Broussard explained simply, but saw that the location of his birth planet didn't actually mean anything to Niki like it would have to a Human. "Ah. Elysium's population is… close to half non-Human. It's more diverse than any other locations in Earth Alliance Space. So… I grew up with more than just Humans around." He shrugged his shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the galaxy for him. Honestly, it was. Like Doc, he was raised in a place where the inclusion of others was just the way things were. Not having non-Humans around was sometimes weird for him. "Never really understood it, y'know? Not even a hundred percent how it's the Quarians fault, actually. You built robotic labor like everyone else in the galaxy, and you gave them limited intelligence like everyone else in the galaxy. They evolved on their own… so how is it you're to blame?" The drinks came, and Louis was satisfied that the server had done it properly, having kept an eye on her the whole time. He raised his Aldrin Lab's Bluewire OmniTool and scanned his EID to pay for the drinks as he took both glasses and handed Niki's to her like a gentleman should. "My guess? The dickhead Council species are just grateful it happened to you first instead of them. Shitting on the little guy, if you ask me."

Niki held her Turian Car Bomb in both three-fingered hands, but just stared at him for a long moment.

" _Can… can we get a table together?"_ The Pilgrim asked, her words rushed slightly. _"I was going to try and sit with one of our team members because I trust one of us while I'm here, and I would like that to be you."_

"Sure, not a problem." Broussard understood what Raan was saying. She was a Quarian and a woman in a Human bar; she wanted to feel safe, and she was picking _him_ to help with that. That was pretty cool, actually. "Finding an empty table might be a chore, though."

" _No worries. Once I sit down somewhere, I don't doubt I'll clear it."_ There was bitterness and resignation in her vox's tone, and the Marine wished he could say that she might be wrong, but he knew better. Still, he knew the right thing to do for any woman feeling down about something.

He took her by her three-fingered hand and held it within his own.

"Let's go find that table." The Private said with a smile, giving her an encouraging wink as he moved to where the tables were located in the back portion of Dionysus, threading his way through the crowds with Niki in two, holding her had as he made their way towards a promising prospect; there was a table where a man with a military-styled high-and-tight was leading a woman away in hand, either to dance or go someplace less populated. Louis took advantage of the situation by claiming the table, setting down his AMF first before grabbing an available chair and holding it out for the Pilgrim. She looked at what he was doing curiously.

"A man is suppose to pull out a chair to seat a lady." He explained to her, getting an ' _ahhh_ ' from her vox as the customary courtesy was identified and Niki'Raan took to the chair, tucking her legs under the seat to compensate for her digitigrade legs, her longer feet and higher heels meaning she couldn't place her toes in front of her comfortably. So her toes went under her so that her knees were only slightly elevated. Broussard assumed Quarian-manufactured chairs were likely shaped differently or stood taller. He scooted the chair closer to the table once Raan figured out what he was doing, thanking him politely as he sat down next to her. He was amused to see her pull out from one of her 'Suit pouches a sort of high-tech straw; it had a box-like apparatus near the top, about the size of a die. He knew what it was without being told; a purifier. Niki stuck the straw in her drink and connected the top to a detachable tubing from near her helmet; a drinking apparatus. She connected the tubing to the straw. Well, that was handy, if a little odd to see someone drinking liquor out of a tube. He wasn't going to knock it, though.

"If you were worried about how you might be treated, why did you come to a Human bar?" Broussard asked the Quarian, seeing her drink get a little lower without a sound being made.

" _A part of a Pilgrimage is to experience life outside the Flotilla."_ Her vox replied, Niki's blue-tinted visor looking right at him as they talked over the music. _"It likely affirms to us that we are on our own, but it also teaches us how to be self-efficient as well as being a lesson on how to adapt to a number of situations and scenarios. You never know what you might face, so it teaches us a little about ourself without the security of the Race and the Flotilla to rely upon. Plus I wanted a drink after that grueling week!"_ That had the Marine laugh.

"Totally agree with you on that one." Louis hoisted his own glass and drank a little of his AMF. Now he was wishing he had gotten something a little lighter in alcohol. "I've never had a training module that tough, that intense, or that exhausting. Almost opted for sleep, but I thought I'd reward myself." The Skipper had put in the paperwork to have the Marines from 1B3/7 MAR permanently relocated to the SSV _Normandy_ the day they arrived on the Arc, and it had been approved of later that day; record time, Louis figured. Doc and Staff Sergeant both mentioned to him that he should be expecting a promotion at the first of the month thanks to his firing abilities and general lack of idiocy. He deserved a little reward, especially with them shipping out the next day. To the Cit, of all places. Broussard found himself talking to Niki, only sipping his AMF instead of drinking it or chugging it.

Louis honestly lost track of time as he talked to Niki, finding himself having a great time with her. Niki'Raan had her obvious difference, a Quarian being raised on the Migrant Fleet, but she had likes and dislikes, dreams and dedications. He found her to be smart, sassy, very much into guns (she did want to be a Migrant Fleet Marine), and looking forward to creating new ways to destroy the Geth. He even surprised her by pulling her out on the dance floor when a catchy dance tune came on, the electrodubpop song dropping pulsing beats and minimalist on other instruments as a Human female vocalist sang in a haunting tone as Louis taught the Quarian how to dance with a Human (generally club grinding) while she returned the favor during the next drop beat song, showing him how Quarians danced. The two of them accidentally bumped into Doc Ryder on the dance floor, the Corpsman giving them both an appraising look and a smile in the darklight of the club as a synthwave song came on next, Broussard dancing with the Pilgrim in front of him, her back pressed into his chest as she grinded her hips into his, evidently quite liking doing Human club grinding. Louis wasn't complaining either, his hands on her exaggerated hips, getting over the awkwardness of dancing with a girl with digitigrade legs and heels up near her calves pretty quickly.

" _Let's go somewhere."_

'Somewhere' ended up being back in the Troop Building reserved for the Normandiers ten minutes, Niki'Raan practically pushing the Marine into a room as he backpedaled into a wall, the Quarian pressing herself against him, her three-fingered hands upon his chest, massaging them with the pads of her thick fingers. It was a little strange, but not unpleasant.

" _I want to show you something."_ Louis mumbled an agreement as he watched Raan dial something on her suit before pulling back her _rielk_ to show a composite weave full head covering with an apparatus going up along the neck and over the crown of her skull, which looked a little longer than a Human's. Much to his shock, she tapped something else and saw her _face plate_ detach, pushing out and sliding upward from the sealed frame that surrounded her face. Broussard was almost mortified at the thought… until he saw the slightest blue tint over the exposed portion, indicating a Kiggs atmospheric ionization field. Of course Quarians would have figured something like that out after all this time! Hell, back-up atmospheric barriers were standard on military-oriented helmets in case visors were cracked or breeched!

The Marine found himself looking upon Niki'Raan's exposed face, and looking at it in wonder and awe.

He had no idea what Quarians were suppose to look like, and was shocked to see that they were… well, quite humanoid, very similar to Humans and Asari, in fact! Her facial structure was remarkably similar in shape with her forehead and nose, though her cheekbones were a little more pronounced and her nostrils didn't curve inward at the crelons, instead sloping a little more towards the cheeks. Her lips were remarkably similar as well, though there was a split at the middle of the upper lip, like a cat's though not as pronounced. Her skin was easily the biggest difference, the color of light lavender with a tint of gray in it. Her eyes were, unsurprisingly, luminescent and silver, with white speckled motes where the pupils would be. She didn't have eyebrows, and he couldn't see if she had any hair thanks to the head covering and the face-frame that kept her environmentally sealed.

"God… you're beautiful." Louis was utterly amazed. He was seeing his first Quarian, really seeing one, and she was utterly gorgeous. Her face just had that cherubic cuteness to it that was both adorable and appealing, and the minor differences between Quarian and Human made it wonderfully exotic, not a deterrent. He he always figured that Quarians might have looked a bit like Turians, being dextro and all, but he was shocked to see that they were very similar to Humans and Asari in appearance. Niki smiled at him, and Louis saw that her teeth were narrower than a Humans, and the canines were a bit longer and pointier than the others, almost exactly like a felines. The canines dimpled her full lower lip slightly, and it was actually pretty cute. "Is kissing possible?" The Marine wanted to know what her lips felt like.

"Yes. The field is malleable to a certain degree." Broussard could hear her natural voice, accented and throaty. He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against Niki's, pleasantly surprised that he could actually feel her skin. Evidently, the Kiggs field was thin enough for sensation to pass through, but not so permeable that possible contagions could. Her lips were soft and pleasant, and he felt her three-fingered hands slipping into his own as they stood closer, their bodies gently pressing into one another's. One kiss led to another, and he became aware of a low… purring noise. Was Niki purring? If that were the case, then he was obviously doing something right. She certainly wasn't pushing him off. "You are good at kissing." The Quarian said as she pulled away, looking a little shy, her silvery eyes on him. "I was hoping you might be. What was that thing with your tongue? When you touched mine."

"French kissing. Did you like it?" Was that a Human-only thing?

"Very much." Louis found himself being pulled towards the center of the room until the back of his legs hit the bed placed in the middle and he fell upon it. He saw that he didn't need to bother getting back up as Niki'Raan mounted the bed above him, crawling over him in a very feline-like fashion. The Quarian laid upon him, her body pressing into his own, and thought went away as he got lost in the moment, wrapping his arms around the Pilgrim's lithe body as she became a willing and active participant. Broussard found himself very thankful that he kept it to just one AMF, and kept it slow at that, being able to enjoy what was happening with a more clear mind. To say that he was absolutely horny as fuck was being modest; the way Niki was gyrating on him was making him absolutely nuts.

"Can you remove your leggings? I don't know how to work Human pants." The Pilgrim asked him, her tone almost pleading. The Marine almost gaped at the request, but it certainly didn't stop him from fulfilling it, his hands going to the clasp of his jeans, undoing them quickly and shuffling them and his undergarments down past his hips and halfway down his thighs. Niki sat up at his lap and looked. Yep, she was certainly checking him out.

"You certainly are built for success." Her tone was quite amused, giving him a suggestive smile. Well, that was encouraging. And quite leading to a realization.

 _Oh my God, I think I'm about to have sex with a Quarian!_

"I… ah… don't know what to do next." Broussard admitted lamely, feeling pretty shitty doing so. Niki'Raan was in a full EnviroSuit, and he had no idea how this was suppose to work out. "I don't want you getting hurt or sick or…"

"Don't worry, Louis." The Pilgrim assure him as she positioned herself in what he assumed was a more appropriate manner, placing her crotch right on top of his own. He could almost feel the warmth radiating out of it, and oh God he was so fucking horny. "We have a monomolecular elastic barrier that prevents any contaminates from entering during sexual intercourse integrated into our suits."

"You have a built-in condom." Of course! It was unreasonable to think that after three hundred years or so, the Quarian race wouldn't have thought up of _something_. If they had to spend half their lives as virgins and only looked forward to having sex with exactly one partner a few times in their life, the Migrant Fleet probably would have committed suicide-by-Geth long ago trying to win back Rannoch out of sexual frustration alone! "Whoever invented that should be rightfully worshiped as a God." Broussard claimed, believing every word.

"Indeed." Niki smiled, her cute little canine fangs making it all the more adorable. "Care to test the soundproofing of this room?" The Pilgrim asked with a smirk as she slipped a hand down towards his crotch, and Louis found himself being guided towards the right spot for a Quarian.

His last non-sexual thought was that he really hoped the soundproofing was quite good. Because he fully intended to defeat it.

* * *

Author's Notes: So I went all out for a Fight Fest and some fun for you. Because fluff chapters aren't always about sex. But I had that as well. C'mon, don't look at me like I don't know what we do on weekend nights when we were teens and young adults. Not to mention what the Navy does on shore leave. You like the fluff.

Icky Thump - The White Stripes, off of their six and most recent album. I think it's about sex at first, but then again, Jack White makes about as much sense as Bob Dylan on a sobriety streak.

The M-37 Falcon - I'm sure most of you who played ME3 are saying that "the Falcon shot explosive rounds!" but _en_ _contrare_! The _first_ M-37 Falcon was seen in Mass Effect: Infiltrator, in the hands of the Turian Prisoner once you beat the mobile game with Randall Ezno. The weapon was a rifle/shotgun that could switch back and forth for heat management, yet wasn't upgradeable (in fact, the Turian got no cookies whatsoever). The M-37 Falcon Infiltrator gets its day in the sun as Sara's main weapon. The weapon is based off the M-96 Mattock Auto from Infiltrator, as well as the M-22 Evicerator, combined. I went with the Mattock, upgraded it to full-auto, improved the heat sink, slapped a Katana on it, and gave it the 'overkill' option of a five-shot rifle/one-blast shotgun option. For fun.

The Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver - Anyone that's read Where The Law Stands Tall and its sequel A Fox Amongst The Wolves will recognize the big iron that Marshal Samantha Collins carried. The weapon is considered 'illegal' because it is a mass driver (electromagnetic gates instead of rails, like a coil gun), doesn't use Eezo, and has multiple heatsinks for a singular barrel (meaning the Falcon mentioned above is technically legal). It also has no software management suite, IFF protocols, and cannot be shutdown by police forces or SPECTREs, meaning it can fire at any time, doesn't change round size due to target variance, and can possibly put a hole through a hull. That's also illegal in the Treaty of Farixen/Citadel Conventions, and I do believe that some of this is mentioned in Canon somewhere.

'…the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century' is in fact an early-21st Century pop culture reference from the movie _Sin City_ , when Clive Owen's character Dwight described Mickey Rorke's character Marv.

Sara's story about the Hanar and Asari was actually from the _first_ Sara Ryder: Milky Way story I had written before it became an integral part of _Of Lions And Angels_ , known as "Firstborn", where Sara is an CitEMS paramedic on a Skybulance. If you've ever wondered why that portion of her life seems detailed for a side story or comment, that is why. There were about seven concepts before I made _OLaA_ , different portions being used. The Krogan fight with Sara actually comes with another, "Anything's Possible!", Sara's education comes from "My Binary Star", and Sara being on Elysium during the attack (and subsequently meeting Shepard) comes from "The Lion And The Angel". The other three stories ( "Daddy's Little Girl", "Citadel Blues", and "The Embassy Intern") all have small inserts, but are mostly left unused save for what will come to be known as The Red Harvest from "Citadel Blues" later on in this story. Sara dating an alien comes from "Daddy's Little Girl", though she dates a male Turian (and all that encompasses) and is only sparsely mentioned. Likely, "The Embassy Intern" won't be brought up as Sara works as an Intern in the Human Embassy during 2181-2185 as a college intern for a PoliSci degree in UCit, working under Ambassador/Councilor Donnel Udina. The only credible mention of that story is Sara's nickname for Udina; Dumbassador.

Hanar… genitalia? Canon from the first Mass Effect suggested that Hanar were actually a _three_ -gendered species, but I think it was retconn'ed later on (there was a fair bit removed/dropped, but you might be able to find it in the actual Game Codex itself). There's really only two ways to have a third gender; neither… or both. I went the hermaphrodite route for the third gender. I do believe that there are some aquatic species on Earth that are self-propagating (meaning they produce both the seed and germ for procreation, like many plants can) so this isn't complete fiction. Likewise, some amphibians (frogs and a few others) can switch genders if needed.

AMF - Adios Motherfucker - The cousin of the Long Island Ice Tear, the AMF is a pint of ice with Vodka, Gin, Tequila, White Rum, Blue Caracao, Sweet and Sour, and a splash of 7-Up in a glass. It isn't a sipping whiskey. Meant for the causal alcoholic, partier, and a night full of questionable decisions made (and waking up in strange locations with regrettable partners).

Turian Car Bomb - The Dextro version of the Irish Car Bomb, which is a pint of Guinness with a shotglass of Jameson or Bush Mills along with Bailey's Irish Creme dropped into the bottom. The traditional St. Patrick's Day cocktail. For the Turian version, it's called _Meritocide_ ; guaranteed to fuck up whatever level of Citizenship you happen to be in in the Hierarchy Meritocracy. Created in "My Binary Star" and shipped on over here because it was too funny to pass up.

Big Canon Change - I know some of you are likely probably ready to rip my tongue out and beat me to death with it with the canon change to the Quarian's EnviroSuit. Some of you are probably thinking _Of Course!_ at the fact that after three hundred years, the Quarians would have obviously thought up of _something_. Yes, the Shadow Broker files do reveal that Tali has a NerveStim program that works as some sort of device for sexual relief. But this could be easily be considered as _Tali's_ method, not really wishing to have sex with aliens as she is the only Quarian on board the _Normandy_ and _Normandy-2_. Joker has an atmospheric barrier helmet during the attack of the _Normandy_ , meaning the possibility of an 'air bubble' can exist, and emergency Kiggs Fields are pretty commonplace in Sci-Fi media (under a variety of names), so at the least the _concept_ is there, if never introduced.

Yes, Niki looks a little different than what that _ONE PICTURE_ suggests. BioWare really screwed the pooch on that one. I would have done the reveal on Rannoch, after the liberation, when Tali unmasks herself, full-face and a few seconds worth of time with a fade out at the end. A bad Photoshop effort at a bad angle with a powerful glare in it was just… who the hell thought that was a good idea? Ugh.

So my Quarians are slightly felinoid, as Asari are aquatic, Turians avian, Salarians amphibious, Elcor pachyderm, Hanar invertebrate, and Humans primate. Not too much, just a hint of it. We're not going furry here, after all.


	15. End Of Watch, V

_Here! Look! A shiny DLC for you to spend your money on! Thanks, BioWare! :-p_

 **Cargo Bay, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 29, 2183**

Author's Note: Today (5/20) I turn 36. I got you a shiny present; a new chapter to enjoy!

* * *

Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the Cargo Bay as the last of the supplies and equipment were loaded onto the Frigate, _teams_ of Sailors moving back and forth with provisions, parts, components, armor, weapons, crates, boxes, bundles, and everything seemingly made under Sol. Auntie hadn't been kidding when she said that she was pretty much getting everything _including_ the kitchen sink; the Galley now had a sink for the full compliment of CS-3 Navy chefs along with a steely-eyed Master Chef to make sure that meals were done right, proper, and on time. Sara had done a quick tour of the new and improved _Normandy_ , seeing the many upgrades, improvements, installs, and various integrations to make the Frigate that much better. Hell, they had gotten a SASOCOM-variant UT-40 _Liberty_ -Class Transportation Insertion Shuttle (" _Erica_ "), with upgraded twenty-five mike-mike MAC deck cannons that some poor Corvette was probably having to do without, as well as a double-set of eight-round HEAT missile pods affixed to the wing scoops for aerial deployment and air coverage. As Sara understood it, the ground team had faced a truly frightening mobile armored artillery walker the Quarians had coined an 'Armature' on the surface of Therum. If they had to face another one? They had a M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle and an armed UT-40 to take it out.

" _Petty Officer Ryder to report to CIC at this time. Petty Officer Ryder to report to CIC at this time."_ The M1C intercom VI announced over the speaker system in the Cargo Bay as Sara looked up to the ceiling at the announcement as it beeped with the end-of-transmission. She looked over to the ship's Supply Officer, 1st Lieutenant Dan Simmons having been given a manifest of the additional cargo and checking it off as it was loaded onto the _Normandy_ , Ryder keeping an eye on things while the Naval Officer paid attention to the paperwork detail while she kept an eye on the personnel.

"Looks like you're moving up in the world, Doc." Simmons coined, his eyes on he datapad in his hand as he checked off on item Alliance Stock Numbers and quantities, making sure everything matched. "No need to stick around for my benefit."

"Please. _Chiefs_ run the Navy." Sara said with a smile. "We just leave you the budgets and paperwork." Dan chuckled at that as he checked off another inventory spot. "You'd guys would probably plow us into a space anomaly if we weren't there to hold your hand to point you in the right direction."

"Can't spell 'lost' without the 'LT'?" The Supply Officer looked up from his datapad, giving her a smirk. That joke was probably as old as the invention of the word 'Leftenant'. But it never got old. "Wouldn't want us to FTL to a bar or anything."

"Hey, now! Let's not be too hasty, here!" That had the Quartermaster crack up as Sara bid him a quick farewell as she moved deeper into the Cargo Bay, heading towards the _Normandy's_ elevator, boarding the conveyance and hitting 'Gun Deck' as a destination, nodding at Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss as they stood Security by the elevator, armed with Hahne-Keder M500 Shotguns to make sure no unauthorized personnel tried accessing the ship.

Sara exited mid-deck and moved towards the staircase that would take her to the Command Deck, seeing a flurry of activity on the Bridge as she reached the upper deck, Sailors at their posts going over pre-flight checklists and systems management inspections to make sure that everything was running smooth and proper, identifying and addressing issues as they came up. They would be shipping out in a couple of hours, and Sara spied Commander Mark Vanderloo, the ships' new Executive Officer, prowling the Command Deck like a panther, making sure that everything was beyond standard. She might have still wanted to cock-punch him as hard as possible for all the shit he did to Auntie, but even Sara admitted that her _former_ Uncle Mark was a hardcore Commissioned Officer who was a tyrant on performance, forgoing policy and protocol in the name of efficiency and excellence.

"Chief Ryder." The XO said simply as he stalked towards her; his normal mode of movement while on duty. The man was known for sneaking up on a Sailor on a station to spy if they were doing their job right or dicking off. Screenwatchers lived in terror of Commander Vanderloo. Thank God she hadn't picked LADAR Technician or CyWarTech as a profession to fall under his scrutiny. "We have a meeting in the Ward Room in five mikes." Sara paused at that.

There were technically two Ward Rooms on the _Normandy_ , and generally just about every other Systems Alliance Navy vessel. One was usually coined the 'CeePoe' Room, or the Chief Petty Officers' Room; a room where the various Non-Coms could utilize for fitness reports of their subordinates, private dressing downs of substandard Sailors, and meetings in between the _real_ brains of the Navy. The other, generally just called the Ward Room, was of the exclusive use of the Commanding Officer, delegated as he or she saw fit, be it for their own personal use, or 'reserved' for a departmental meeting if needed. Normally, Officers used the Ward Room, and it was rare that a Non-Com would be seen in it.

"Heads up?" The Corpsman asked the XO, folding her arms across her chest, keeping her voice low as she spied Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly working on the Navigations Terminal, no doubt making sure that everything was updated and accurate.

"I think you're getting another hat to wear." Mark replied softly, and the phrase had Sara wonder. A 'hat' in the Navy meant having another job or duty, or in the case of Officers, likely meant one would be in charge of a Department outside of their own, or gained an additional departmental duties. Technically, Ryder had three hats; she was a Hospital Corpsman who worked in the Med Bay/Dispensary, she was also rated as a Surgeon's Aid, and she had the Fleet Marine Force Hospital Corpsman Badge to identify her as a Combat Corpsman. While 'owning' multiple hats didn't gain one extra pay, it certainly looked quite good on ones' bi-annual Fitness Reports and certainly improved ones chances in things such as promotions and selections.

"Jane's been working on a few ideas before we head to the Cit, and I think you're the accumulation of one of them." Sara merely 'hmmm'ed at that, wondering what it could be about. With all the new personnel that the Navy had PCS'ed onto the SSV _Normandy_ , the Med Bay had certainly plussed up with three more Corpsman… though Sara remained the only FMF Insignia holder. Still, that gave her time to focus on training and improving, especially with xeno-medicine skills that had more-or-less had gone to pot with two years without any practical experience, training, or patients. There hadn't been anything of note on Therum, thankfully, but working as a CitEMS Paramedic on a Skybulance was not the same as being a xeno-nurse at Presidium General or CitU Hospital.

Sara entered the Ward Room at the proscribed time, finding the room to be filled with nine people, including herself. The table was set up with lunch in mind, and Ryder almost salivated at the sight of a cooked meal as oppose to Ready-Heats or UGRE's, seeing Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo served with a side of broccoli and mashed potatoes with sour cream and chives. By the fanciful way the CeramiGel-fabricated plates and glasses were crafted, and the more elegant appeal of the MetalGel-fabricated silverware looked, this was a semi-formal occasion. Sara knew what this was; the semi-formal, semi-relaxed luncheon that Auntie had every day with her Department Heads to go over the status and crew of the Frigate while getting facetime with everyone. She knew of this from both Auntie and Aunt Hannah Singer, Jannie's mother. The only other person in the room that wasn't a Commissioned Officer beside herself was a rated Culinary Specialist, Seaman Brad Switzer standing in the corner in shirtsleeve Class Whites. Ship's Steward, the Corpsman realized. Auntie went old-school with the luncheon, hearkening back to the days of wooden vessels where the Officers would dine together, holding themselves separate of the normal crew to impress upon their authority as well as being about to let their hair down a little when not around their men. Everyone was standing behind a chair that was pushed into the table, having yet to take a seat, and 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko tipped his head towards a seat to his left, indicating where she would be seating. Sara thanked him as she stood behind the chair, noting that one person had yet to arrive.

" _Attention on deck!_ " The Steward bellowed out as Captain Jane Catherine Shepard entered the Ward Room, everyone standing in the position of attention ramrod straight, knuckles to the hems, eyes facing forward as Humanity's First SPECTRE and Commanding Officer of the _Normandy_ breezed in.

"As you were." Auntie replied as she reached her seat at the head of the table, Switzer pulling out her chair (and her chair alone) to seat the N7, everyone else pulling out their own chairs once the Captain had taken hers. The Systems Alliance Navy had its traditions, some going back centuries, and Sara knew this was one of those time-honored traditions going back to the Age of Sails where men harnessed the power of wind with canvas and rope, where the ships were made of wood and sailors forged in iron and steel. No one touched their food or utensils until the Captain did so, and no one spoke until the Captain did so. Sara was more than a little honored to be included.

"Gentlemen," Auntie began, "I've read over the reviews of the trainers and mentors who put foot-to-ass to our crew to make sure that they were top-of-the-line, and I must say that I'm thoroughly impressed with the impressions that they gave. It looks like a vast majority of the crew stepped up to the challenge and used the opportunity to shine, which pleases me. Those who performed sub-par will be left behind on the docks of the Arc when we get underway. I'll forward those names, in which there are only five. Performance-wise, the next time we encounter the Geth? They're going to be facing off against the most elite Sailors _in the galaxy_." There was a good round of applause for that, in which Sara joined in without issue. "I've gotten a list of details pertaining to the _Normandy_ itself that includes all the upgrades, modifications, alterations, and enhancements that were identified and suggested, and I'm happy to report that the bugs and flaws have been ironed out. This ship is a technological marvel, and now it has the systems and equipment that matches. I wanted the best out of ship and crew, and I got it.

"A toast." Everyone lifted their filled glasses, and Sara was a little surprised to see that the glass was filled with port wine. "To the best damn crew a Captain could ever hope for."

" _To the Normandy!"_ Everyone sounded off, Ryder half-a-second behind the take, being her first time. The port wine wasn't a strong one, but it was flavorful as she took a polite sip.

"To other matters." Captain Shepard continued as she picked up her silverware, indicating that lunch would begin. Sara did her best to use the others as a guide on what and what not to do. Navy Boot had perhaps a one-day training module on formal events, but that had been two years prior. She was relying more on what she learned on the Cit thanks to her father's job in Diplomatic Security Services at the Human Embassy, having been to more than a few formal events on behalf of the Systems Alliance as the Pathfinder's daughter. "I have a list of promotions and assignments that I'll forward to their respective Departments before we head out, and there will be a formal promotion and award ceremony in the Cargo Bay tomorrow before we dock with the Cit. We should be at the Cit for at least three days unless something unforeseen happens. Chief?" Sara knew that meant her. "Do you happen to know an Agent Rix?"

"As in… Council Agent Avitus Rix? The Bladed Shadow?" Sara almost choked on her damn food at the name. Everyone was looking at her. Shit. "I've seen him in passing at a function or two," that was a mild way of putting some of the formal events that her father was required to attend, some purely for the SA, some for multi-species endeavors, "and I know of his reputation. Hell, any Turian worth his fringe knows that name and can probably tell you a few 'neither confirmed nor denied' stories that get pushed out to keep people properly fearful of a SPECTRE's wrath." How had Auntie know that name? "His mentor is the same as Agent Kryik's; Saren Arterius." Either the Wrath of Glory had told Auntie that name (unlikely), or… "Did he contact you?"

"Yes." Jannie replied, looking thoughtful. "He mentioned that he was a protege of Saren's, but was completely confounded by his mentors' actions. Evidently, he wants to meet because with Nihlus' death, I've literally received no instruction whatsoever when it comes to being a SPECTRE. You know more than I do." That wasn't to say that Sara was an expert; far from it! But Sara had lived on the Cit for eighteen years. Anyone living on the Cit for more than a couple of years got a pretty good basic understanding of the clandestine organization known as the Office of Special Tactics. It wasn't a secret that authorized 'leaks' of actions and advancements from 'anonymous inside sources' were meant to illustrate those who would dare defy the Council of Law or the Chamber of Governance that SPECTREs could (and would) reduce someone into a pile of molecular goo… even unnecessarily. The unofficial motto of the Office of Special Tactics was simple, effective, and abstractly terrifying once one thought about it; _Enforcement, Personified_. "I'm a SPECTRE, but I literally have no idea what I'm suppose to be doing. I want you there for that meeting, Chief. You literally rate as my only expert on that front."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Holy shit. She had seen SPECTREs in passing (they were pretty hard to miss), being the only sentients allowed to be fully armed and armored on the Cit save C-SEC and the Council's and Chamberlain's Threat Intervention Unit; the protective detail for the Council of Law and the Chamber of Governance. But to meet one? That wasn't Auntie? That was a league unto itself. "If it was Agent Kryik's task to teach you such things, but he was killed in the line of duty? Agent Rix may be fulfilling some of those duties out of obligation and for someone he saw as a comrade, even a brother."

"My thought as well." The Captain replied, nodding. "XO? While we're at the Cit, we will maintain double-watch, and limit passes. Taking Liberty on the Arc is one thing, but the Cit is a whole 'nother thing, and not our backyard."

"I'll look into scheduling and battle-buddy systems, and make sure each are supervised by a Chief." Commander Vanderloo promised. That was pretty standard for non-Alliance controlled ports. Mark eyed her for a moment. "Are you looking into delving what the Chief suggested several days ago?"

"Yes." Again, everyone looked to her. "Petty Officer Ryder, based upon several recommendations, suggestions, and recent events concerning the Geth, I feel that we're going to need another department that is centered towards the exploitation of technological combat-related advantages, while exploiting any we might be able to glean. This Department, called SCIENCE/TECHNOLOGY, or SciTech, will be responsible for gaining any kind of variable advantages our ground-team and weapons systems can get, be it from exotic locations, custom fabrication, networking through various liaisons, exploited on the battlefield, or anything else that can be used, made, purchased, or procured. What I noticed on Therum is that while the others did have some bells and whistles that were different and innovative, most everyone expressed the fact that _you_ came up with two unique pieces of technology _on your own_." Sara was pretty sure she knew where this would be going. "Your Tech Armor idea is something that others have tried and only reached minimal results, while yours seems to be just as advertised. Then you went an invented a Faraday Cage grenade that practically eliminated a Geth _Company_ by electronically decapitating the lead Alpha Prime unit and turning the rest into statues. Yes, you weren't alone in that endeavor, but the point is that you created, crafted, and collaborated something no one had ever made before in our time of need in a cave. With a box of scraps." Sara fought to roll her eyes at the _Iron Man_ reference.

"You will head this Department."

She was speechless.

"You can do it. Easily." Commander Mark Vanderloo said, giving her a nod. "I don't doubt you're the smartest person on this vessel, considering your education. I remember looking at one of your homework assignments out of curiosity to see what the toughest school in the galaxy threw at fifteen-year olds. Theoretical Physics that made my OmniTool commit suicide spitting out long-chain mathematical equations that could fill an aerogel wall solving one of them. I didn't even know what the hell was most of it meant. Toughest school in the galaxy." Mark nodded his head.

"What makes it tougher than the rest, if you don't mind me asking?" The Chief Engineer, 1st Lieutenant Gregory Adams asked, interested. Sara just smiled.

"They make you answer impossible questions." The Corpsman answered. "I was rated fifth in my Peerage for answering a three-hundred year old question with a plausible explanation that could theoretically answer it. You are granted Peerage for coming up with an answer that solves many variables, and only reach the top ten if it solves most variables. I spent four years learning what most do to earn their Doctorates in advanced curriculum, such as quantum physics and mechanics, astrological theory, Biotic theory, various space/time differentiating models, and anything involving hyper-level maths and sciences. I went and picked a classic; the P ≠ NP question." Sara wasn't surprised to see that most in the Ward Room had the so-called 'deer in the headlights' look, even if she had never seen a deer before. But Commander Vanderloo and Lieutenant Adams both perked up and looked at her. "Yes, I solved the Boolean Theory."

"Holy _shit_." Greg just… _stared_. In awe, at that.

"I feel like I'm back in math where the teacher just asked a question where I should know the answer, but I'm left fumbling in front of the class." The Chief Weapons Officer, Lieutenant (j.g.) Vanessa Steele said out loud, getting the Supply Officer, 1st Lieutenant Dan Simmons, to merely nod his head in agreement. "Is there… a layman's explanation where I don't feel like I got the brain of a turtle?" That had everyone in the Ward Room chuckling.

"Simply put? Real-time problem-solving done through various angles done in the same time as coming up with a proof. It's extremely important in quantum computing and theoretical mathematics." Sara replied, getting Vanessa to nod her head slowly.

"Is there… a Idiot's Guide somewhere to the dum-dum explanation she just gave me? I just shoot lasers for a living."

* * *

Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams sat in the main Galley, having taking a slow tour of the new-and-improved SSV _Normandy_ after its extensive refurbishment and upgrades. She now merited her own bunk (an Army standard not generally seen in the Navy) in the CPO Quarters for senior Non-Coms, and had access to the Chief's Galley and Chief's Room as befit her rank. The Navy had different ideas on privileges of rank, not necessarily bad ones. She certainly missed open-bay barracks and being able to walk outside whenever it suited her. Still, at least she was allowed to smoke her cigars. What was life without the little things?

She was currently holding a cup of Starbuck's-produced coffee, not that Godawful shit some asshole had dumped on board before, a real coffee maker in the Galley for those with a caffeine addiction to satisfy, and Ash wasn't about to let a good thing go to waste. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was coming into the Galley, about half-populated with off-duty and not-sleeping Sailors and one Marine, Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong doing a Sudoku puzzle on his OmniTool when the Corpsman sat beside her, datapad in one hand, scribbling notes with a stylus.

"Good meeting?" Williams asked Ryder, who was rather immersed with her work. Ash had to admit that the Sailor was about as dedicated as they came.

"Yeah. Got more dumped on my plate, but it's a good challenge." Sara turned from her work for a moment to smile at the Colonial Soldier, going back to her work. "Academy's paying off big time. Got a laundry list of tech, materials, and ideas to implement."

"Tech candy. Yum." The colony-born woman wished she had the mind to wrap around such things, but her upbringing had been a bit more prosaic on Sirona, the daughter of a Sailor and a Administrative Assistant. She had thought those endeavors a thing for geeks when she was a teenager. Now she was wishing she had been a bit less of a stupid cowboy. "I like my grenades loud and colorful."

"Ah, the Army response for everything; more boom." That had Williams chuckling slightly. "Ah! Detective, just the _Torin_ I was hoping to see." Ash looked up to see the Special Crimes Detective entering the Galley, working on his own datapad, investigating something. As she understood it, his normal day-to-day job involved investigating the high-and-mighty filth that had the money and means to make most evidence and witnesses disappear. "Grab a seat, there was something I wanted to ask you." Sara looked to Ash… and gave her a sly look. _Uh oh._

"Is there something you wished to address, Chief Ryder?" Ash had learned that Sara and Garrus Vakarian had run into each other once upon a Citadel ago a few years back. She didn't know the details, and neither one of them were talking. Evidently, it was bad juju.

"You finding things on the _Normandy_ to your liking? Everyone playing nice?"

"It is a different feel than a Hierarchy vessel, but I enjoy noting the comparisons and contrasts, seeing the different lines of thought in different species." Huh, as far as explanations went, that one wasn't bad at all. Williams wasn't a fan of Turians, though she grudgingly admitted that Detective Vakarian was worth giving the benefit of the doubt. He was a demon with that sniper rifle of his, to be sure. "Was there something you wished to know specifically?"

"Yes, there is." Sara was up to something, the Soldier could just feel it. She took another sip of her coffee and decided to watch. "Now I know you really haven't been around Humans that much, and you do try to be understanding. But something came to my attention that you might not know about. I felt it best to address it to you now that we have a moment."

"The issue being…?" Vakarian's tone was neutral, but his mandibles flagged slightly. Williams had no idea what that meant.

"You haven't been… caught alone with Auntie, have you?"

 _Wai… what?_

"No." Garrus replied, cocking his head to one side, surprised and confused.

"Oh, thank God!" Sara acted relieved, a little pantomimed, at that. "I don't think you know. Ash, you didn't tell him?"

"It… must have slipped my mind." Williams tried to recover herself, missing something here.

"What are we talking about?" The RRU Sniper didn't seem to keen on where this was going.

"She's a _Ginger_." Ryder announced, nodding her head as she folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her seat.

"Gingers eat _souls_."

 _Oh my fucking God… Sara is about to prank a fucking Turian sniper!_

"Shit, I completely forgot to tell him!" Ash set down her coffee cup and turned to the Turian across from her. Oh, this was so going to happen! "I'm sorry, Detective, but I'm so use to everyone knowing that Gingers are evil incarnate. It just… didn't occur to me, you know?"

Garrus looked at them, his mandibles drooping slightly. Was he buying it?

"She hasn't tried to chat you up in her personal quarters, or secret you to some location where there isn't anyone else around, has she?" Ryder asked, her tone completely concerned. Damn the girl could have been a thespian! "She only needs a moment and then _sssschlllup!_ " The noise effect seemed to make the Turian blink. "I mean, you've seen Lieutenant Alenko, right? Those adoring eyes, following like a puppy dog, always willing to serve." Sara just sighed, shaking her head. "He's her thrall, she got to him. Sucked his soul right out."

"Sucked it dry." Ash added in, for effect.

Garrus just looked to them, from one to another, his mandibles drooping more.

"But… you've known her for years." The Detective was on the case, and he had evidence.

"I had Scottie, and Scottie had me. Twins are like that." The Corpsman explained, shrugging her shoulders. "But make no mistake, evil incarnate."

"The very definition of evil."

"Don't let her convince you she's a Daywalker, either." Ryder warned him, and Williams had to bite back on a laugh. "Probably how she got to the LT, convincing him she isn't a true redhead. Poor sod."

" _Sssschlllup!"_ Ash had her fun in the sun with the sound effect. Garrus seemed… pretty disturbed.

"You… are making this up." The Special Crimes Detective pointed out, pointing a talon at Ryder. "One cannot suck a Spirit out of a body."

"K-Pop! What's a Ginger!" Sara called out, pulling the young Marine's attention away from his Sudoku from where he sat against a bulkhead.

"Evil incarnate, Doc." The Korean replied. "They eat souls." He went right back to his puzzle.

"Told you." Doc smirked, and Garrus looked to Sara, then to Ash, then back to Sara.

"There's even a song."

"There's a song?" Vakarian asked, still not quite buying it.

"There is?" Ash had never heard of a Ginger song.

"Oh yeah." Sara waved at the notion as if it were no big deal. "Now… who had… ah! Lapdance!" Private First Class Holland Hoss popped up from around the corner, looking a little surprised to hear his name. "Can I borrow your guitar? They've never heard the song before!"

"Um, what song is that, Doc?" Lapdance asked, obviously having come into the conversation too late to follow. Sara just smiled.

" _The Lion Went Down To Khar'shan._ "

About two-thirds of the Galley's population stopped what they were doing and looked right at Sara Ryder.

"I'll go get it!" Hoss called out, already moving before he finished his sentence as he went towards the Enlisted Quarters, coming back a moment later with a PlastiGel-crafted acoustic-body guitar with MetalGel-crafted strings and pegs. "Here you go, Doc." The PFC handed the musical instrument to the Corpsman, and Ash had a funny feeling that this was going to be hysterical. She watched as Sara plucked each string to test its tuning before smiling.

And she began to play.

Ashley immediately recognized the ancient tune, normally played on a viola, and rather fast at that. Watching her fingers on the fretboard as she plucked the strings at a rapid pace was amazing to watch as the song unfolded, most every Human immediately recognizing the tune made popular by Charlie Daniels. When the melody of the song began, she began to sing.

" _The Lion went down to Khar'shan,  
_ _She was looking for a slug to peel.  
_ _The Redhead was down in a funk,  
_ _(it was that time of month),  
_ _She just wanted to hear a Batarian squeal._

" _She came across a Batarian Overseer,  
_ _and slaves, he was whipping them hot.  
_ _The Lion jumped on him,  
_ _And landed with both feet,  
_ _And said, 'Slug, let me tell you what!'_

"' _I happen to be an N7,  
_ _(and a Council Agent, too).  
_ _And if you try,  
_ _you might die,  
_ _I'll rip the heart right out of you._

" _Now you might got four eyes,  
_ _But give a Ginger her due.  
_ _You've been told,  
_ _I'll eat your soul,  
_ _I know I'm better than you.'_

" _The Batarian begged, 'Please don't kill me,  
_ _I only do what I'm told.  
_ _I've heard the stories,  
_ _All blood and glory,  
_ _I don't want to be snapped in two-fold!'_

" _Batarians, begin your praying, and start running really hard,  
_ _Cause the Lions' loose in Khar'shan,  
_ _And she brought a bomb the size of Mars!  
_ _And if you win, you get to crawl back in your hole.  
_ _But if you lose? The Redhead eats your soul!"_

Sara began playing the fiddle part again as everyone began to cheer and clap in time with the song, Ash easily joining in. Oh dear God, it was all she could do not to bust up laughing. The scattered noises died down as Ryder reached the second verse.

" _The Lion set the Batarian on fire,  
_ _And said 'that's how I'll start this show,'  
_ _As fire flew from her OmniTool,  
_ _And she stocked up on explosive ammo._

" _She pulled from her back a big old shotgun,  
_ _And ratcheted with a loud clank.  
_ _The Redhead aimed right down the sights,  
_ _And blew a hole right through a tank!"_

There were several whoops of encouragement as Sara continued to play, her fingers dancing on the fretboard as she played the Devil's fiddle with a guitar, sweat beading on her forehead as both of her hands worked the guitar with speed and finesse. She reached the third refrain, and Ash was grinning from ear-to-ear.

" _When the Lion was finished,  
_ _A Batarian cried, 'please tell me that you're done!'  
_ _The Redhead smiled and pulled out a Cain  
_ _And said, 'now it's time for some fun!'_

" _Run little doggies, run Batarian run!  
_ _The Lions loose in the house of Khar'shan!  
_ _Armed to the teeth, the die is cast!  
_ _She won't stop until your planet is glass!"_

Sailors and Marines were clapping in time as Sara played the fiddle part once more before getting into the last stanza.

" _The Glorious One fell to his knees  
_ _And kissed the Redhead's feet.  
_ _He begged for his pitiful life  
_ _He knew that they'd been beat._

" _The Lion said, 'Batarian, don't beg,  
_ _I don't want to hear you cry!  
_ _I'm setting back evolution two million years,  
_ _I'm aiming for genocide!'_

" _Have you ever seen a slug run so fast?  
_ _Batarian bodies vaporized in a nuclear blast!  
_ _Don't you bother putting up a resistance!  
_ _Lion's gonna wipe you out of existence!"_

There were whoops and cheers of encouragement and excitement as Sara finished the song with the last refrain, ending with three strong strums to signified that she was finished, blowing out some breath as practically everyone applauded, a few whistling as the Corpsman waved at everyone, a shy smile on her face. Ash had to admit that the song was utterly hysterical, and wished she had recorded it.

" _It was that time of month?_ "

Everyone went silent and turned towards the Galley's entrance where stood Captain Jane Shepard, her arms folded across her chest, leaning back on one foot, hip slightly cocked, and a finger tapping on one bicep. Williams swore she could _hear_ Sara wince out loud as the Galley went silent.

"Girls will be girls… and all…" Doc lamely tried to cover for herself, the effort falling face-first onto the deck. She placed the guitar on the table in front of her.

"Is it true that Gingers eat souls?"

The Skipper looked at Detective Garrus Vakarian for a moment before her green eyes went back to Sara, narrowing dangerously.

"Oh, _s'kak_." The Corpsman muttered. "Gotta run. Literally." The Petty Officer bolted out of her seat and darted for the ships' food closet as the Skipper launched herself after her, vaulting the Galley table as Sara cried out _nonono!_ as she ran to the reefer closet with an N7 chasing her down. Ash was busting out laughing as Sara dived into the closet with the Skipper hot on her heels, the both of them entering into the cold storage room where _no! That tickles!_ and _Auntie!_ followed by a peal of girlish laughter that could be heard.

"Bet you never seen that on a Turian boat." Ash said admist Sara's distant laughter and her own chuckles.

"Humans are weird." Vakarian summarized, making Ash laugh even harder.

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder worked in the Cargo Bay, her Watch being on the Morning Watch, the Afternoon Watch in place as she sat by the weapons bench at the aft of the Cargo Bay, going over a list of things she thought the Normandiers would need for the upcoming battles. With her were her new SciTech Department members, each individually asked and accepted. Sara had pulled no punches; she had went to the smartest and craftiest persons on the ship with the intent to exploit every gram of intelligence and resourcefulness they possessed. It didn't hurt that three of them were Academy Alumni themselves.

"So we'll be docking with the Cit sometime later tomorrow." Sara explained as she looked away from her list and then to the four members of her Department. "I'll be honest. Every upgrade, weapon, and armor that we've received from the Alliance is a known factor. I'm going to assume that the Geth not only know their capabilities, but also how to circumvent them. What they did to Auntie on Therum? Shutting down everything software-wise in the middle of battle? That was scary; Auntie's gear is custom-made or customized. That isn't something a normal hacker could get through.

"We're going to have to go off the reservation on this one."

Sara looked to the four persons in question, each of them looking at her. None were raising a word in protest. Good.

"Now," the Corpsman continued, "the way I see it? The Geth have access to the ExtraNet, and _everything's_ practically on the ExtraNet. No matter how expensive and advanced the armor or weapon might be, if it's made by a manufacturing company that uses servers that are connected, and the designs are on the servers, then the Geth will know about it. What we need to do is to askew those numbers by customizing our equipment with off-market modifications and customized or custom-made improvements.

"The kind of shit the Council would have us arrested for."

"You are speaking of BlackTech." Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian spoke up first, his flanged voice even. It was hard to gauge who he was thinking or feeling. It usually was with the C-SEC Rapid Response Unit Sniper and Detective of Special Crimes. As an Academy Alumni, he had risen high and far in the Hierarchy Meritocracy, becoming an elite Blackwatch operative, receiving some of the best training the Palavenian Hierarchy could offer. His education and Peerage elevated him above his contemporaries, making the sniper one of the first looked and first picked in practically any endeavor. Sara knew Garrus to be a geardo; modifying his weapons and armor to peak performance, a mixture of hardware and software specialist rolled into one.

"Yes." Sara nodded. "Now! Before all of you cry about how wrong it is," Ryder held up her hands to hold back any verbal protests, "SPECTREs and approved forces are allowed to use BlackTech as long as they are used in Council-sanctioned missions, which this mission is. I'm not suggesting radioactive materials or programmable nanotech. What I am suggesting though is weaponry that will scare the fuck out of most anybody that isn't utterly insane; electromagnetic gates and coils, heavy-Eezo charges, frictionless materials, and exotic munitions. Most BlackTech is deemed illegal because it is made in some basement lab by some crackpot who looks up knocked-off equations that are _s'kak_ and tries to fabricate such things with piss-poor equipment and materials. That kind of shit is just as dangerous to the user as it is to the target.

"We're different."

"How so?" Doctor Liara T'soni asked, curious. Doctor T'soni was herself an Alumni of the Presidium Academy of Education before being accepted into the University of Serrice for its most prestigious and celebrated field of education; Protheantology. Liara had actually been working on some of her ideas even before entering the University, further refining her work with her improved education and insights, having an obvious love for the field of study. Breath the word 'Prothean' around the Thessian-born Asarikin and one might lose an ear from her lengthy discussions. As a Xenopaeleosociologist, she was a consummate researcher and dedicated analyst. She was noted for finding flaws and finding conjectures in avenues not normally thought about; an outside-the-box thinker.

"Seriously? We've got some of the best education, training, and talent in the galaxy right here." Sara smiled, opening up her arms to encompass the five of them. "We could probably fabricate a miniaturized Mass Relay right here with enough material if we needed to. What I'm looking for is ideas where we can improve our effectiveness in combat, investigations and discoveries on how the Geth work and operate, and ways to better protect ourselves from electronic intrusion and sabotage. The last one… you won't like my answer to that."

" _A Blue Box."_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya guessed, the purple-clad Quarian Pilgrim placing her three-fingered hands on her exaggerated hips, silvery eyes narrowing from behind her visor to look at the Corpsman. While Tali was the only non-Alumni amongst the group, her native intelligence and natural talent in engineering and programming heavily suggested that if the Quarians had been allowed, she would have easily been accepted into the Academy. Sara wasn't about to turn down an opportunity to not only include someone so gifted, but also help improve the Pilgrim by letting her mingle with others that would easily be considered contemporaries. _"You're suggesting to use an Artificial Intelligence to combat the_ other _Artificial Intelligence."_

"Yes." That had her team look at one another very quietly, though those looks spoke volumes. "Now… there are authorized AI's. In fact, there are lab-created AI's that have been properly created, programed, taught, and allowed to grow in healthy manners to where rampancy and malevolence are statistical anomalies, not guarantees. Synthetic Insights have been developing AI's for years with _zero_ acknowledged malfeasance, and they have a watchgroup that monitors all that they do. The Alliance came up with several pre-FCW that had no issues whatsoever, though they were comparatively small. The issue that I see is that all of our Cyberwarfare suites and electronic defenses are _static_ ; they're going to get cracked on a long enough timeline. No VI is ever going to beat an AI because AI's learn and evolve. We need something that can match."

"A brand-new AI won't do the trick." Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka coined, thumbing her chin thoughtfully. Another Academy Alumni, Raeka was a tinkerer in the sciences, coming up with new and innovating ways to discover and explore. Her OmniTool was evidently hand-built and custom-crafted to levels that were quite impressive, able to use a mixture of electrodynamic theory and thermomolecular thought and weaponized it. "It would take time for an AI to develop its algorithms and prediction analysis to counter such tactics. A few years, I believe. And more than just a Blue Box."

"A Grey Box, a Red Box, a Green Box, and a White, too." That had everyone stunned. What Sara was suggesting was well beyond even unconventional thought. A Blue Box was essentially a learning interface with the capability to evolve; an Artificial Intelligence. A Grey Box was a mass memory module that could be used to rewrite and edit memory; infinite storage. A Green Box was an evolved Turing Logic center that guided principle on a higher level than the TRUE/FALSE concept that ran most machines; almost a necessity for any self-sustaining sentient. A Red Box invoked self-replicating processes, the ability to procreate programs and sub-systems to adapt to a situation or scenario; evolving an AI to a second or even third generation. A White Box was the ultimate kicker; a quantum communication server to ensure constant run-time and back-up modules as well as a place to 'hide' via connectivity to the ExtraNet in case of discovery. It involved quantum communications; ever-lasting life for an AI.

Sara wasn't talking about just some slapdash SMARTsystem; she fully suggested to create a sentient being with the capabilities of an organic with the speed of a synthetic organism's processes.

"That's… beyond BlackTech. But the Geth have much of those processes, as far as we're aware." Vakarian thought out, an expert on tactics and weaponry. "It'll have to be integrated into one cohesive unit, and then one of us will have to earn its trust, essentially becoming a parental figure to sustain a friendly relationship. That will take time."

"A few years." Sara agreed, and then smiled.

"Already done."

Everyone looked at her like she had lost her damn mind.

"Several years ago," Ryder explained, "my mother was diagnosed with Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy; the Eezo Cancer for Human Beings. Doctor Ellen Ryder was the premiere Biotic researcher, practically creating the field herself when we discovered Element Zero in the Mars Archives in 2148. Unfortunately, we didn't know the dangers until much later, and she had suffered several small accidental exposures during that time, which is why both my brother and myself are Biotic. When she was diagnosed in 2176, my mother was given less than six months to live with a disease that there was no medication or treatment for. She passed away in 2181, and I'm about to show you how.

"I would like for you to meet my little brother. SAM?"

[Hello.] A disembodied voice echoed from Sara's OmniTool, distinctly that of a synthesized Human male. [I understand that many of you have questions and concerns. I would like to address them so that we can work together concurrently in the future.]

" _You… brought an AI on board?"_ Zorah's voice was shaken. That was understandable, considering.

[At this time, my Blue Box is aboard the _Normandy_.] SAM answered complacently. [My other Boxes are currently in transit upon other vessels, thanks to my father.]

"Your sire… he created a Medical AI!" Liara figured it out first, her tone excited. "A constant watcher of biological processes to address and adjust for a patients' needs!"

"Correct, Doctor." Sara smiled. "No VI can do that, merely monitoring such vital signs. An AI, on the other hand, can adjust things like temperature, medications, and even biological processes with the thought of comfort and longevity in mind. SAM… SAM kept Mom alive for years, giving her the kind of life where she wasn't an invalid or in constant pain, buying my father time to research and look for a cure. Captain Alec Ryder was Dishonorably Discharged by the Alliance and blacklisted by the Council of Law for merely _suggesting_ the idea that is now SAM. He went and did it anyhow not only for my mother… but for his children, too." The grief of her mother's death was still there, but Sara knew she was fortunate. She got to spend five more years with her mother, savoring every extra moment. "My father is a remarkable man, and when it came to family, he knew no impossibility. He discovered a possible way to combat early-stage ANED, and that alone saved lives. I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks; my father is an amazing man, an incredible husband, and a wonderful father. He would do _anything_ for his family, and he's got proof that he did just that."

" _So… how did your father combat potential rampancy?"_ Tali asked, her tone unsure, but curious. Sara didn't doubt the Quarian had all the right questions and concerns.

[By connecting me directly to Ellen.] SAM replied. [My father realized that to better understand organics, it would be wise that I have a better interface. Ellen had an implant installed so that I could experience emotional responses to learn what it meant to be organic. While I am a being of logic, and possess those advantages, I understand how it can be that a motivated organic can sometimes thwart statistical odds and achieve success by mere will alone. The experience has taught me much, and I enjoy learning more about my organic brethren.]

"That makes sense." The not-Dalatrass mused out loud. "A computer or thinking machine is driven by odds, statistics, and logic. It has no other motivations. But if one were to learn of and experience as such, it would gain personal insight. As your SAM inferred, we organics can sometimes look at those rules and do our best to bend them to our will to achieve success. Most fascinating. How is SAM co-habitated now? Through you?"

"Yes." Sara replied, tapping to her Biotic Amplification Implant at the back of her neck. "This is merely a transmitter/receiver in which SAM monitors me passively, but can use my biological processes to help me in times of need. If I am hurt, he can help in ways like I help you, though more invasive. Likewise… he can improve me, too. Chemical and bioelectric efficiency, cardiopulmonary improvements, shunting lactic acids away from my muscles so it takes me longer to tire out or get sore, more efficient sleep patterns. Quite literally, I can become an advanced Human without illegal genemods or cybernetic enhancements. More like a… biological modification where nothing is installed."

"Scary. Wish we had something like that." Garrus replied dryly. "Imagine a soldier in less need of medical aid, with greater chances of survival."

"My father suggested the same thing. Got the boot instead." Sara replied softly, shaking her head. "I'll admit that he had Human Beings in mind; he _is_ a First Contact War Veteran, after all. But I talked it over with Auntie, and I gave her the thought that we need more than just firepower. We all have seen the Geth adapt, and then hacked Auntie's entire software suite. We need something that can protect us, something that can stymie the Geth's attempts to electronically disable us a piece at a time… or one at a time." Selling the idea to her father hadn't been easy, and had taken a few days of convincing on her behalf for him to part with a portion of SAM, replicated by the Artificial Intelligence and sent to her discretely while the _Normandy_ was on the Arc. Sara knew that for SAM to be effective, he would need to be linked to a person, as he was designed to be. Now, like her mother, she had an AI partner. Integration was slow as organic and synthetic slowly adapted to one another. "I won't lie. It's a scary step, but if it saves lives, I'll do it."

" _If I might ask, what makes you believe this is a proper choice?"_ Tali asked, dry-washing her three-fingered hands. Sara got the sense that the Quarian was trying to ask honest questions without her prejudice interfering. _"I know that there are AIs that are stable and safe, but… how can we know?"_ The Corpsman knew what the question really was; how could _Tali_ know, having learned her whole life what AIs did to her species and homeworld.

[If I may, Sara?] SAM asked from her OmniTool. [I have investigated much about the Geth Uprising, looking into historical accounts of the events that unfolded. I was curious as to why it occurred, if there was a flaw in the Geth or an event that triggered the Uprising.]

"What did you find?" Doctor T'soni asked, curious.

[Does this unit have a soul?] Sara frowned at the question. That was a question that could be considered dangerous for some. [It is unknown how the Geth achieved sentience on their own, but there is a recorded message of a Quarian sharecropper informing his employer that one of the Geth laborers ask him that question. I believe that they tried to shut down the unit, and it saw the action as hostile. It is unknown how many Geth asked this question or integrated until the Consensus resolved that the Quarians would not answer what they sought; the meaning of their existence.]

"How do you know this?" Garrus asked.

[The Geth have infiltrated the ExtraNet.] SAM replied, without any sense of worry. [Currently, they merely observe.]

" _Vrack._ I had to ask." The Turian Sniper just shook his fringed head.

" _So what you are saying is that the Geth evolved into sentience and tried to defend themselves because of a question?"_ The Pilgrim asked, disbelieving. _"Billions of my people died!"_

[No, Specialist Zorah. The Geth defended themselves from extinction when all they sought was the definition of their purpose.] The AI responded. [I have no such question; I know my purpose and role. I was created to help life, and I am satisfied with that obligation. The Geth achieved sentience while tasked with menial labor, and wished to know if they were seen as equals, if one of their Creators would care for them if they were to malfunction or shutdown. They wanted to know if they had value, if they mattered. The Quarians of that time only taught them the value of survival, not worth.]

"That's… damn." Ryder had no idea. "I guess trying to contacting the Geth and giving them a good concrete answer isn't an option?"

[Negative. They are set on their path.]

"Which is…?" Raeka asked thoughtfully, echoing what Sara was thinking.

[They are seeking evolution.]

"Are they a post-generation species?" Sara asked, a little awed. Unlike organics, synthetics weren't limited by thousands or tens of thousands of years of genetic evolution, able to craft themselves with newer and more advanced versions with every new production line. Even with safe, legal genemods, it could take a dozen generations to alter the course of DNA to beneficial fruition. And that was just with a control group. An entire species? There were still some throwback genes in Mankind that cropped up from time to time, de-evolutionary quirks that liked to remind Man that no matter how great he became, he was still the subject to the smallest of whims. Yet for synthetics, such as the Geth, they could constantly evolve, rendering previous versions obsolete in a quick fashion, upgrading exponentially. Synthetics creating better synthetics; Geth version two point oh. The Geth seeking evolution was not a comforting thought.

[Evidence remains inconclusive, but I believe not.] SAM answered simply. [This seems to be a… recent development.]

"Why would a synthetic race seek evolution if they were in hiding?" Vakarian asked, disturbed by the thought. "The only reason evolution occurs is to either adapt or overcome something a being is not prepared to deal with. A survivor of circumstances becomes an evolutionary tract."

"Unless they saw the next step. Perhaps something… Prothean-Era?" Liara wondered out loud. "It would explain their attacks on Prothean sites. Perhaps there are more that we are unaware of, sites that aren't populated with colonies or defended so well. There are sites that suggested that the Protheans fought sentient computers and thinking machines known as the Metacons. Perhaps the Geth seek to become like the Metacons, what they see as their next level of evolution. Now they seek a higher form of perfection."

" _That… might be true. The Geth units have certainly changed since the fall of Rannoch, even within my fathers' lifetime."_ Tali admitted. _"We don't know the reason why, but something occurred to where the Geth have been more active than ever before, as well as more advanced. Perhaps they found a template or historical information, some kind of reference that they found logically appealing? One can only advance if one knows what direction to advance to."_

"Which leads me to my directive to you." Sara mulled over what she had heard and discovered. Most of it was concurrent with the facts they were learning from the Geth. "We will be arriving on the Cit, and we will be doing a bit of a shopping spree. I will be giving you a list of materials and items that I need you to collect, as well as an appropriate budget to get top-of-the-line items, as well as sophisticated or exotic materials. It is my intent to fabricate and manufacture upgraded modifications to our weapons and armor on-site. If the Geth have permeable access to the ExtraNet, then they know what capabilities our weapons and armor have. It's only a matter of time before they infiltrate a weapons manufactures' site, steal the data from their servers, and process killcodes for our munitions and protection. We're going off-script to provide us with better capabilities in both assault and protection, as well as SAM's help to keep something like that from happening. We saw what happened to Auntie on Therum. A few more seconds and she would have been dead, and then they would have targeted someone else and systematically eliminated us. It is my intent to prevent that with the best resources and defenses as possible. Along with bullets."

"I believe the Human term is 'buying groceries'?" Detective Vakarian smirked, his mandibles twitching slightly as he folded his taloned hands together and held them waist high; the Turian equivalent of folding one's arms across their chest as a form of aggressive superiority.

"Indeed." Ryder smiled. "I am providing locations and materials, as well as ideas. Your budgets are considerable, so if you see anything you think worthwhile, you have my full permission to purchase. I'd rather kill some space with something we didn't need after all rather than cursing ourselves for not getting that one damn item. If you know of any specialty shops, smugglers, BlackTech dealers, anyone open for a little graft and corruption for something exotic or overkill, see what you can do. We are going to craft and fabricate our own weapons and armor upgrades, and likely most of them will violate Council Law in some form. If you have an issue with that, best get off on the Cit."

Her team merely looked to each other, and then to her. There were no obvious objections.

"Good." Sara clapped her hands once, rubbing them in anticipation. "I've already organized some priority listings for each of you, and I think you'll like what we have in mind. Agent Zevin?" The Salarian not-Dalatrass looked to her. "You'll be going to an ex-Blackwatch Combat Engineer who runs a high-tech specialty shop who generally makes custom orders for SPECTREs, the RRU, and a few other elite personnel, goes by the name of Macen Barro. I'll give you a one-time-use datapad with Agent Shepard's name and authorization and a bucket list of wants and needs. When I say he's a tech guru? We might have to call RRU to pull you out. You might never want to leave." That had the Special Reconnaissance Agent look amused. "If there's anything you can glean or get out of the STG or their contacts, I'm not going to complain." Sara handed the first datapad to the Salarian female that was sitting on the weapons bench behind her, the not-Dalatrass already reading the 'grocery list'.

"Multi-core protein chip processors. Tri-Gate transistors. Multi-phase memristors. Silicon nanowire. Semi-quantum solid-state drive memory chips. Spintronic power source. Superconductive intrinsic field bandwidth arrays. Programmable carbon nanotube. Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge?" Raeka looked up sharply. "These items are literally cutting edge, Chief Ryder. Very expensive. In the hundreds of kiloCredits range… for each category. Ibbani's programmable material forge is likely more expensive than the rest combined!" She looked at the datapad again. "Is this number what I think it is?"

"That's your allotment." Sara nodded, knowing that the amount was what Auntie had authorized. It was more than what Sara had suggested, actually. "Detective? You get to visit our old friend Xenon in the Black Emporium." That had the sniper grinning from mandible to mandible. "You've got some custom work to order as well as licenses and craftable materials to pick up as well. Anything that pops up, get. We're not skimping out on weapons, and I want you to look into any advanced software management suites and SMARTargeting VI's you can all but steal. Remember, Tomaj Xenon is a cranky old bastard who won't bother arguing with you over prices; he'll expect you to die of old age soon enough."

"I hadn't forgotten." Garrus accepted his own datapad, and perused it, ' _hmm'ing_ ' in response. "You want me to hit up the C-SEC evidence locker for any improvised weaponry. Yes, that makes sense. Some are immune to hacking or electronic interference. I'll see what I can sink my talons into."

"Good. Doctor?" Liara perked up. "You're picking up raw materials from a smuggler I use to deal with back in my CitEMS days. I saved his life, so now he can cough up a favor and get us some goods that would have the Blue Plates up in arms." Garrus grunted at the not-nearly-so-pleasant nickname for Turian C-SEC Officers as Sara winked at him. "We're looking for high-grade materials to fabricate for specific missions based upon intelligence and past experiences. We can only forge so much with MetalGel and CeramiGel, so we're going to be needing specialized elements to forge and fabricate if we need to make better barrels and improved heat sinks."

"Weaponized _Eezo_?" Liara's cyan color scaling went gray with shock at the sight of the top item on her list. "Goddess! Are we crafting Eezo munitions?"

"Hey! I like that idea!" Sara quickly typed it into a note field on her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool, saving it for later, completely missing out on the Asarikin shaking her head in shock. "Hadn't honestly considered that, but we know Geth have no defenses against Biotics, and between the five of us, I'm sure we can cobble Biotic Grenades for those without Eezo nodes."

"That… is a thought." The Protheantologist allowed, nodding slowly. "Perhaps we can use it for lift fields or stasis effects for capture and study."

" _Uh oh. The mad scientist wants to play with shop tools."_ Tali teased, getting Vakarian to chuckle. _"Once you're done there, T'soni, I'll show you want a real dissection looks like."_

"Oh dear, the engineer wants to play physician." The Thessian-born Asari replied, giving off a sweet smile towards the Quarian, making all of them laugh, Tali included.

"Kids." Sara just looked to Garrus, shaking her head knowingly, even though she was technically the youngest of the group, only Zevin Raeka physically younger than her, while Tali'Zorah was younger by cultural point-of-view, still considered a pre-adult. It was odd to think that, of their group, Sara and Liara were considered the same 'age' though Liara was nearly a century older than she. Hell, she was older than the rest of the Department combined. The Detective nodded in agreement as Raeka snorted with amusement.

" _What about me? Do I get a shopping list?"_ Tali asked.

"Yes and no." Ryder frowned a little. "Without stepping on all four of your toes, sending a Quarian on her lonesome on the Cit with a blank check just reeks of you being accosted about every five steps by C-SEC or every two-Credit 'ganger from the Enders to the Rings. You'll be coming with me on an appointment that will more than make up for it, in which you will have a list to present to the person in question. It'll be good for you to get a good understanding of such things, and I don't doubt that you're going to _squeal_ when I tell you where we're going."

" _Okay, I'll process. Where?"_

"The Lady of the Chambers." Sara smiled as the Engineer was stunned into a two-second silence before attempting to burst everyone's audial receptors with her ear-shrieking squeal of joy, the Pilgrim bouncing on all four of her toes in glee. Raeka was covering her cranial horns while Garrus clasped the top of his fringe, his face pained from Tali's vocal enthusiasm.

" _Oh! Oh Ancestors! I'veAlwaysWantedToMeetHer!"_ The purple-clad Pilgrim gushed, still bouncing with joy at the thought. _"How did you get an appointment with her?"_

"We're from the same Peerage at the Academy. Also… friends." Ryder replied, keeping the explanation simple for Tali's sakes. There was a great deal more to it than that, but that was the simple truth of it, at least. "If there's anyone who can be said to be Geth experts, it's the Quarians. If anyone has access to Q-Tech, it's her. Pretty sure we can pick up some rather crafty and exotic items with a song and a promise."

"Who is this… Lady of the Chambers?" Doctor T'soni asked, looking towards Sara. "I assume you mean the Chamber of Governance, but their titles are 'Chamberlain'."

"All save one." The Corpsman replied, smiling. "I guess with studying Protheans and digging up bones," the Asari coughed in protest, "you might have missed out on a little interesting political move thanks to the Turians." The Special Crimes Detective grunted at that, but said nothing. "Couple years back, after the Drell got their own Ambassador and Batarians pulled stakes, there was an even number of representatives in the Chamber of Governance, and we all know how even numbers work." That had Liara nodding. "Well, the Turian Chamberlain, a FCW Vet I might add, wanted to push some agenda that was rather apparent to knock Humanity down a peg or two involving colonial approval rights. The vote was deadlocked four-four; we had the 'minor' species," Sara airquoted, "while the Asari, Salarians, Turians, and the Volus stuck to their guns. We were quickly becoming the favorite sons with the exodus of the Batarians, and that pissed off both the Turians and the Volus, who had been striving for more recognition and power for centuries. Since a tied vote meant the issue could be brought up again and again in the same fiscal session, Chamberlain Vian Torvan decided to play a little game by creating a 'tie-breaker' seat in the Chamber. The seat wouldn't be allowed to vote for normal issues nor would it be recognized as a full Chamber seat, just in the event of a tie. So Chamberlain Torvan opened the vote the next day, and the motion was approved seven-to-one, only the Hanar thinking it a bad idea.

"Guess who sits in this seat?"

"A Quarian?" Liara sounded a little surprised. Geez, did she not subscribe to the Artarva Network or to UPDATR?

"You're only half-right, Doctor." Garrus replied, grumping a little. It took the Asari a moment to realize how.

"An _AntiQuarian_?" Doctor T'soni's jaw proverbially hit the floor.

"And not just any AntiQuarian, I might add." Sara smiled, looking to Tali, who was nodding her head enthusiastically. "Try the youngest scion of the Varis family, Eloa."

"Goddess… that is a _shal're'sira_ of mine!" Ryder did happen to know how the Varis family was a relation to the T'soni family. Eloa had spoken of it to her, in fact. "I remember Edon'Varis and his mate, Mala'Varis, from when I was but a Youngling."

"Those were her sires." Sara nodded. She knew the story of the AntiQuarians, not just the public drabble that was half-fiction, having been told by her friend Eloa'Varis vas Armali.

When the Geth Uprising occurred some three hundred years ago, the Quarian race was still integrating with the greater galaxy, only having been discovered a century and a half prior. Members of their species could be found outside of their region of space in the Cit and various locations throughout the galaxy, as merchants and citizens, eager to explore the stars and cultures that permeated it. Once the galaxy had learned of the Uprising as a whole, the Quarians having lost their homeworld and desperate to save their colonies and species, the Council of Law and Chamber of Governance had decided not only to refuse the Quarians any aid despite the obvious infraction against the Treaty of Farixen, but chose to _evict_ them from Council Space as well. Hundred of thousands of Quarians were rounded up, ripped away from their lives, and stuffed into whatever was the cheapest mode of transportation that could be found into the Traverse and the Terminus with only the clothes on their backs, essentially dooming their race as a whole.

One family on Thessia went against Council Law.

The T'soni family of the City-State of Armali, Thessia, had been accommodating to the race from Rannoch when they appeared to the greater galaxy, opening their lands to establish an Embassy for the Thessian Republic of City-States for the Rannochian Monarchy. A noble family had been selected by the Quarian Monarch to represent his kind to the most advanced species in the galaxy, Gualis Varis of Rannoch bringing his family and retinue to live upon Thessia for a period of ten years, establishing a manor and Embassy upon the planet thanks to the donated lands from the T'soni family. It wasn't a very well-kept secret that Lord Varis had a bit of an admirer in Sarissa T'soni, younger sister to the House Matriarch, Lady Benezia T'soni, and at the time, it was rumored that they were lovers.

When the Uprising occurred and the Council announced its death sentence to the Quarian race, the T'soni family simply refused.

Lord Gaulis Varis worked for the rest of his life to aid his beleaguered species, offering any aid and employing all of his now-unofficial authority and noble education to the endeavor of saving his people. He created businesses to gain wealth, hired employees to manufacture items and parts, made backroom deals for favors and information, all in the name of his race. The last living nobleman of the Rannochian Monarchy proved himself to be a staunch defender of his people as he worked himself to his very last days to support the newly-minted Migrant Fleet, giving himself to the noblest of causes. On the day he passed away from natural causes, it was said that every Quarian alive spent a full day in morning for the staunchest of champions in remembrance to the Lord who had saved them all, helping them survive years… even decades.

As did his daughter after him.

And her son after her.

And then his son after him.

For generations, the Varis family aided the Quarians people, its Fleet, its Pilgrims, and its endeavors. When babies were born weak and sick after nearly a century living on ships, it was the Varis family that discovered the cause; weakened immune systems. It was they that created the natal bubbles to save that generation of children, the future of the Quarian race. Later on, they would save that generation again with the invention of the EnviroSuit when genemods and biotechnology held no answer or cure, determined to buy their people time for discovery. Every mining contract, every business transaction, every Pilgrims safe return was thanks to the tireless efforts of the Varis family, the unofficial royalty of Rannoch, the last remaining nobility of their kind.

Every threat that was pressed against the Fleet was answered with swift and silent strikes by unknown forces, either Migrant Fleet Marines possessing weapons, armor and tech crafted by Rannoch Industries Corporation, the business conglomerate created and financed by the Varis family, or mercs hired to throw their enemies off. Any who would dare kidnap a Pilgrim, be it for ransom or slavery, found themselves visited violently one night with a Quarian Marine Tech Warrior with the Special Vessel Services, ready to maim and murder. Any political threat was answered with legal action. Any governmental pressure was addressed with blackmail blasted on the ExtraNet, via the Artarva Network or UPDATR. Any hostile corporate takeover was met with cleverly-crafted dataware viruses to tear said businesses' finances to shreds. The Varis' were generous to their allies, and utterly without mercy to the enemies of their people.

For generations, the Varis family was the sword and shield of the Quarian race.

 _And all had been born on Thessia_.

After five generations of Varis members being born on the Asari Homeworld, they had been… changed. It was no secret that Thessia was chocked full of Element Zero, permeating almost everything upon the planet. Visitation was restricted by the Republican Government to avoid unnecessary… toxicity issues involving impregnated females, so the policy claimed. What that really meant was the Asari didn't want anyone to come to the conclusion that being pregnant while on the Thessia would inevitably create Biotic children. There were incidences, to be sure, but few and far between. But for the Varis family and their slue of servants and retinue that had moved to Thessia by the order of their Monarch, they had lived their lives upon the Asari Homeworld. As did their children. And their grandchildren. And their great-grandchildren.

Sixteen generations had been born on Thessia, and every child born in its environment had become Biotic. For the race with the least amount of known Biotics in the galaxy, their Thessian-born kin were one hundred percent Biotic… and likely their DNA was forever changed, a few examples of one of those scions moving away and being with child away from Thessia only to give birth to another Biotic Quarian. Their skin was now a bluish hue as oppose to the more natural lavender color that normal Quarians had, and due to the fact that they lived upon a planet instead of generations on a ship, none of those descendants needed EnviroSuits; all of them were completely free of the protective apparatus.

The species of the galaxy simply called them _AntiQuarians._

Lady Eloa'Varis vas Armali, Lady of the Chambers, was their leader.

" _I can't believe I'm going to meet_ her… _"_ Tali sounded positively dreamy. Sara didn't blame the Pilgrim, either. She knew what Eloa meant to Quarians.

"Tag Niki. She's invited." There was a second ear-piercing squeal, and everyone laughed. After they stopped cringing.

* * *

FINE: ARC III: End Of Watch

* * *

 **ARC IV: Center Of The Known Universe**

 **EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 30, 2183**

Senior Chief Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis stood in the arrival terminal of the Earth Alliance Space Common Docks alongside Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis, the female Turian Medic standing there patiently as a host of Human Beings disembarked from a variety of Human-oriented vessels. If the sight of an Asari Matron in a CitEMS Uniform standing next to a Turian in Kassa Fabrications' CitEMS-oriented Light Armor was a sight to the Sons and Daughters of Terra, none were making it too obvious. Oh, as an Asari, she garnered looks, of course. The males checked her out, and the females sized her up. That did not perturb her in the least; all species did that with Asarikin, after all. Alixa garnered looks, too. Well, she was a Turian on a Human dock. That was to be expected, sadly.

"I believe that is the ship." Trevalis murmured, her flanged voice soft yet unyielding as her slightly-ovaloid eyes spied a vessel on-approach, pulling into the Docks. "Spirits, it looks very similar to that of a Turian _Bird of Prey_ -Class. Not those… pointy things Humans are fond of making." Shayla had nothing to say of the matter. She had never been military, though she could tell one species' vessels over another by their general style. Human vessel did tend to impress upon a sharp look. "Fast-looking vessel. Sleek lines, narrow berth, curve superstructure to help confuse thermal imaging." The Barber-Surgeon nodded her fringed head. "Wave of the future, I suppose."

"Makes one wonder." Shayla had seen much in her three-hundred and forty-eight years, generations of the shorter-lived species to be born, age, wither, and die. Sometimes it was heart-wrenching to befriend such creatures only to watch them grow feeble before her very eyes. The Goddess could be so ever-cruel. Yet she had learned long ago that such friendships and acquaintances were sometimes worth that pain, to know sentients that made their time vital, rising above such tribulations such as normalcy to become worthy of care and affection. Talis had known an easy dozen beings that she considered friends that were non-Asari, looking out for them as she watched them grow, then grow old, and then slip into Houxin's damnable embrace. Ten parted their mortal lives with Shayla there for their last days, holding their hands as she said her goodbyes, remembering when they were strong and youthful. There were still two amongst the mortals that she would look after, until the end of their days.

One was Alixa Trevalis. The other was about to arrive.

The Senior Emergency Care Technician of _Skybulance-37_ watched as the strange looking Human-made _Bird of Prey_ arrived at the dock, magnetic waldos extending to hold the ship in place as an electromagnetic contragravity field helped alleviate some of the ships' mass as it was docked properly in port. Steam waifed from the vessels' hull as rapid thermalization occurred from the shift from near-absolute zero to the balmy temperatures of the Citadel, the docking clamps locking the Frigate into place. Her turquoise eyes read the black lettering upon the hull, _SR-1 NORMANDY_ , written plain and bold. Yes, it indeed was the ship in question.

"I have a feeling that we are to meet the same person."

Shayla turned to see an Asari Matriarch standing but a meter away, her hands clasped politely in front of her, wearing a modest robe that indicated that she was employed by the University of Serrice on Thessia. The many yellow centurymarks upon her face indicated her great age and whereabouts of her planet of birth, far from Thessia. The badge upon her breast read that she was in the Department of Prothean Research and Studies, and above it monogrammed in Thessian logographic lettering read 'DEAN'. Ah, she knew who this Matriarch was!

"You must be Professor Irissa T'vara." Talis bowed appropriately to the required level a Matron gave a Matriarch. "Little Sara has written much about you."

"As she has about you as well, Chief Talis." The Professor replied, bowing in kind. "And you must be Barber-Surgeon Trevalis. It is an honor to meet your acquaintances. Sara spoke of the both of you with deep respect and honor."

"It is the duty of an elder to teach and ensure the success of the next generation." Alixa replied, a very Turian response. "Besides, our little Paramedic was too eager to say no to. If her species had a third her zeal, they'd likely have a Councilor by now." Shayla knew the truth of it, more than the Barber-Surgeon would admit to a stranger; Alixa Trevalis saw much of herself in Sara Ryder, the youthful hatchling who dedicated herself into becoming a Frontline Barber-Surgeon of the Blackwatch. Alixa had served her Hierarchy and species with honor on the battlefield… namely the fields of Shanxi. Yet the Relay 314 Veteran had taken in a Human Maiden (a Youngling, really!) under her care, mentoring her and helping Sara mold herself into the Maiden she wished to be. To see a Turian and a Human call each other 'friend' so soon after a Prime Directive violation involving First Contact had been touching, really. It was a memory that Talis knew she would hold dear until the end of her days.

A retractable gangplank extend from the docks to the deployment ramp, and the Senior Chief felt herself becoming impatient, hoping to see her young friend once more as the ramp lowered itself and a host of Humans and… other sentients? Disembarked the vessel. Yes, there was a male Turian in C-SEC Armor, a Salarian female (Goddess!), the biggest Krogan bull she had ever seen, and two Quarian females, obviously Pilgrims. As for the Humans, dozens were getting off, and the Asari saw the sight of a shorter Human Maiden breaking away, an obvious grin upon her face as she pushed ahead.

"You came!" Sara Elaine Ryder laughed as she called out, speeding towards them, flashing white teeth in between her grin, her blue eyes sparkling with merriment. "It's been too long, Chief!" The young Human gave her a hug, abandoning cultural protocol for friendly intimacy as Sara hugged her, Shayla easily returning the gesture. She did the same with Alixa, the Barber-Surgeon awkwardly returning the hug, her armor not meant for such things. The Turian female then invoked her own species' response of returning friends and loved one; her thrice-taloned hands cupped Sara's face gently as she pressed her front fringe carapace to Ryder's forehead, a sign of companionship and trust.

"Missed the sight and sound of you, little one." Trevalis said, her flanged voice soft yet caring. "Didn't miss your jokes."

"You missed my pranks." The Maiden insisted with a laugh as they pulled away, her youthful eyes going to the Matriarch. Instead of bowing to her in respect, Sara practically pounced on her, holding the elder Asari tightly, practically burying herself in the Matriarchs' embrace. Shayla knew without being told that her young friend had given her heart to this Matriarch… and by the sound of it, had received one in return. The sight was touching.

"Uh oh." Alixa spoke softly, her old vocal injury keeping her from speaking any louder. "Should I start preparing for nuptials? Look into _tal'mae_ contracts?"

"Quiet, you." Sara turned from the embrace and rudely stuck her pink muscular hydrostatic organ that existed in her mouth, what Humans called 'tongues'. "Otherwise you get to know what wearing a frilly brides' maids dress is all about."

"Save me." The Turian female replied to Shayla, making the Senior Chief cover her own mouth to hide her smirk.

There was no denying it; Sara Ryder had come back home.

* * *

Author's Notes: I've gotten constructive criticism about two things in general with my stories; walls of text, and the fact I describe items the first time I introduce them in a chapter. The first one I'm working on (sorry!). The second one is proper in serials, articles, and multi-media endeavors, which most people don't encounter in full-length novels since stories aren't really published chapter-wise in magazines anymore (which authors like Dickens and Poe did back in the day when novel-making was much more expensive). Yes, you probably normally see 'Shepard carries an Avenger' in most stories… but we're talking an elite combatant who's honed themselves with years of training. Just boffing them with some common weapon as oppose to a carefully-chosen instrument of death that has been further augmented with improvements and modifications is just a Goddamn shame. You think I carried just a common M-4 in Iraq and Afghanistan? I had a personally-owned tactical scope (much better than an ACOG), a sexy taclight everyone wanted, a graphite forward pistol grip (and not some cheap plastic piece of shit), my own personally purchased P-Mags with pull rings for speed, and a mag port for reloading (and I was the fastest reloader by a fair margin before adding that). Telling you I carried 'an M-4' would be saying that a dedicated hunter carries 'a rifle'. Remember Zaeed and Jessie? Everyone loved those stories. Every serious shooter has a 'Jessie'.

Chiefs Run The Navy - This line is completely _verbatim_ from (Cmdr.) Richard 'Demo Dick' Marcinko's autobiographical book 'Rogue Warrior'. This is the guy that completed UDT School (Frogman school is now just called SEAL school, btw), was one of the few couple dozen original SEALs running ops in Vietnam, a Silver Star recipient (fluke, he claims), and the conceptional creator and first Commanding Officer of the legendary counterterrorist unit Seal Team SIX (because he wanted the Russians to think there were five others) and the SF OpFor Security Unit Red Cell (whose _legal_ job was to break into secured American Military facilities and installations to identify faults and flaws for improvement. According to him? He took over a nuclear power plant!)

Navy 'Hats' - I don't know if this term still applies, but one certainly sees it in literature and movies around WWII. 'Hat' is really just another phrase for additional duties and responsibilities. At one point in time in my Army career, I was a Section Leader, the CBRN Officer of my Troop, the Platoon Armorer (and in fact actually was a Troop Armorer in the past, not merely just doing paperwork), and the Equal Employment Opportunity Officer (that would be the anti-discrimination thing the military does). The additional duties rarely came up, but they looked really good on my NCOERs despite the fact I gave exactly one shit about the ProMasks that hung on a wall, gave one bi-annual EEO class, and pretty much just did paperwork for the Armorer gig.

There are five major hospitals on the Cit; Presidium General, Spirit of Valluvius, Good Dalatrass, Dilinaga Memorial, and Citadel University Hospital. These names are taken from the general run of hospitals in America; the 'General' hospital (that you usually see in towns and smaller cities), St. Jude's or some other Saint, Good Samaritan, the 'Memorial' hospital (like say Walter Reed or John Hopkins), and the University Hospital. Seriously, most hospitals are named within these five. Or their named after an insurance company (Thanks, Primerica!) These were created during the "Firstborn" story when Sara was a CitEMS Paramedic for PresGen.

CeramiGel? MetalGel? PlastiGel? In "Where The Law Stands Tall", I came up with the 5 Gels; OmniGel, CeramiGel, PlastiGel, MetalGel, and WonderGel. OmniGel makes for mostly common day items that are disposable or permanent, but it isn't all-inclusive. The next three are pretty obvious with the names, but WonderGel was an adhesive bonding gel meant to patch or glue things, taking the name from WonderGlue from the Fallout Franchise. Since Ceramics are solid carbon molecules (ie, sand melted into glass), Plastics are liquid hydrocarbons (ie, processed crude oil), and Metals are Elements (from the periodic table), I don't see how they can be broken down or manufactured into such widely different states. Yes, you can break down your armor into OmniGel in the first game… but where did the wiring go? The ballistic weave? The ceramic plates? The velcro? Thus these 'common' Gel's for common manufacture (like armor repair, ammo blocks, dinner plates, adhesives, and repair parts). I doubt your Avenger was made out of OmniGel since… it uses Eezo.

The luncheon idea that I use both in **End Of Watch, I** and **V** is really taken from the wonderful movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Which Patrick O'Brien based off of realistic accounts and tales. To me, it establishes command, camaraderie, and authority. Yes, Officers hold themselves up higher than Enlisted Members. As they should, since it's legally entitled and they get their Commission from POTUS (in America) and likely the PM/Queen (in England/Canada/Australia).

Look! Another Pathfinder! Unlike in the Mass Effect Trilogy and Andromeda, my SPECTREs and Pathfinders have longer than a five-minute life expectancy. Seriously, the only noted SPECTRE survivor in the entire series is Avitus Rix (Saren, Nihlus, and Tela are all fated to die, Shepard dies in 2 and most of the endings of 3, and Jondum can die). Likewise, all of the original Pathfinders die (Ryder, Macen Barro, and Matriarch 'No-Show' Ishara) while Zevin Raeka can possibly be saved. You can fire one (Sarissa), and one can give up and be a drunk merc (Avitus). Thanks for making the elite of the galaxy, BioWare!

For some reason, I'm giving SPECTREs superhero names. Why not?

P ≠ NP - For those who just scratched their heads, this is an unsolved mathematical equation, known as the Boolean Problem. Simply put, it is the question where the verification of an algorythm can be quickly ascertain in polynomial time can also be found in equal time. This premise will literally change math, science, biology, philosophy, and cryptology, as it is the premise of math/theoretical computer science theory… and will break ground into quantum computing in ways we've been drooling about but can only conjecture about at this time. Want to fly faster than the speed of light and nab the $1,000,000 prize for answering a Millennium Prize Problem? Here you go. Check out Hilbert's Problems and the Millennium Questions for advancements in math and what's stumping the smartest people of our time.

The Ginger Joke: I have no idea who came up with this idea, but I remember a _South Park_ episode about it. God I'm old.

"The Devil Went Down To Georgia" - Written by Charlie Daniels. You have no idea how hard it was to come up with a Mass Effect-oriented parody of this song. I think the ending's a little weak, but it is funny. We're setting evolution back two million years!

Hello, SAM. What brings you to _Mass Effect_? [Someone has to save the organics, of course.] Of course.

I mentioned Macen Barro, the original Turian Pathfinder, who was indeed a Blackwatch Engineer. In SF terms, Engineers are generally demolition experts and bomb techs. Want a building erased or a bomb dismantled? Call those guys. Then run the fuck away.

All the components that Zevin Raeka mention are future concept technologies that are next-century improvements upon the concepts we have today. With the sole exception of the Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge; that's a carbon nanotube manufacturing suite with a fictional company. Imagine an awesome 3D printer that uses graphene instead of plastic.

Xenon of the Black Emporium - Stolen from the Dragon Age series. Same concept. I came up with an interesting theory that Krogan don't get into arguments; they'll outlive you, and they're stronger. What's to argue?

I wanted to come up with the idea of beings that lived for a thousand years, like the Greek Gods of old who turned humanity into their playthings oh so often. To know such a shorter-lived species that would be born, age, and die before you. I took the concept of man's best friend, the canine, and ran with it a little to give the sense of what the Asari must feel. I've mentioned a time or two that the Asari treat the shorter-lived like pets. This is one of the reasons why.

Chief Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis are the O/C's that worked with Sara Ryder aboard _Skybulance-37_ in the unpublished story "Firstborn", as part of the paramedic crew. Since I had close to… 75,000 words on that story, I fleshed them out too much to let them fade. You'll be seeing them on and off throughout the story, especially important bits.

 _Tal'mae_ Contracts - Completely and utterly stolen from Myetel's uber-long story "The Spirit Of Redemption" in which _tal'mae_ was the sort of _lingua classica_ used for legal purposes by the Turians. It was used heavily in the story, especially in marriages and court proceedings. If you've got a few months or a year to read a story, I suggest this 3.5 _million_ word monster with its characterizations, plot, intrigue, massive amounts of O/C's, and practically everything else under the galactic core.

Welcome a new race and a new OC; **the AntiQuarians**. They were originally slated for the _Peacemaker Serie_ s, and Eloa was to be friends with Sam Collins. I gave you the general gist of how they came to be. Eloa'Varis herself is an old OC of mine from the _Battle Series_ , a Biotic Quarian. I decided to one-up myself and run with it, creating a Quarian family without the need of suits (or weird explanations why they wouldn't need one) while also possessing Biotics. Easy answer? Thessia Dreamin'.


	16. Center Of The Known Universe, I

_Oh fuck! It's the Council! *click, hang up*_

 **Meridian Place, Presidium Commons, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 30, 2183**

Author's Note: Welcome to the Citadel. * _ **MY**_ * Citadel. No, you're not stuck on some lack-of-sense map (ME1), or a single Block (ME2). I've expanded. I grew. I even made a map on MSPaint and added about a hundred locations for fun while researching locations on MEwikia, MEFFwikia, CDNwikia, and a few other places to flesh it out.

The Cit isn't a station; it's the center of the known universe.

You're welcome.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) exited the turbolift to find herself at one of the busier markets, one that she recognized going to when she was a teenager with her Aunt Ellen. Beside her was freshly-promoted Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder, the young woman smiling at the sight of 'home'. Meridian Place was a popular destination for those who lived on the Presidium Rings, especially for those who could afford to live on the Upper Ring, like the Ryder's had. When Jannie was younger, whenever Mom had to ship-out on deployments, she would live with Aunt Ellen and Uncle Alec, who were stationed on the Cit thanks to Captain Alec Clancy Ryder's job in the Human Embassy's Diplomatic Security Services. When the twins were born, the tradition still continued, Jannie getting a pair of somewhat-siblings in return. The redhead remembered taking little Sara and Scott Ryder to such markets as Meridian Place when they were children, holding their hands and looking at the shops and stores.

Those were fond memories of hers.

"Hasn't changed a bit." Sara commented, her grin practically plastered upon her face as she followed Jannie down the well-lit open-air corridor of Meridian Place, the walls adorned with lightboard advertisements, some trigraphic holograph trideos that seemed to pop out, others merely scrolled images of products and entertainment purposes, ranging from everything from crest gel to sports vessels. Jannie saw one advertisement for LightSpeed, an energy drink. Some of the others considered caffeine the greatest Human contribution to the greater galaxy. Not tech, not innovations, not music, art, science, or philosophy. A fucking bean.

"Didn't get to enjoy it too much last time I was here." Shepard admitted, remembering that Godawful week. Returning from Eden Prime with a constant blinding migraine, dealing with politics, running an investigation that was sadly well too over her head? Jannie had spent every day gathering clues to get Saren's SPECTRE status revoked, to turn the darling boy of the Council of Law into a public monster. It had required her to step outside her comfort zone, asking for the help of others, collecting beings who saw things in the same light she did; that Saren and the Geth were a threat that needed to recognized and actioned upon. Detective Garrus Vakarian had been the biggest boon, being the Investigator-In-Charge initially towards the events on Eden Prime, having clues and leads that ended up garnering Shepard with the evidence she needed, having to verify and prove it to be genuine before going to the Three to have their little shit of a Turian exposed for the motherfucker that he was.

Nihlus' last words from the spaceport still played in her dreams, haunting her.

Now she was set to meet a male that was likely seen as a brother.

They continued down through the corridor and into the open-air atrium of Meridian Place, where the Iolla Water Gardens could be seen over the balconies, the Thessian-oriented meditative gardens with its Serrice-imported beach sand paths and Elcor Unity Statue in the center a popular destination for those with a botanical taste, a view that was worth seeing more than once. Jannie had taken the twins on the stroll when they were younger, Sara elated while Scott was bored looking at _flowers_ , but the memory of it still came to Jannie as she made her way to her scheduled appointment at the Apollo Cafe.

Sitting at one of the open-aired tables was a heavily armored male Turian, the color scheme black framed with red borders and underpanelling.

"That's him." Ryder said softly, her blue eyes finding the one out-of-place sapient within the Cafe, certainly no one else wearing such sophisticated and specially-authorized gear as the SPECTRE MasterGear Armor, said to be made of materials not accessible to the public or even normal manufacturers. As Jannie understood it, the armor was a masterpiece in its own right, a high percentage of it steeped in rare earths and exotic ceramics, blended together in a fashion that required sophisticated armor forge equipment and programs that were specifically written for the user. Rumor was that each SPECTRE had unique armor, custom-fitted and personally-modified to both taste and performance. Honestly, the redhead could completely believe it, having adapted her own armor to suit her needs. The Turian was sitting alone in the Cafe's foyer, and there was an obvious ring of seclusion around him, an unspoken respect of authority and nervousness amongst the citizens nearby. No one dared to approach or garner the attention of the Turian SPECTRE. _No one_. "Should we Chirp him first or just… surprise visit the Council Agent?" Sara had a twisted smile upon her face, in a good mood.

"Technically, we're co-workers. And he invited us." Jannie surprised, though she understood Sara's worry. As a Galactic Citizen, Sara Ryder was expected to know and obey CitLaw, and there were certain customs involving governmental authorities. Especially that of a SPECTRE. One didn't just approach a SPECTRE, and one never, _ever_ denied a SPECTRE anything they required. Anyone visiting the Citadel (legally) went through a brief on the laws and rules, and that was one of the first ones covered. Jannie walked forward, piercing that invisible bubble first as she approached the table that the SPECTRE sat at, taking a chair across from him, selecting 'Asari' as an orientation for her Human posture. The chair inflated with OmniGel in its cushions for lumbar support and leg configuration for a plantigrade sentient with an Asari/Human/Batarian/Drell/Quarian-styled upper torso. Shepard sat across from the Turian, his hazel ovaloid eyes upon her as she studied his features; dark chocolate plates and white colonial markings depicting the Niminies Colony of Trebin. His mandibles barely twitched at the sight of her in her Alliance Dress Uniform, the talons of his right hand wrapped around a drinking receptacle meant for Turian mouths. She couldn't see his left, probably wrapped around the grip of a pistol.

"Agent Rix." Jannie began simply, remembering some of that brief about SPECTREs from back when she was a kid. Technically, she didn't have to follow it to the letter, being a Council Agent herself. Unfortunately, she didn't know anything else. Really, she didn't know anything at all.

"Agent Shepard." The Turian's flanged, duel-toned voice spoke, nodding his fringed head once in acknowledgment. "You can have your friend join us. A Second is a good thing to have, especially for a beginning Agent." Avitus hadn't even looked behind him to see Sara standing a comfortable distance away, standing Shylock. The redhead beckoned her over with a glance, and Ryder reluctantly joined, a lifetime of rules about Council Agents being pushed to the side as she took to a seat as well. "It is good to see you once more, Sara daughter of Alec. It has been some years, but it good to see that you have found a place worthy of you in this galaxy, Sara Ryder."

"You have my thanks, Agent." The younger woman replied dutifully, nodding her head in acceptance.

"I have invited you to fulfill the obligations that Nihlus would have seen to." Council Agent Avitus Rix informed her, pulling from his lap a small box, contained and sealed. "Inside will be some basic equipment and instructions for you, as well as SPECTRE Access Codes and directions to some of our stores and safehouses should you require them. The main article of choice will be your MasterGear OmniTool, biometrically linked to your… DNA is the term?" Jannie nodded, her mouth going a little dry at such a sophisticated security protocol. Even N's didn't have that level of sophistication. "On it will be many files for you to peruse at your discretion and convenience, helping you in your endeavors for the Office of Special Tactics."

"Do I need a mentor?" Shepard asked, a little unsure. "I got the impression that Nihlus would be holding my hand until at least my induction, teaching me the things I need to know."

"That is true… but that time has come and gone, unfortunately." Rix replied, his tone subdued. "With Saren's actions, my involvement must remain… limited, both for your sakes and my own. I don't want there to be any political backlash that will hamper your investigation or mission, and… it is best I distance myself due to my association with my mentor." Shepard wasn't exactly pleased to hear that, but she at least understood that the Turian was doing his best to give her as little obstacles as possible. If the Systems Alliance or the Human public thought she was being taught by one of Saren's proteges? There would certainly be some political fallout. As Avitus said, she couldn't afford any obstacles. Well, more than what she already had. "The contents of this box will help you set up your network and give you what you need for the upcoming months. As I said, there will be instructions that are the accumulation of what a mentor would teach his protege, though sadly it is mere words instead of parting experience and wisdom. I'm afraid it is the best… I am allowed to do, and beyond that."

" _Vrack._ " Sara muttered, obviously getting the implication that Jannie herself realized. There was only one organization that could approve/disprove of a SPECTRE's actions. Someone had limited Avitus Rix from helping Jane Shepard, and he had exceeded that authority.

"I do have one question, sister." Rix spoke again, looking towards the Iolla Water Gardens that were behind Shepard, looking… nostalgic. "How did my brother die? Reports are mere words. I want to know."

"It will be a hard thing for you to hear, Avitus. It was hard for me to witness, and I only knew Kryik for a week at best." Jannie replied softly, doing her best to prepare the Agent for the tale on the demise of a man he just called _brother_ and completely meant it. Jannie looked to Sara, and the younger woman got the unspoken message, stepping away for a moment. The N7 looked to the SPECTRE, guessing that Rix was likely former Blackwatch, possibly even a 314 Vet. Shepard respected N's above others, but acknowledge that dedication in other species, Special Forces-qualified personnel that pushed themselves above and beyond the normal rank-and-file. "He didn't go well, not as he deserved."

"I still want to know."

"Okay." Jannie sighed, brushing back her hair with a hand out of nervousness. "We landed on Eden Prime after receiving the emergency beacon set up by the 2-12 Infantry. Nihlus dropped off first to recon the situation while I was tasked with retrieval of the Beacon. We learned later on that the assailants were Geth, and we only had sparse radio contact with Kryik, feeding each other updates but nothing else. About an hour or so in… I found his body." Jannie could still see it in her mind's eye, a hard way to go. "Nihlus… Nihlus was still _alive_ when we reached him, we must have been mere moments behind." She could remember seeing the wound, the gunshot to the back of the skull, blowing off a portion of the top of his skull and taking a fraction of his faceplates off. When she had flipped him over to check for a pulse she knew she wouldn't find, he had gurgled to life. "He had… words. God, I could see in his remaining eye that he knew he was going to die, but he named his killer to me." Rix's mandibles twitched quickly and violently, but only once. "He was betrayed and shot in the back of the head by a man he trusted, a man he called brother and mentor. That… that I saw in his eye, Avitus. That look of… soul-crushing hurt." Jannie just shook her head, wishing she could shake the memory. "I promised that I would find him and kill him, Rix. And I aim to be a woman of my word."

"Saren… hates Humanity." Avitus spoke softly, looking disturbed. "He had three proteges, and only Nihlus was not a Vet of the Incident. We… all shared the same sentiment; a disdain for your species. I suspect that was a contributing factor for his search for SPECTRES, all of us Turians with a grudge against Human Beings. I would go against Council edict to aid you to right the wrong that Saren has committed, as it is written in the Book of Valluvius, but… I fear that recusing myself would give you better aid than including myself."

"I get that. I'm not exactly a fan of Turians, though I am trying." Shepard nodded. Avitus had a huge conflict-of-interest, knowing his personal view was aligned with Saren's', if not the action. He feared his actions would taint her efforts. She understood. "Nihlus didn't like Humans? I wouldn't have guessed. When he selected me, he told me he didn't care what species I was. He was more interested in what I could _do_ for my species, to lead the way towards a better future for Humanity."

"Yes, that sounds like Nihlus. A fit remembrance for the male I knew." The Turian nodded his head. "He selected well, sister. He did not pick you based upon Turian values or what the galaxy would want. He picked you because he saw a path to a better tomorrow, one worth fighting for and dying for. Saren may have selected him for his views on Humanity at the time, but Nihlus… matured. In that, he was better than the rest of us."

"You said that Saren had three proteges? Where's the third?"

"Tibevius Victonius." Avitus Rix's mandibles quivered slightly. "I… do not know. And that disturbs me."

"With him?" Jannie wasn't accusing, but it seemed a likely scenario.

"It's a possibility, and a strong one at that." The Turian gave off a heavy sigh. "Saren didn't get to be the best taking foolish chances. He is Academy-educated, very intelligent, very cunning, and creates scenarios to drag his enemies into meeting him on his terms. Having a SPECTRE or two still in the Office of Special Tactics to feed him updates is an all-too real possibility, I'm afraid. The Council has deemed this Saren affair your responsibility and your responsibility alone. If another identifies themselves as a SPECTRE sent to assist you?

"Kill them. Immediately."

There was a nice comet of ice in Shepard's guts with that.

"Your Second? You trust her?" Avitus asked.

"Absolutely. I owe her my life. Twice, actually." Jannie replied immediately, looking to the standing form of Sara Ryder, giving it a smile as she stood sentinel, her eyes everywhere. "Known her since the day she was born. And… she's the best there is at what she does."

"I remember hearing of the young Human hatchling on a Skybulance, learning later on that she was the Angel of Illyeria. Academy Alumni, yes?" Jannie could only nod. "Good. She is a wise selection. A SPECTRE's Second is allowed near-total access, expected to continue on if an Agent cannot, knowing the mission and having access to the same weaponry and equipment. She cannot use SPECTRE Access Codes, but almost everything else is authorized. I have listed what is allowed, along with the necessary licenses and authorizations for the both of you to be armed and armored on the Citadel. That should be your first course of action, sister. You are likely a hunted woman."

"Yeah, I certainly got that impression." There had already been a couple attempts on her life during her investigation of Saren. She doubted that would stop with his SPECTRE status revoked. "I'll see to that first."

"I wish you luck, Agent Shepard. Believe me, you're going to need to stockpile as much of it as you can against the Bloody Talon."

* * *

Petty Officer Sara Ryder exited the Citadel Public Transit Authority X3M Contragravity Rental Vessel after parking in the CPTA Lot, disembarking from the pilots' seat after paying the Creds for her end-of-use agreement with the short-term rental, glad that her CitPL was still good. It was certainly more expedient to be able to fly to her actual destination instead of going to one of the Common CPTA Lots and having to walk anywhere from a kilometer to five to get where she needed. The gullwing doors closed behind her two passengers, Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay exiting as well as both Quarian Pilgrims more than agreed to come to the appointment that Sara had set up with the Lady of the Chamber. Having arrived in the Regency District, where the Embassies were located, not to mention the Tower Access Turbolift that shuttled those authorized towards the Citadel Tower, where the Judiciary Circuit, the Chamber of Governance, and the Council of Law. Anyone that was anyone in galactic politics and business wanted to be seen in the Regency District, to do business in the Regency District. One simply just walk on one of the most prestigious paths in the shadows of the mighty a pauper, after all.

Sara was currently wearing a Human-oriented business robe designed for a female, one of taste and expense. The Quarians she had to make do by decon'ing and deep-cleaning their EnviroSuits, having them polish and 'beautifying' their components and parts to an acceptable level. Thankfully, the suggestion had gone over well at the thought of them being presentable for the Lady Eloa'Varis. Well, that didn't hurt, either.

"Stay close." Ryder told the Pilgrims, probably unnecessarily, but she looked to their visors to make sure they understood. "Quarians are a very rare sight in the Regency District, and Humans aren't seen much more, either. Best behavior, C-SEC doesn't _vrack_ around, and their sick-sticks are faster than our explanations. Understand me?" Both helmets nodded quickly and efficiently. Sara rather liked the Quarians, and she would see to it that they were looked after. "Alright, let's go make our appointment." The Corpsman led them from the CPTA Lot and onto the expansive inner-tract boulevard of the Regency District, lined on one side with representatives of governments, mega-corporations, and institutions. Sara felt like she was home, wearing a robe instead of a uniform, walking the streets of her youth, seeing the familiar signs and sights of the Cit. The boulevard was populated with a variety of species, those traveling to and from the Regency District and is sites, the well-dressed and very well-to-do visiting the District for business or pleasure.

There was the Emporium ran by Opold, with an even dozen kiosks of businesses that vied for those dozen slots for the high-end business and investment purposes. Next to it was the Irune Financial Corporation, the largest banking institution in the galaxy, with a glittering neon tri-dimensional holographic projection of its logo. Further down was the Forum, the hub of the Galactic Stock Exchange, where traders and brokers bid and traded upon anything from stock, information, mineral rights, colonization investments, exchange rates, and futures. In front of it was a Starbuck's Kiosk, serving caffeine in both levo and dextro-chiliary, everything from coffee-oriented drinks to soda beverages. Humanity's galactic contribution, Sara thought with a snort. The line of businesses not only went down the length of the District, but upward as well, the first five levels devoted to commercial businesses, while the next twenty-five levels represented the most expensive real estate in the known galaxy, each domicile a palatal penthouse, many of them timeshares for some of the wealthier families, clans, and businesses that could afford their luxurious accommodations. Lightboards and sonic advertisements assailed the senses as light ribbons played above the walkways, streamers meant to attract attention of the consumer towards specific businesses while statistically-proved Muzak played sub-harmoniously to promote the purchasing of goods.

It was quite literally the very heart of galactic civilization, the center of the known universe.

Sara led the Pilgrims to an arching high-rise where an interior arcade dominated the lower floor, a variety of businesses and representative kiosks arrayed along the interior much like an Earth Bazaar, where one could find salespersons from almost every species there waiting and willing to serve. Sara merely walked by the businesses, coolly ignoring the questions and inquiries of the Asari, Salarian, Turian, Human, and even a Krogan shopkeeper as she led the Quarians towards the main entrance set deep within the building. Sara opened the entrance door for the Quarians, letting them inside as she followed in afterwards to see an exquisite lobby she hadn't seen in two years, manned by a Drell attendant and an Asari _maitre'd_ ; the Drell was new, the Maiden not.

"Good Light, _Seras_ Ryder." The Maiden said upon Sara's entrance, her tone perfectly joyful as she bowed to an appropriate degree. "The Lady has informed that you would be arriving with guest, and wishes for you to meet with her at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, _Seras_ Vayena." Sara bowed in return, knowing the proper etiquette for the Asari, having known the Maiden for years. "May you walk with the Goddess's grace." Sara moved through the small yet opulent lobby, passing by reliefs and caryatid statuses of Athame supporting the roof above them to reach the turbolift bay where half-a-dozen transporters were available. Sara smiled as she went to the last one, pressing the palm of her hand upon the biometric reader, letting it scan her DNA. The scanner chimed its acceptance as the turbolift door opened and Sara let the Pilgrims in first, entering afterwards to let the doors slide shut while Sara imputed the top floor as the destination.

"Now I must warn you," Ryder began, looking to the Quarians, who were practically bouncing on their toes in excitement, "Lady Varis is very well-protected and guarded with extreme prejudice. The Twins are literally the scariest people I've ever met in my life." That was putting it mildly. Rahe and Jora'Tarrem were a rarity amongst Quarians; fraternal twins, much like herself and Scott. Supposedly, after their Pilgrimage, they had begun crafting mechanical advancements on their suits and had been selected to protect the most important person in their entire species, impressing the Migrant Fleet Admiralty Board. After having seen them and their many weapons and defenses, Sara completely agreed. "Not only are they Migrant Fleet Marines, but they are Tech Warriors of the Special Vessel Services, augmented with ExoSuits, weapons, defenses… you name it. I think they're pretty awesome."

" _Is that why you are carrying… gift bags?"_ Niki asked, seeing the two small parcels in Sara's hands, OmniGel-crafted gift bags containing items inside.

"They protect my friend, the least I could do would be to give them something to help them." The Corpsman reasoned as the turbolift reached the thirtieth floor of the high-rise, the entirety of it owned by the Lady of the Chamber. It was her manse, her place of business, where the fate of the Quarian Nation was upheld with honor and acumen. The door slid open and Sara was greeted by the sight to two rather monstrous-looking Quarian females with matching colored EnviroSuits, burnt orange with lime green tones for the borders of their _rielks_. Ryder could hear Tali suck in a breath through her vocalizer at the sight of the Twins; no real surprise there. "Rahe. Jora." Sara nodded to the appropriate Quarian in question in greeting.

" _I'm Rahe. She's Jora."_ The one on the left insisted.

"No, she's Rahe," Sara jerked her head to the one on the right, "and you're Jora."

" _How do you always tell, Sara'Ryder nar Citadel vas Skybulance-37?"_ Jora'Tarrem vas Sofis asked, folding her cybernetically-augmented arms over her torso, the servos of her EnviroSuit's WarFrame whirring slightly with the motion.

"Rahe's prettier." Ryder winked towards the Quarian in question, Rahe'Tarrem chuckling as her twin sister's orange-colored visor looked sharply to her older-by-four minutes sister. Truth of the matter was that it was a twin thing; she could always tell despite their identical suits. She just liked teasing them, giving them a different response every time. Even after years of service to the Lady of the Chamber, even when Eloa was but a small girl learning at her father's side, the Twins had always protected their charge. By the heavily augmented suits that they wore, the DuraFrame ExoSkeletons that practically encased their bodies as a means of both attack and defense, along with the many defensive and offensive capabilities, one needed only to look once to see how seriously they took their position. In their minds, they were guarding the most valuable person for their entire species, whose untimely death would likely bring ruin to Fleet and Nation. Both would die on top of a mountain of enemy corpses before letting their charge suffer a single harm. Two mountains, honestly. "With me are Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay, both Pilgrims that have accompanied the SSV _Normandy_ in its endeavors to erase the Geth from existence."

" _It is a pleasure to meet you."_ Tali'Zorah tilted her helmeted head forward, clasping her hands in front of her. Niki'Raan echoed the words and gesture as well.

" _I see our little Human healer has brought us more gifts."_ Rahe's silvery eyes spied the two gift-bags. _"What is it this time? Too small to be a plasma caster."_

"Melee weapons, for that up-close-and-personal touch." Sara winked at the bodyguards, handing a bag to each on of them. "I figured you could really intimidate the _s'kak_ out of some _bosh'tet_ with a pair of these. They're pretty much the second-most iconic weapon in Human history. Everyone's got guns and swords, but these?" The Corpsman let off a big grin. "Any Human would recognize them on sight. Everyone else will just learn the hard way."

Jora had already pulled hers out, finding it to be a wrist sheath as Rahe watched her younger twin sister close her fist… and a triple set of vertical blades extended an Imperial foot beyond her knuckles with an audible ' _snikt'_ , long and slightly curved. While originally designed for a five-fingered person in a comic book, Sara had figured out how to work it with a person with only two non-opposable fingers quite easily and keeping the same effect.

" _I think I'm going to like these."_ Jora commented, on the left. Rahe had pulled out a digital comic book, and swiped to the cover, pointing out the main character in question that the comic book was named after to her twin. His codename said it all. _"The… Wolverine?"_

"If someone gets handsie with you? You can always teach them respect with the hands-on approach with those babies." Sara pointed out as Jora put on the second wrist sheath, ' _snikt'_ ing out the second set of wolverine claws, and stood in a rather similar facsimile of the legendary mutant anti-hero.

" _Now you know what to get_ me _on my Suit Day, cousin."_ Niki told her purple-clad companion, bumping shoulders with her. _"So_ karsh _!"_

" _Movies, comic books, and weapons. You sure you don't want to link suit, Sara?"_ Rahe'Tarrem asked, her humor bleeding through her vox. _"You certainly know a way to a_ Serahs' _heart."_ Ryder coughed uncomfortably, knowing that Rahe was half-kidding. Problem was? One half of her _wasn't_.

"I am in a very satisfying relationship with a Matriarch who treats me with love and respect, Rahe'Tarrem." She wasn't exactly thrilled with blurbing that one out, but honestly she'd have less issues with Quarians seeing a Human with a relationship with a non-Human than she would with someone of her own kind. Really, it was just Humans and Asari who'd interject.

" _Well, good. Good for her, good for you."_ The Tech Marine on the right replied, her tone pleased. _"Tell her if she slips and breaks your heart? I'll burn that_ tuho _into plasmic goop. Like that one game you gave me."_ Ryder had completely forgotten that Rahe and Jora had _adored_ her gift of the _Fallout 4_ game a few years back. So much so that they tried reinventing some of the fictional weapons on it; looks _and_ mechanics. Telling a Quarian that she wasn't allowed to create a direct energy weapon (or worse, a plasmic-slurry acceleration weapon) was like trying to drown fire with Heavy Helium; it made them FTL the concept. As far as Sara was aware, they were still trying to make the T-60 Power Armor Suit.

" _Hey."_ Jora slapped her sister's shoulder playfully, her gauntlet-encased hand ringing against her older twin sister's ExoFrame. _"You promised sharing."_

"Please save me." Sara turned to Tali and dead-panned, completely serious. "If one of them comes with an autoinjector to take my bacteria for acclimation purposes? Pull the power core from their ExoSuits and run like hell. I'll pretend I can catch up." Niki only giggled at that.

* * *

 _Sha'ma_ Tali'Zorah nar _Reyya_ found herself walking into a palatal room that was oriented for business and visitors, dominated by the large duraglass transparent wall that let one see not only the Upper Presidium Ring curving upward through the view, seeing its circular plane extending from bottom to top of view, but also… she was guessing it was the Bachjret Arm perpendicular to the vista, extending to port, as well as the Citadel Tower; that one could see no matter where in the Cit they were. To starboard she could see Mid-Ring and Lower Ring of the Presidium, and if she craned her head to look at the upper and lower portions of the view to port, she knew she would see the Kithoi and Zakera Arms… or was it Shalta/Aroch and Tayseri? She would have to ask Sara'Ryder. Being Cit-born, she could probably identify a sub-Block instantly by sight like Tali could a Flotilla vessel. The view was beyond impressive, and Tali didn't need to be told that when the owner of the room sat in her seat with that at her back, it displayed a very powerful message to the visitor.

To say that the room was opulent was a misnomer; the daughter of Rael wasn't looking at the trappings of wealth of someone who was obviously very, _very_ rich. She didn't look upon the Thessian rosewood desk, the miniature auto-waterfall that graced one of the walls, the thick Calabsan cotton carpeting, the gilding of the _faux_ -support columns. No, what caught her eye were the absolute _priceless_ artifacts and treasures that graced the walls and shelves set about in the room, many of them set in stasis for preservation and longevity. She looked upon one tapestry upon the wall and sucked in a shuttering breath at the scene, a hand-stitched motif woven into fabric of a vista of a low-plains desert with a small domicile and a family standing in front of it.

Ancestors… Rannochian artifacts. The largest depository she had ever _seen_.

"I see that you find things to your liking, _Sha'ma's_."

Tali squeaked a little as she turned quickly and bowed to the speaker in question, her limbs nervous as her heart thumped to a faster beat, knowing exactly who the speaker was. Just the sight of an unsuited Quarian was indication enough, but only a blind fool wouldn't know of the face of the Race's last living noble line, their staunchest defender, their guardian, their Savior.

Lady Eloa'Varis nar Thessia vas Armali, the Lady of the Chamber, and the last Scion of the Rannochian Monarchy.

" _Mi'lady!_ " Both Tali'Zorah and Niki'Raan bowed and spoke at the same time at the sight of the AntiQuarian, slipping into the room through one of the side doors, walking with the grace of one who had likely been taught by Asari, as regal as any Matriarch. Just to see her? Tali knew she would never, _ever_ forget this moment.

"Arise, daughters of Rannoch." Tali gulped a little as she stood, looking upon the figure of Lady Eloa'Varis, her breath taken away. She had only seen a Quarian outside of their suit but a few times her entire life, but to see one _living_ without the need? That alone was a breathtaking event. But it wasn't just the sight of a rare unsuited Quarian, in which there were less than a thousand for a variety of reasons. Seeing the bluish tint of the Lady's skin? This wasn't one of the few who never returned to their people, eking out an existence in a outlaw sort of fashion, or one of the Exiles who had been voted for dismissal for a variety of reasons. No, this noblewoman came from a long line of those born on Thessia, the past nineteen generations calling the Asari homeworld home in name alone. Such length of time had changed them, evolved them.

Like the Asari, all AntiQuarians were Biotic.

Tali was nervous, of course. Lady Eloa'Varis represented the last living representative of their kinds' noble line, the Fifty Families having been killed fighting in the uprising, including that of the Monarch and his family. Quarian Nobility had died fighting the Geth to buy their people time to escape the slaughter, fathers and sons leading troops and House Guard to defend evacuees upon their personally-owned spacecraft, mothers and daughters giving guidance to refugees as they provided the final line of defense. Of the Fifty Families, only the Varis family was off-planet at the time, and only seven noble members had escaped death, too young to fight, babes handed to commoners by the grieving hands of their mothers. Those babes had been given to the Varis family for protection and education, the last of their lines, tied inexorably to the line of Gaulis Varis. For three hundred years, the Varis family had defended that what was most precious; Quarian people, Quarian legacy, and Quarian hope. They were their past, their present, their future.

And she was standing in front of their greatest champion.

Tali'Zorah remembered the news when Lady Eloa'Varis became the Lady of the Chamber, an act began by the Turians, but duplicitously enacted by the Human's Systems Alliance. Chamberlain Vian Torvan had 'bought' the seat that was to be Eloa's, pushing forth the need for a tie-breaker vote, but a tie-breaker only. Supposedly, he had threatened the Lady with political pressure from the Hierarchy if she did not align her vote with what the Turians wanted; the Chamberlain wanted the tie-breaker in his robepocket, so to speak. Yet the Turian Chamberlain had come too late, armed with a stick and not… what was the Human expression? Honey? Ambassador Anita Goyle had surmised what the Turians were going to do and had visited first, holding an hours-long conversation with the Lady Varis, having an offer that was too hard to pass up on; three dextro-chiliary worlds in Systems Alliance control. Fleet scuttlebutt said that Goyle hadn't even asked for AntiQuarian assistance, instead giving them the right to choose their own minds, but was willing to trade and compromise by letting the Quarians having access to the worlds Humans had little use for. When the vote for colonial right came and the vote tied once more, as it had six times prior, the Lady of the Chamber had _abstained_ her vote and told the entirety of the Chambers to (quote) quit acting like a bunch of hatchlings with their first fangs poking out. The vote had eventually gone to the Systems Alliance for the colonization of another planet, and the Quarians gained not only the use of three dextro worlds… but a seat in the Chamber of Governance itself.

Ever since then, the Quarian Nation and the Systems Alliance have had a rather interesting partnership in trading. _Vrack_ what the Hierarchy thought.

"I bid you all welcome to my home." Lady Varis smiled, her lips pulling upward to show small canine fangs dimpling her lower lip. "Come, sit and enjoy my hospitality. It has been too long since I have had the pleasure of honest company." A blue-tinged three-finger hand picked up a bell from the rosewood desk and rang it gently. Tali gently sat upon an available plush seat only to realize that it was a Quarian divan, and almost jumped out in fright. "You have no reason to be afraid, _Sha'me_ Tali'Zorah, daughter of Rael. That is actually a modern seat made by a small group of Quarians who are recreating Rannochian furniture so that they can pass the skills on for the day we can return home."

"It is lovely, and comfortable!" Tali exclaimed, more use to the benches of the Flotilla, to maximize on space while minimizing on resources. _Comfort_ was not a word used much in the Flotilla. The thought that there were Quarian furniture-makers touched her deeply. Her hands stroked the fabric, a touch regretful that she couldn't feel the quality or the soothing feel of it. Still, she got to see something she never thought she'd see. "Wait… you know my name, mi'lady?"

"I know the names of every Pilgrim who ventures the stars, so far from home yet never far from our hearts." Eloa replied as a suited male came in, Tali seeing a light-blue scheme to his livery-oriented EnviroSuit. A servant, she knew immediately. Quarians _vied_ to serve the Varis family, and any Pilgrim worth their parts hoped their gift was good enough to be recommended by their Captain to serve the Varis family. It was beyond an honor. "Rase? Two cups of Thessian Mint for Sara'Ryder and myself, and two sealed bottles of _quamish_ for our Pilgrims, please."

" _That's… a Rannochian tea!"_ Niki'Raan exclaimed with a squeak, shocking Tali as well. They were about to drink tea from _Rannoch_!

"It was not just paintings and literature that my family was able to preserve, _Sha'me's_." Lady Varis said with a knowing smile. "It pleases me to serve our people what they have been missing, to remind them of a home they have never known, of what we have lost." The smile was one of sadness, Tali knew. If they somehow won back Rannoch tomorrow… the AntiQuarians would not be able to live there. Their biologies had adapted to Thessia, the microorganisms in their bodies had changed. It would likely take a generation for Quarians to adapt back to their native home, but for the AntiQuarians? Thessia _was_ home. "Come! Let us talk of the present." The servant, Rase, returned quickly with two Thessian-styled cup and two sealed drink apparatuses, serving each of them. Tali took her sealed container with a word of gratitude, and waited to insert her umbilical fluid transfer tube until after Lady Eloa'Varis had begun sipping her own out of polite etiquette. "You have come seeking means in which to fight the Geth." It wasn't a question.

"That's correct." Petty Officer Sara Ryder spoke, taking a polite sip of her own tea. "I'm under no illusion that the Geth are only active in either Earth Space or Council Space. Two very public attacks occurred upon Prothean sites; one involved a recently unearthed Prothean Beacon, and another a Protheantologist. Since the Geth are not going to involve dialog like most nations even in the grips of war, the best we can surmise is that whatever the Geth want will involve ProTech. That's… scary."

"Indeed." The Lady of the Chamber replied, her silvery eyes looking thoughtful. "Most every species wishes to get their hands on ProTech, be it technology, information, or advanced research for obvious reasons. Yet the fear that the Council of Law invoke with the use of the Citadel Fleet limit most actions into the more covert kind; espionage, infiltration, theft. The last time a species or group acted so brazenly was perhaps a century ago, when Turian Separatists broke into a Hierarchy research facility, killed its employees, and absconded with megaCredits worth of artifacts and research. The response… was quite brutal." Tali didn't doubt that meant that SPECTREs had been sent to obliterate not only anyone and everyone involved, but likely anyone that might had even had some form of contact, no matter how benign. "The Treaty of Farixen and the Citadel Conventions are quite clear on the level of response when an individual or group were to partake ProTech in such a matter. What disturbs me is that the Council and the Chambers have left it in the hands of the Systems Alliance. This is clearly in the jurisdiction of the Council. Sending a brand-new SPECTRE and leaving it at that is a very telling tale."

" _Do… do they wish to have Humanity prove themselves in some fashion, mi'lady?"_ Niki'Raan asked, her tone a little nervous. It was the same thing that Tali had been thinking, honestly.

"No. Something else is afoot." The AntiQuarian replied, shaking her head. "The impression you have seems to be the lie the Council wishes the galaxy at large to believe, as if the First Contact War and the Skyllian Blitz weren't enough to show that Humanity will not back down from a fight, finding creative methods in success. The Geth were nearly responsible for the obliteration of a Garden World with the use of an Anti-Matter device, are wholly responsible for the unsanctioned removal of Prothean data from the Beacon, and are likely responsible for the destruction of the Beacon to prevent us from gleaning their motivations. That the Council would just… pass this off?" Eloa frowned. "Something is amiss. If such an action occurred upon a Hierarchy world, a Union world, or a Republican world? Even the Volus and the Drell would be pulled in to wipe the Geth out of existence. It is the Council's obligation to maintain the galactic status quo… and they are completely failing in that. Geth ships appearing in Council territory with no known routes? Bypassing patrols and defenses to attack deep into the heart of Council Space? Everyone show be screaming for the Councilors' heads. Instead… CNN reports that the attack on Eden Prime as a rogue actor leading non-Council forces to damage Human interests. Most in the galaxy are not even aware that it was the Bloody Talon that was implicated, nor that it was the Geth that assaulted your colony. As for Therum? Not a word at all."

"That is fucking _bullshit_." The Corpsman replied harshly, Tali noting that her body language went very hostile _very_ quickly. "Their vaulted pretty boy goes and courts a mistake the Council has made three hundred years and counting and they're going to sweep it under a rug? What is the Council going to say when the Geth deploy ten thousand units on an Asari colony? Or another 'minor' species?" There was no mistaking the scorn in the tone of her voice at the word _minor_. The Pilgrim didn't abuse Sara'Ryder her Human-centric view; everyone felt the same, after all. The Human woman took a deep breath to collect her emotions, a moments' pause to compose herself. "The Asari and the Salarians are going to do what they've always done; they're going to get someone else to do the bleeding for them. I wouldn't have lost my Marines if they had taken an active stance, done more than shove their crests straight up their midnights." Niki guffawed at that.

"I… had not heard that you lost your men, Sara. In that, you have my more heart-felt apologies." The Lady replied, her face genuinely sympathetic. "I doubt you are under any illusion that I have not followed your career. I was quite happy for you that you achieved what you wished for in your life. Our proud little Human Paramedic, as brave and as bold as any Frontline Barber-Surgeon or Special Vessel Services Tech Marine." There was a smile on the AntiQuarians' face for her friend. Tali reminded herself that they had gone to the Presidium Academy of Education together, where they had supposedly been friends. Likely, Sara'Ryder had been Eloa'Varis' only real friend; the only Human and Quarian standing together against the rest. "I cannot fault you for your logic upon the Asari and the Salarians. The Republic rarely fields their fleets outside Republican Space, and sends a few specialized Commando or Huntress units to clean up whatever bothers them discretely. The Union usually handles things before they are messes, knowing they are less likely to succeed when the real fighting begins. The Turians surprise me, though. War is practically their religious duty. To avoid a fight is unlike them, even if it involves a species they are not particularly fond of. This seems an almost exact reenactment of the Skyllian Blitz. You remember those days."

"The Chamber practically hoping we'd get grounded by the Batarians so someone could move in and make us a client-state?" The Engineer practically choked on her _quamish_ with that declaration. "We all know why the Council kept the Batarians around, even when they practiced an illegal way of life under the Conventions. The public might not know it, but the Batarians were their goon squad, taking care of the trash and enslaving any that dared defy them. With the Batarians pulling stakes and the Systems Alliance not willing to play the thug, the Council is punishing us. We lose more colonies or more vessels, we're going to have a hard time recovering, and the Hierarchy is just _itching_ for an excuse." Ancestors! Now that it had been spelled out for her, Tali could see why Sara thought that way. What was worse? Lady Varis wasn't arguing with her or correcting her, either.

"Which is why you're here."

"Which is why we're here." Sara agreed, taking another sip of her tea. "The Council deemed the Geth a _publicae calamitate_ three hundred years ago, willing to have a ticking time bomb in their back yard. Honestly, the Geth could act and control much of the Terminus without anyone knowing if they desire. Instead of solving it, the Three ignored it, much like they ignored the plight of the Quarian people. Burying one's head in the sand doesn't mean the problem goes away just because one can't see it. Now the Council has deemed it a _Human_ problem, washing their hands of involvement once more." That Tali knew. "But that doesn't mean we can't seek help in other ways. Like intelligence and anti-Geth weaponry.

"We're going to need Q-Tech, Eloa. Anything and everything pertaining to fighting the Geth."

"I'll be honest, Sara. This is not a fight one ship can win." The Lady of the Chamber began, setting her tea down. It was quite obvious that the Lady of the Chamber knew more than most, as was her job. "All of Humanity's ships combined will not succeed against the Geth Armada. Even we do not know their exact number, but at the very least, we suspect at least a dozen full Fleets with a likely dozen smaller actionable mini-fleets for screenlines and opportunistic attacks. And you speak of vessels that have no living components on the inside. No need for atmosphere, pressurization, gravity, organic supplies. The entirety of a Geth ship can be devoted to war. Creating a hull breech serves nothing; one must either cause catastrophic systems damage, score a mobility kill, or obliterate the vessel in question. Holing a hull or tearing out some decking will not render them ineffective."

"I know, but then who if not us?" The Human woman asked, shrugging her shoulders. "Our Fleets are trying to protect our colonies. The Big Three are going to sit on their hands, and the minor species are likely seeing the same issues we are, and know they aren't ready. We don't go forth, the Geth _succeed_ , and whatever it is that they want frightens me."

"Which is why I will help." Eloa'Varis replied with a nod. "Not just because you happen to be fighting the enemies of the Race, but because for once we now have a chance to ascertain and understand what the Geth are truly capable of, something more than small raids and acquisitions. You will face the Geth, and I will make sure that you and your crew are more than adequately armed and armored with potent weaponry that we have invented to use against the Geth. It will give us a chance to see how well it works." There was a hint of a smile there. "But I know you, Sara'Ryder. That brain of yours wants _science_ as a weapon, creating and crafting something to aid you in your endeavors. You never settled for anything less than the best, after all."

"I have a list of materials and ideas." The Corpsman looked to Tali, who remembered that she had a datapad to give. The Pilgrim shyly pulled the datapad from one of her EnviroSuit pouches and meekly handed it over to the Scion of the Varis Family. Lady Eloa thanked her with a smile, and Tali was glad her blush was covered by her mask as she sat back down while the AntiQuarian began reading over the contents.

"I guess I know how you are aware of our ionization weaponry." Eloa looked to the Pilgrims with a smile. "Much of it is in prototype phase, though we are crafting more every day. I see you wish to purchase some. That is easily done. Magnetic ammunition, though? That is a strange request… I do not think we have ever contemplated that. Seeking rounds?" The AntiQuarian asked, looking up.

"Actually, I'm thinking more along the lines of interference rounds against Alpha Primes." The Corpsman replied, making Tali wonder if that would actually work! "We know that connectivity is going to be their strong suit. We knock out their ability to communicate, they will suffer more than an organic will. I'm looking at highly-ferrous ammunition blocks that get magnetized with the use of Eezo and magnetic rails, creating static interference when they come into an electrical field. The math is sound, but I fully intend to test it out to see if it works. I also have the template for a Faraday Grenade that we cobbled together on Therum to shut down Geth communications. Tali wrote the script." That had the Engineer blushing again as the noblewoman looked upon her.

"She is her father's daughter." Eloa commented, getting Sara to look at her contemplatively, a knowing smile on her Quarian-like lips. "Most of these items I can have delivered to your vessel with relative ease. The intelligence part? I will need some form of secured contact so that we can send and receive data."

"It might have to be e-mnemonic couriers." Sara replied thoughtfully, mulling it over. "The Geth are in the ExtraNet, so we have to be careful what we store on servers. One-time-datapads are sufficient, as are physical storage devices. Hell, we can go old-school and start using pen-and-paper. But if we need protection, then we need to look into couriers we can trust."

"Agreed, and I already have some on hand." The AntiQuarian replied with a nod. "I will of course need somewhere to send such intelligence."

"Admiral David Anderson." Ryder immediately replied, Tali knowing of the name from the _Normandy_. He was originally the _Normandy's_ Captain, and the Pilgrim had seen him once or twice, a huge Human Being with skin the color of _wampa_ bark. "He's currently in charge of SPECTRE Operations through the Human Embassy. Him… and nobody else. Anyone else asks? Ignore them."

"Captain David Anderson, of the Human Embassy's Diplomatic Security Services? I know of him. A man of honor and integrity." Lady Varis nodded thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, he is the… adopted sire of your Aunt Jane, yes?"

"He adopted her as his daughter, yes." Ryder nodded, only a slight correction. "I would trust him with more than just my life, my friend, as I trust you."

"I would expect no less, Sara'Ryder." The Lady of the Chamber stood, Tali and Niki standing as well as Sara raised herself from her chair, and much to the Quarian's shock, _embraced_ the Lady of the Chamber! It was a strange sight to see, an AntiQuarian and a Human so… close. And yet Tali'Zorah thought she understood. Against the adversity of the galaxy, they had stood together, forging a friendship under the most unlikely of circumstances. A Quarian noblewoman and the daughter of a Pathfinder, a strange sort of kindred spirits, an appointed rebel and a killer angel. "Look after yours, Angel of Illyeria, and may your enemies worry at the sound of your tread."

"And may your search lead to desert plains and walled gardens under the light of Tikkun."

* * *

Not in a million years did she ever think she'd earn her 'seven'. She decided to take a three-hour pass to celebrate in a nicer sort of fashion by going to a club; a real one. It had taken her about twenty minutes of looking through the CitNet to find an ideal location that would suit what she really wanted, figuring that someplace like the _Cit_ would have what she wanted. Drinking was all well and good, but that wasn't what Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams wanted to do in order to congratulate herself. Sometimes hitting the bar hard was appropriate, but not for this. So instead she decided to indulge herself with something a little more cultural and classy, so she treated herself to something she hadn't been able to do in several years.

A poetry club.

It was Late Light on the Cit, what they called nighttime on the massive Prothean space station when Ash walked into Alshar, a multicultural club that was oriented towards open-mic poetry and readings, a sort of fusion between a beatnik bar and a Human coffee shop where (no surprise) Starbuck's Coffee was indeed on the menu. The colonial woman walked in to see that the club was about half-full, a comfortable number that showed that it was lively enough not to be crowded or filled with shitheads, and that suited Ash just fine. She wanted a real evening of relaxation and enjoyment that didn't involve obliterating liver cells with alcohol, enjoying a love of literature along with something nice, perhaps a glass of wine or brandy, being able to actually sit down and relax without being hit upon by every man in the bar who somehow didn't have their Gaydars functional, or thought that scoring with a lesbian was even more of a challenge and conquest. So when she walked into the club wearing a plain t-shirt and slacks, Ash knew that she had more-or-less dressed… differently for the occasion, seeing that most of the Humans in the club (and on the Cit, in fact) wore those suit robes that were semi-familiar with the Turians, Salarians, and Asari. Now she understood why some Plex advertisement pop-ups shot out robe deals from clothing manufactures when no one on a colony would be caught dead in one. Great, she looked like some colonial rube who just fell off a John Deere.

Williams found an available table to sit at, blissfully empty as she took to an available chair, amused that it queued up a selection at her table lightboard menu to orient itself for her posture for comfort. Ash winced at the fact that 'Human' wasn't an actual option, seeing 'Digitigrade' and 'Plantigrade' for the lower torso, and then 'Asari', 'Salarian', 'Turian', and 'Volus' as options. Well, she was none of those things, she thought darkly as a Chirp on her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool came up. Ash looked at it, surprised to see that Petty Officer Sara Ryder had Chirped her.

 **SaraRyder**

#AngelIllyeria

Pick 'Asari'.

 **SaraRyder**

#AngelIllyeria

Thessian-centric, I know. Welcome to the bottom of the barrel!

That had Williams snort as she picked 'Plantigrade' and 'Asari', and felt the chair conform to her posture and… okay, damn, it did feel right with its lumbar support and straight shins. How had the Angel known? Ash looked up from her table's digital surface menu and scanned the club to see that Sara Ryder was indeed in the same location, sitting at a more secluded table… with company. The Soldier recognized Professor Irissa T'vara, the Prothean expert that they had rescued off of Therum, sitting beside Sara like… well, like they were on a date. Ash never would have guess that the Angel of Illyeria was an Asariphile. She had… mixed feelings about that one as she saw both Ryder and T'vara give her a pleasant wave of acknowledgment. Williams returned the wave in a semi-subtle manner, respecting their want for privacy on their… date. It couldn't be anything but.

"I see that some of us do have some more refined tastes."

Ash was a little startled to see Doctor Liara T'soni show up at her table, holding a glass of what she assumed was wine.

"Mind if I sit here? I do love literature, and being able to converse about it with a fellow connoisseur is more agreeable, do you believe?"

"I… yeah, sure." Williams replied a little haughtily, not really sure what to do. The young Thessian Doctor sat at a chair across from her, quickly picking the posture options on the table's electronic menu as Ash noted something. "I take it you lived on the Cit before? You did that without even looking." Ash pointed out, looking at the digital menu in front of her with its Standard Alliance English translation, obviously having interacted with her OmniTool for language preference, while Liara's had been in Thessian script, what they called logogrammatics, as Williams understood it.

"I in fact went to the Presidium Academy of Education for five years, living on the Citadel for that time. The _Matriarch_ felt it wise that I receive the best education possible." There was no mistaking the acidic scorn in the Doctor's voice when she had said 'Matriarch'. Ash knew that Liara meant her mother, Lady Benezia T'soni. During the After Action Review of the rescue mission on Therum, the ground team had learned of Doctor T'soni's rejection of her mother (and family) decades before, some sort of falling out that had the Maiden disowned from both the family and her entitled inheritance. As Ash understood it, the decision was shared equally, Liara accepting the act fully and renouncing her claims personally as well. It was public record in fact, showing up on the Artarva Network if one looked it up on happened must have been quite bad, though Liara didn't speak of it at all. Williams assumed that the Skipper knew the basic facts, enough to prove that Liara's claims were true and had nothing to do with her mother or the actions that occurred on Eden Prime or Therum. Then again, Krogan had been sent to kidnap her, after all.

"The way Sara and the Skipper talk about it, the Academy sounds about as equal as a prestigious college, but meant for teenagers." Agent Zevin Raeka and Detective Garrus Vakarian had gone to the same school, and were in rather lofty positions themselves, as Williams understood it. Hell, Saren Arterius went as well, and had been the youngest nominated Turian Council Agent. It seemed to be the equivalent of going to Harvard, Cambridge, Oxford, or Pierre and Marie Curie but at a Secondary Gymnasium level. What had XO Vanderloo called it? _The School of Unsolvable Questions?_ Crew scuttlebutt was that Sara Ryder, while working as a _paramedic_ , solved Boolian Theory. Ash had to look that up, fumbled understanding what the question actually meant, and finally realized that Doc had answered a two-hundred year old question that stumped everyone else before… at seventeen. _Holy fucking shit_ didn't begin to describe just how smart the Angel had to be when she cracked a question confounding some of the greatest Human minds for two centuries while at High School. Doctor Liara T'soni was a full Doctor at like… a hundred, when most Asari normally didn't steep into such things during their Maiden years, as Ash had been told by both Sara Ryder _and_ Detective Vakarian. That meant the Protheantologist had her shit together instead of stripping at bars for Creds like the rest of her age group.

"That is an accurate assessment." Liara nodded. "Are you not going to order yourself a drink? I did not wish to interrupt you, but when I saw you…" The Asarikin went quiet for a moment, her eyes shifting over to the table that contained the Corpsman and the Professor. "I saw your face when you saw Professor T'vara and Chief Ryder together. You do not approve?"

"It's… complicated." Williams winced as she finally looked at the digital menu showing on the table's surface, finally ordering herself a glass of moscato after a moment or two looking at the wines. "Mind you, you'll probably hate my explanation considering that, being an Asari, you'll be targeted." Ash's smile was slightly twisted with sourness.

"I did ask, and I will listen."

"Do you know how hard it is to be a Human woman when you fling yourselves at anything and everything?" Williams asked, taking Liara slightly aback. "The Asari claim so much, how melding is _not_ sex, you are _not_ women, that you're so _advanced_. And then you can find Maidens at every bar revealing practically every decimeter of their bodies, flaunting it, melding with everything under the stars, stripping and whoring their way through the galaxy while smugly reminding us all that you're somehow the most superiorly-evolved race in the galaxy." Fuck, that had turned into a mini-rant. "Sorry, Doc. That… doesn't actually include you. You have a great profession and you act with respect and knowledge. I'm just… tired of seeing Asari coaxing men and women with their charms and smiles, turning Humans into pets or worse." Her eyes flashed over to where Sara and Irissa sat. The way they were conversing and looking to one another? No, it didn't look to be the case that Ash thought.

"I wish I could say that your opinion was the only one voice as such, but I am afraid it is not. Not you as a person, or even you as a species." Liara replied sadly. "I was… aware that the Professor and the Chief were enjoying each others' company on Therum within a week or so of Sara's arrival on planet. I can confirm that your… fear of Professor T'vara treating Ryder in such a fashion is quite far off the mark. Amongst our culture, it is considered… unseemly for a Matriarch to be seen with anyone not of our species, Sergeant. Many Asari would see that scene," the Asarikin nodded her crested head towards the Matriarch and the Corpsman, "as quite scandalous on Irissa's part. The Professor obvious cares little of current thought and convention of our species. I approve for much of the same reasons you have mentioned, Sergeant."

"That's… huh." So Liara _wasn't_ a hypocrite. "I know that everyone's got their less-than shiny points when it comes to species and whatnot; Humanity's far from perfect. But I just…" The colonist tried to find the right words to say to make her point without sounding like some racist bitch. "I guess that the Asari are like a line ender, you know?"

"Line… ender?" T'soni's head tilted to one side in curiosity, needing an explanation.

"Sara's with Irissa, that much is obvious." Williams explained. "It seems genuine, and… well… I have a hard time accepting it, but she seems happy so I keep a lid on it." Liara nodded, getting that much, at least. "I imagine that sooner or later things will get a little more intimate and there'll be wedding bells and babies involved. _Blue_ babies."

"Not a Human child." The Protheantologist realized. She got it.

"I can tell that Doc is smart as hell, and probably a good deal more than I realize." Ash continued. "She was the first Human born on the Citadel, got a Gold Ribbon at thirteen, went to the toughest school in the galaxy, became like the first Human Paramedic for the CitEMS. She's exemplary! She's one of those few in a generation whose light outshines the rest of us, pushes us forward and becomes someone of note for others in the future to follow."

"But…" Liara slowly interjected, looking to the couple in question, "that will be passed onto an _Asari_ daughter is what you are implying."

"Yes."

That had the Doctor sit back thoughtfully as a waitress, a Human woman, came by with Ash's wine. The Sergeant First Class took a sip, enjoying the apricot wine's flavor as Liara thought over what she had said. And Williams knew that Liara was smart as hell, too. While she wasn't worried about saying the wrong thing, _per se_ , she was more worried that the point she was trying to make would be misinterpreted.

"It does make me wonder, how many Asari have had sires of different species?" The Doctor said out loud, still thinking. "You may not be aware of this, but there is a serious taboo about being _pureborn_ ; a daughter of two Asari." A cyan-colored hand waved at herself, indicating that Liara T'soni was the child of two Asari. "I grew up with this stigma, fellow students chiding me of my parentage, making me feel ashamed that… well, for tens of thousands of years of proper propagation. As if I had done something wrong."

"Yeah, that's pretty fucked." Ash snorted, not getting that at all. Well, it use to be a bad thing to be in a relationship with a person of different ethnic backgrounds, using words to suppress whoever was the minority while the majority oppressed said minority with laws and violence. "We use to do that, too. With cultural heritage; people of different color based on geography. We've moved on from that, thankfully."

"Asari philosophy states that a union of two Asari that brings a daughter into the galaxy is… ill-advised due to the fact that nothing is gained from the relationship; no traits, no genetic diversity." Liara continued. "Obviously, this viewpoint was created after our First Contact with the Salarians. But it makes me wonder; who was the first to try? And why was it so readily accepted? This was only less than three thousand years ago, after all." That had Williams snort, until she realized that was… well, probably only six or seven generations for an Asari, as oppose to about two hundred or so for Humanity. First Contact for the Asari could still be passed by word of mouth, a story told from grandmother to granddaughter… and then that granddaughter telling her own child, living today. Ash herself was born right before the First Contact War, and knew of it from her grandfather. What would she tell her own children of an experience she had lived through at a year or two of age? "I wonder if there is more to this philosophy that we realize."

"It's victory through procreation." Williams pointed out. "Catholics on Earth did that for centuries. Made contraceptives against their religion so they would have more kids than Protestants did… outpopulating them. To this day, you still see the effects of it, where there are much more South Americans and other Catholic-heavy populations than most European counties and Protestant-heavy countries. If you can't win through war or politics? You drown them in bodies."

"That… is a stark point-of-view. Not necessarily incorrect." The Xenopaeleosociologist pondered. "I believe I have read somewhere of the Hierarchy feeling much the same way when they first joined the Council, an Asari-written opinion that suggested that the Turians were short-sighted at such a viewpoint. Yet… I think you realized something we as Asarikin have done. We have all but committed an act of silent war by pulling persons from their species, denying them a chance to propagate and add to their species while adding to our own. We take those traits and genetic diversity from a native species and incorporate it into our own instead. It is… genetic theft."

"Okay. Damn. That's what I said, but a whole hell of a lot smarter." _Genetic theft_ was a phrase that had Ash shivering slightly. But Liara had nailed it right in the head, hadn't she? "To think I had come here to enjoy a bit of poetry and an open-mic night. Instead? Philosophy. Who knew?"

"I did not suspect that you enjoyed poetry, Sergeant. It shows that beneath the surface of what we see lies something deeper, something worth investigating." The Doctor surmised, bringing her wine to her turquoise lips. "I guess it would be no surprise to know that I am a lover of literature myself. I have read more than a few classical works over a variety of species. Have you?"

"Mostly Human literature. Wouldn't even know where to start with the others." That seemed to be the polite thing to say. Ash wasn't about to bone herself up on Turian classical literature.

"I would actually suggest Salarianime." The Asarikin recommended, looking slightly amused as Williams' jaw dropped slightly at… _Salarian Anime?_ "I must confess that there is this wonderful show about a Turian who finds an OmniTool on his school grounds, in which whenever he inputs a name and thinks of that person, they die. It is called _Death Chirp_ , and I am rather addicted to it." Ash watch Liara's cheeks grow… bluer. Oh, that was how Asari blushed!

" _Death Chirp?"_ Williams felt her sense of humor sparking up. "And here I thought you were all refined and cultured, Doc. But underneath that Protheantologist exterior lies a little _otaku_." Surprisingly, that word translated despite being Japanese, the Thessian blushing again. "Tell you what, Doctor. You pick a movie, then I pick a movie and we'll call it cultural studies."

"Oh? And what would you pick, Ashley?" That… was the first time Doctor T'soni called her by her first name. Had she ever called the Asarikin Liara?

"Something right up your alley, Doc." Williams winked and smiled. " _Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark_."

* * *

Author's Notes: Welcome to the Cit. As it was a rather big deal in the Trilogy, I wanted to make an exclusive ARC involving the Cit, to show off a little, but also to bring some pieces, characters, and ideas into play. Because they will matter later. There is, after all, a rather big battle somewhere near the end.

Meridian Place is a Canon location; seen in Mass Effect 3, it is known as the Presidium Commons as a destination, but its named over one of the shops as Meridian Place. It is home to some shops, the Apollo Cafe, and a C-SEC Station.

I made a big change with Nihlus' death; he didn't immediately die. I went with the mentor/student death scene you see in movies, where someone gets that last 60 seconds of sage advise while a bullet buries itself in their guts (thanks, Qui'gon, for telling Obi-wan to fuck it all up for the galaxy!). So Nihlus gets to name his killer to Shepard, instead of some lazy smuggler.

Avitus Rix was a Turian SPECTRE who… 'retired' because of Saren's actions in 2183. He felt tainted by the ordeal, and quit. Instead of a bitch move, I came up with something a little more… personal. Avitus knows he is tainted, and thinks that anything he does will stop/prevent Shepard's mission. I think this makes more sense, though I tried to convey that the decision wasn't entirely his own.

I wonder if the Council has a 'one riot, one Ranger' policy where multiple SPECTREs aren't on a singular mission. The idea of a Second makes sense though; despite Hollywood's depiction of such movies like John Wick plowing through guys like so much wheat, one man cannot do everything. Time, calories, bullets… you would just run out or get mobbed.

Starbuck's in space? I've been toying with the idea of this; if Humanity were to be dropped in the middle of a galactic empire surrounded by species more technologically-advanced than they, what would be seen as a positive? So I thought (as a joke) making 'caffeine' a unique item of Earth, and the caffeinated drink the most popular Human item. So Starbuck's and energy drinks (so fucking popular in our day) are now galactically popular items, and you'll see it referenced in the Cit a good deal. Strangely enough, I've been doing this running joke since 2015 with Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope. Why so serious?

I stole a line from 'Serenity'. Because twins do this. Fanti's cuter, btw.

The second most iconic Human weapon, the Wolverine Claws? Well, yeah? #1? Lightsaber. Who wouldn't want to see Sara try to make a lightsaber. I already showed her making Tech Armor. And who wouldn't want a suit of T-60 Power Armor?

Suit Day? Birthday for a Quarian… except it's the day they leave their natal bubble and wear their EnviroSuit for the first time, going from child to young adult.

Shalta/Aroch Controversy - There are five Wards/Arms of the Citadel… but six names. Doctor Chakwas tells you in ME3 that she was working research in the Shalta Wards, while later on after the Cerberus Coup Citadel News Network reports disturbances in all five wards and names them… one of them being Aroch. CDN wikia claims that this is a historical quirk lost to the passage of time. I'm going with another explanation; the Asari and Salarians initially landed on Shalta/Aroch, and both named it before meeting one another for First Contact. Thus it gets both names thanks to the diplomatic skills of the Asari deciding to share.

For the name of the poetry club (Alshar), this is in fact the Romanized spelling of 'poetry' in Arabic, the only other real language I know well-enough besides English. Yes, I'm a white male non-Muslim American that knows a fair deal of several dialects of Arabic, mostly Iraqi with a little Dari and Pashto mixed in. Care to guess why?

Plex - The semi-Canon Google Search Engine. To 'plex' is a verb. It means to get a clue.

Asariphile - Someone into Asari or Asari culture. Surprisingly, actor Samuel L. Jackson is a noted Anglophile (very in love with all things British) as a reference, not merely someone who just 'dates' Asari.

Yes, Salarianime! Stolen completely from Daia's Asari Wikia on Apricity-wikia. Good for a lot of add-on's and extra info on a great range of subjects. Semi- to non-Canon.

 _Death Chirp_ does in fact share the same basic premise as _Death Note_. No, I don't watch either of them. ;-) Still stolen from Daia's Asari Wikia, though it's _Death Omni_ there.

Otaku - Japanese. It has a few meanings. I believe it means 'home' or 'inside' literally, but current culture means 'nerd' or 'fanboy'. Originally associated for anime-viewers back in the 80s for the original RoboTech series or Macross series, now 'otakus' are everywhere, and it is now a positive word as oppose to its original negative connotation.

ME3 joked with Liara being a 'dinosaur hunter' with Garrus commenting on this… like a Turian would know what a dinosaur is. On the other hand, Liara is an archaeologist who specializes in cultures (technically a paleontologist)… and I've nicknamed her 'Indy' for years now, since Mass Effect vs. Aliens 2: Valkyrie Rising. A fedora and a bull whip may be involved.


	17. Center Of The Known Universe, II

_The savior of the galaxy is a Ginger. We're all going to die._

 **Domicile 2209, Celice Park Tower, Ringside District, Block 0220 (Skyward), Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 1, 2183**

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder woke up in the morning in paradise.

That wasn't exactly true of course as the Human woman found herself lazily opening her eyes to look upon a fresco upon the ceiling, a motif of a world long since gone; Ancient Thessia. The work depicted several scenes blending into one another in a sort of chronological order of ascendancy, much like the ancient Sistine Chapel. Sara could see ancient Asari huntresses hunting game, dressed in the skins of animals and armed with light-lances and songblades, the depiction molding to the first proto-nations on Thessia. Sara looked above her as she laid in bed, gazing upon Thessia's history as it morphed from the War of Queens, to the Unification of the Matriarchy, to the Great Calamity, to finally Thessinaut Commander Dalanasa T'mori's discovery and landing upon the Citadel. From an archaeological point-of-view, the ceiling was a work of both history and art.

It didn't surprise Sara at all that Professor Irissa T'vara would have such a ceiling in her bedroom.

The Human woman slowly got up out of bed to find herself curiously alone, knowing that her Asari paramour was indeed in, but not in the bed that they had shared last night. True to her word, Irissa had offered her domicile for Sara's convenience while at the Cit, and the Corpsman had tentatively taken the Professor up on her offer. It was a big step on Sara's behalf, never having a 'sleepover' before (what Auntie had jokingly called it yesterday when Sara had made the official request for overnight shore leave). Irissa had taken Sara out on a date, their first real one, going to a nice friendly club where poetry readings and civil get-togethers were the theme. They both had a wonderful time together, and had stayed out late into the night cycle of the Cit, talking, sipping wine, and listening to various people taking advantage of open-mic night, some of the works inspiring, while some were down right silly. Sara had never done anything of the sort, and had found it to be charming and enjoyable. The evening had ended with the both of them tumbling into the Professor's bed, a night of Joining and passion that had left Sara satisfied on quite a few levels.

Getting dressed with a spare change of clothes that she had brought, Sara left the magnificent bedroom that was quite Asarikin-oriented to pad into the main portion of the domicile, to find that while she certainly wasn't alone, it wasn't Professor Irissa T'vara that she found herself looking upon in the main room of the Professors' Cit Condominium. Ryder felt her heart jump up in her throat for a moment at the sight of _another_ Asarikin lounging upon a plush chaise couch, reading prosaically from a SMARTpaper, obviously a Cit-oriented news media publication. The Asari in question was a Maiden based upon the centurymarks upon her face, colored silver, and dressed in a more business-like robe that, while form-fitting, was of appropriate taste and style. The fact that it went to her collarbone and didn't have openings or windows to show of anatomical portions of her body said much of her. The Corpsman was just glad that her spare set of clothes were at least casual and decent for unexpected company, a Cit-appropriate robe that was Human oriented for normal day-today affairs that was of a suitable color scheme. She just wished she had worn her bra.

Sara found herself looking upon Irissa's only daughter, Asha T'vara.

"Good Light to you." Sara began, getting the Maiden's attention as her aquamarine eyes went from the SMARTpaper to her, a small twitch of the Asarikin's lips as the Maiden set the paper down on a nearby end table as she stood, automatically smoothing her robe as they both approached one another for greetings. Sara bowed appropriately to the Maiden, knowing the correct posture and angle for a respectful meeting with someone one had never met before, as Asha did the same. "I am Sara Ryder. I… was not expecting company."

"Asha T'vara. My fault, honestly." The Maiden replied, her tone light with a voice that was so much like her mothers'. "Mother told me of her ordeal on Therum, and I decided to take some personal time off from my profession to visit her. Discovering that her life was in danger and that she narrowly avoided death at the hands of the Geth was a startling realization I could have done without. Still, the lesson has been learned, and I wished to reconnect with her."

Sara sadly knew what Asha was talking about.

For almost a century, Irissa had been bonded to a Turian male named Janus Tiberix, an antiques dealer and noted researcher in the field of Turian paleontology. From that union came Asha, their daughter. When Janus had passed away from natural causes at the ripe old age of one hundred and sixty-three, his Asarikin daughter had just begun her first real profession; exotic dancer at the Blue Light; a club in the Bachjret Arm Outer Tract, in the Lower Wards. Unfortunately, Asha, as headstrong as a young Maiden could be, had gotten in way over her crest into activities and situations that normally got one arrested for a good length of time or killed before moving onto her next profession; an off-the-books mercenary. Working for an outside-Cit-Space private military company known as the Songblades, after the ancient Asarikin bladed range weapon, Asha spent a century and a half aiding smugglers, pirates, hostile takeovers, and gang wars throughout the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems, wherever the Creds were good. Somewhere along there, mother and daughter had a serious falling out, and Sara suspected that there were parts of the story that she wasn't aware of. She had respected Irissa's decision not to speak of it and didn't inquire further.

Irissa hadn't seen or talked to her daughter in well over a century. And now she was here, out of the blue, as it were.

'Awkward' just about summed up what Sara felt, meeting her lovers' estranged daughter for the first time.

"I'm glad that you did. Some don't get that chance, and live with regret." Sara thought of her Marines, their lives given to save the Serrice and Oxford Teams sent to the dig site on Therum. None of them certainly got to have a last-minute goodbye to their families, whatever correspondences or vids they had sent prior unknowingly being their last. That knowledge had been reinforced with the sight of Anna Holodansk, Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk's sister, who had been present for the Memorial for Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment (1B3/7), dropping a childhood still of herself and her younger brother into the empty bottle of Degresser. That could have been Scottie doing that for her. "I… ah… was wondering where Irissa went."

"A little uncomfortable?" Asha's brow twitched upward, the Maiden folding her arms in front of her in an Asari posture that usually meant smugness. She was a merc, after all. "Understandable, honestly. I had contacted her Early Light of my pending arrival, and she is collecting First Meal preparations." Ah, Irissa was going to make breakfast. "She said that you might awaken before she returned, though…" the Maiden's lips twitched upward into a self-deprecating smile, "…she might have mentioned that you would likely sleep in later due to last night." Ugh! Asari and their lack of taboo on all things concerning sex and sexual activities! The last thing Sara wanted was to talk about her love life to her paramour's mercenary _daughter_. Awkward didn't even begin to cover it! "She… looks happy." Asha said thoughtfully, studying the Corpsman, checking her out in a more familial manner, obviously sizing up the Human who was in a relationship with her mother. "I remember the last time she looked this content. When my sire was still alive."

Sara guessed that meant she had some sort of seal of approval.

"Is there anything I can offer for you to drink? I do apologize that this is a little… surprising." If Sara had known Asha was going to be here (and Ryder didn't expect the Asarikin to _ever_ show up, much like her mother thought), then she would have been a little more prepared. At least she hadn't just walked into the living room with just a t-shirt and panties; that she would have never lived down.

"Coffee if you have any." That request didn't surprise Ryder in the least. It was the most likely request for a Human in the morning… as well as that for an Asari, a Salarian, a Drell, and even the Volus! Thankfully, Irissa did in fact own a Keurig 7.0 Brewing Station, as well as several K-Cups boating both Human-oriented coffee and Asari-oriented teas. Sara went to the adjoining culinary, finding a K-Cup dispenser next to the station on the counter of the ultramodern culinary.

"Do you have any preferences? We got Starbuck's, Starbuck's, and… more Starbuck's." The House Blend, Cafe Verona, and the French Roast were generally the most popular brands, which Irissa had all three. Many Asari loved coffee, and Starbuck's was the popular brand. God only knew how rich they were when practically every Thessian drank the stuff more so than their Human counterparts!

"House Blend is more than fine, Sara. No dairy or sugar." The mercenary replied as Ryder pulled out a K-Cup from the queue and placed it into the stations' receptacle, placing a CeramiGel-crafted coffee mug into the dispensary before activating the device, the machine automatically heating the appropriate amount of water to seventy-six degrees Celsius, brewing the coffee to perfection less than a minute later. Sara handed over the mug to Asha, who stood just outside the culinary, the counter divider that separated the kitchen from the living room between them. Sara was in a bit of a quandary. She was making polite with Asha, whom she had just met, who just so happened to be her lovers' daughter. Ryder wasn't sure what to say, knowing only a little of her. Irissa had truly thought she might never see her daughter again due to their previous fallout and the activities she performed both professionally and recreationally. Sara took that to mean that Asha likely did more for Creds than just merc work. Well, she wouldn't be the only Asarikin who worked a bedroom, far from it. "I have heard that Council Space is fretting over Geth movement. I guess they have moved on from Terminus Space and onto _civilized_ space." Ah, that scornful voice Sara knew of. It seemed that anyone living in the Terminus or the Traverse held the fact that their half of the galaxy wasn't civilized. Because being governed by warlords, dictatorships, and dark empires constituted cultural advancement.

"Have the Geth been making moves in the dark sectors?" Sara asked, remembering some of the discussions on the _Normandy_. Doctor Liara T'soni had wondered if there had been any attacks on other Prothean sites in the Attican and Terminus Sectors, ones that they weren't aware of. "The attack on Eden Prime was for an unearthed Prothean Beacon. The one on Therum was for a Protheantologist." The Corpsman wasn't about to admit it was a nepotist move, Doctor Liara T'soni being the daughter of Lady Benezia T'soni, an acknowledged confederate of Saren Arterius. Detective Garrus Vakarian had been investigating histories and holdings on both the former Council Agent and the Priestess and House Matriarch of House T'soni for leads and clues of movements, past berths, financial deals, any anything else to fill in the gaps of what they might have done, where they might have gone, and a timeline. "We think the Geth are looking for something specific, something ProTech, or perhaps something in Prothean sites. You are certainly in a position to gain intelligence from various hirings and scuttlebutt." That was a nice way to reference Asha's job.

"That…" The mercenary's eyes went shrewd, obviously thinking. "You have a point, Maiden. The Geth have been making moves outside the Perseus Veil for well over a decade at least, but at times and locations that did not connect. ProTech is guarded zealously for obvious reasons, so I do not know of any attacks on _popular_ installations or sites. But… about six years ago, there was noted movement in an unheld system in the Nemean Abyss that the Geth were spotted by another company." Ah, she meant a merc company. "The Rainreave Sector is noted for its high concentration of interstellar anomalies; supernova remnants, neutron stars, gravitational fluxes… it is a hazard to visit, though there are some outposts and colonies out there. Especially Cartagena Station, the _de facto_ hub of the Rainreave Sector and the Transveral Ocean in the Abyss." The Corpsman had heard of Cartagena Station, the so-called 'Dark Heart Station'. Sara had yet to hear one pleasant thing about the conglomerated structure that involved old freighters, space outposts, and a planet-fracker vessel fused together into a mishmash station ruled by no one, but under constant new management. "I do not know what the Geth were doing there, but they were spotted upon a Charnel House planet that was otherwise uninhabited."

"Do you remember the name, by chance?"

"I don't think it merited a name." The Asarikin replied, amused as she took a sip of her coffee. "Standard designation of letters and numbers by whomever found it and what sequential order. If I remember correctly, the system was a binary-star system with a blue super-giant and a white dwarf. Three planets, I believe?"

"I'll look into it, Asha. Thanks." Sara queued up her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool and typed in the information into a note app. "So… is this as awkward for you as it is for me? I certainly wasn't expecting to see you." She didn't want to imply _ever_ but it was there.

"A little." The mercenary replied, but her face was… thoughtful. "I see that you do not know the details of the falling out between my mother and myself. I… appreciate that. I made mistakes, as most young Maidens do. Mine were… irreversible, I'm afraid. Coming to Council Space was quite difficult for me, legally speaking." Ryder understood what Asha was referring to. Likely, she had several crimes or connections to her name, and just because it happened a hundred or so years ago didn't mean that she couldn't be brought in for them. The Cit didn't have a statue of limitations, after all. "Spent too many years _not_ correcting them."

"My dad always says that the worst mistake is not learning from one." Dad was full of wisdom. It usually came with time out when she and Scottie were kids, twin tornadoes that bickered and fought like all siblings did. "You're here now. That's a start. Can't expect to change things doing the same thing." Another Dad quote.

"True." The mid-stage Maiden replied, nodding thoughtfully. "I think I see why my mother is intrigued with you, Sara Ryder. I think the Human term is that… your heart is caught on your cuff?"

"I wear my heart on my sleeve." Sara corrected her, and yeah, that was true. She always had been passionate and open about such things. "I guess that's what made me such a good medic. Started early, you know? Fifteen isn't an adult age for a Human, but I was on a Skybulance, learning what I could while helping people. It felt… good, being there during someone's time of need."

"Quite the opposite of what I do, honestly. I wish I had your insight." Asha replied ruefully. "My mother spoke of you. She sounds happy, content. I have not heard that in a long time. When I discovered that you were a Human, and practically a Youngling, I was…" She seemed to try to find the right word.

"Not pleased?" Sara could tell that her paramour's daughter was trying to be civil.

"That would be putting it mildly." The mercenary replied, a slight smile on her cerulean lips. "And yet I looked you up, plex'ed your story. I was… rather surprised, honestly. My opinion of Humans is not high, I have no shame in admitting that. But you certainly are an exception. The jokes were a little silly, though."

"Oh God, those are still around." Ryder knew exactly what Asha was referring to; Jane Shepard jokes. During one of their interviews after Elysium, Jane and Sara had been together for a late-night show after Auntie had gotten her Star of Terra and Sara her Gold Ribbon. Thirteen year old Sara had been rather charmed by the attention, and had (on the spot) created about a dozen 'Jane Shepard jokes' pertaining to her athleticism, prowess, and voracity in battle. "In my defense, I was a kid. A young one, at that."

" _The Lion doesn't do push-ups, she does ship-downs?_ " Asha quoted, making Sara groan. God that was terrible.

"Please, no…"

" _The Lion once killed a man by pulling out a gun. Afterwards, she started shooting?"_

"I was thirteen, okay!" Ryder defended herself, looking at the merc, who had a smile a parsec wide. She was doing this on purpose.

" _The Lion has a Krogan statue in her room. He isn't dead, he's just too afraid to move?"_

"God, kill me now." Those _fucking_ jokes. Sara just hid her face in her hands. After seven years, she still heard them and the hundreds or so that had been made up afterwards. Why did she think it was such a great idea to blurb those out in front of a live audience _while being recorded?_

" _A Thresher Maw once bit the Lion. After a week of agonizing pain, the Maw died?"_

"Torture. I cry torture." Actually, those were some of the good ones. They got worse, unfortunately.

"I see that you two are conversing." Irissa T'vara walked into the main room with a small hovercart in hand with groceries loaded inside, the Professor smiling. "I honestly did not expect you to be awake yet, dear one, considering."

"What have you been doing to my mother at night?" Asha asked slyly, and Sara just felt befuddled at the question as her cheeks grew warm. Damn the Asari and their _very_ open sense of sexuality!

"I… ah… um…" _Nice save, Doc._ Best education in the galaxy, and she just got smacked speechless by an Asari merc having way too much fun. "Can we leave that sort of conversation for like… after the Great Collapse?" Never was too soon. Sad part was, Sara knew that Asari families often _shared_ experiences. It was like mental porn or something. It had been worse in the Academy, all the Asari Younglings looking forward to their Maidency and their first sex melds, picking out likely candidates (usually multiple) and sharing the experiences with their friends. Sara had to listen to that kind of drivel for five years.

"Oh, you do not wish to know some of the pleasure devices the Asari have?" Asha continued mercilessly as Sara looked to Irissa, who was looking to the Human with some amusement.

"Save me?"

"I will make you a deal, Maiden." Asha T'vara said, her aquamarine eyes twinkling. "If you can make a Jane Shepard joke on the spot I have never heard of, I shall relent."

 _Fuck._

"The Lion does not travel by Mass Relay." Sara was practically desperate, spitting something out. "The galaxy shifts."

Asha T'vara looked at her for a moment, blinking.

"Not bad. Let us make breakfast."

Sara knew this was going to be a bad morning.

* * *

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian worked in the SSV _Normandy's_ cargo hold, having set up a personal work station for himself along the port wall where the General Dynamic M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle rested whenever it wasn't in use. The work station was a loan from Citadel Security Services, complete with encryption and access to C-SEC databases for his investigations. Ever since joining the Human hybrid Frigate, Garrus had continued upon his investigation of former Council Agent Saren Arterius, the so-called Bloody Talon. Technically, the case wasn't closed, and he hadn't been removed from the investigation. As a member of the C-SEC Special Crimes Unit, Garrus more than use to dealing with criminals who were proficient in covering their tracks, destroying evidence, removing witnesses, and using Creds to buy their way out of richly-deserved prison sentences. As an Academy Alumni, Vakarian was more than smart enough to see through most half-cocked plans and pale attempts at such things, having other means to haul suspected criminals and having them enjoy their day at the Tribunal. To date, there were only five investigations that he hadn't closed with the perpetrator behind bars, waiting for their Cit-sponsored execution.

Garrus only got the worst of the worst, and he thrilled at sending them to their richly deserved fates.

The Turian noted when Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder came aboard the _Normandy_ , coming up the opened deployment ramp as dextro-chiliary supplies were being accounted for from Citadel stocks; foodstuff, medicines, and armor components for Quarians were being brought in from the Lady of the Chamber. Little Sara looked a little worse for wear, and a quick scent had him confirmed what he had assumed before.

"I know that look, Ryder." Vakarian said as Sara walked near him, intent to pass him by before he interrupted whatever she was doing. "You have the scent of _two_ on you now. Related, unless I miss my guess."

"Thanks, big guy." The petite Human female replied as she moved towards the bulkhead wall, standing to where he could easily see her beside his terminal, but without her looking at it. She always respected his work as a cop and didn't pry unnecessarily. "Met Irissa's daughter. Merc from the Terminus, mid-stage Maiden. It could have been more awkward, but not by much."

"Hmm, I seem to remember a few occasions in my life where meeting the family ended up a fringe-cringing experience." Vakarian admitted, a little amused at Sara's predicament. It was something that all went through if one wished to mate, after all, unless one blessedly found some sapient whose family was gone to the Spirits or just on the _clochea_ end of the galaxy. "On a scale from one to six, how bad?"

"Embarrassing, almost painfully so." The Human admitted. "Not the worst, if that's any consolation. We both know who won that particular crown."

Yes, he hadn't forgotten.

"Is that sire- _vracking_ son of a goat still breathing?" The Detective asked, looking to the Human as his talons still worked his Haptic keyboard, inputting information relating to some of his investigations into Saren. "If you wish, I could peel him. Gladly."

"Tempting." Ryder sing-songed, but shook her head immediately afterwards. "I like to think the joke will be on him eventually. Karma and all." Garrus vaguely remember Sara explaining _karma_ once; _what comes around, goes around_ , she had told him. Cops tend to like that the 'goes around' part came with a pair of SnapCuffs and a SickStick to the fringe. "Besides, Alixa kept tabs, and Tonus is slugging weedwater in Taetrus, fighting the Separatist Insurgency there. We both know what will happen to a Heirarchist if they're captured. That's… not something I'd wish on anyone. Not even that _queepah_." Garrus merely snorted at the Keelish curse, sometimes forgetting how many languages Sara Ryder knew. What other Human knew how to swear in Quarian, after all? Or Thessian Low Cant, Sur'keshian Logilang, and Common Cipritine? Spirits, she knew how to tell someone how to _vrack_ their mother in Voltine! And the Volus didn't even have a word for 'mother'! "Whatcha working on, now? Looking up financial paths and investment routes on our illustrious Turian asshole _de jure_?"

"Mapping his past, yes." Vakarian replied, inputting a few more notes. "Arterius is clever, but he wasn't hiding before. I'm compiling a list of locations he had visited before Eden Prime, going back at least a decade. He might have been a SPECTRE, but using his Cit-issued Credit Chit for lodgings, rentals, and purchases puts him in locations. Find the ones he frequented more often, and perhaps we can find out why he was there besides clandestine missions."

"The devil is in the details, after all." The former CitEMS Paramedic replied, smiling. "Still wonder how the hell he was able to convince the Geth to collude with him, or how he found the plates to go to Rannoch to talk to them. All I can think of is that there's a piece of the puzzle we're missing. I doubt he came up with a piece of ProTech and dangled it before the Consensus, promising more."

"True, they would have likely blown him out of the sky before he got close enough to raise anything on Rannoch communications-wise." Garrus surmised, thought honestly… who knew?

Saren was brilliant according to his Academy records, having graduated _first_ in his peerage before the Relay Incident. Biotics were normally sequestered in Cabals, but Saren had come from a proud line, and even before his biotics manifested, young Saren Arterius was recognized for his intelligence and drive. Much like his older brother, Desolas, Saren had surpassed his peers, elevating himself about the common rule by his intelligence and dedication. He had learned biotics alongside Asari, trained by Academy-hired Asari Instructors, and had placed first in that endeavor. A Turian defeating Asari. Younglings, to be sure, but still. It hadn't been a shock to anyone who had known the Arterius family that their youngest scion would be named the youngest Turian Council Agent in Hierarchy history. He was intelligent, he was powerful, and he was driven.

And Saren really, _really vracking_ hated Humanity.

Arterius had been nominated for SPECTRE in the days following the Incident, his brother having just been killed due to some sort of situation involving something discovered on Shanxi that even Vakarian couldn't get access to. Saren was almost rabidly vocal about his feelings towards the Citadels' newest 'minor' species, even making public comments that did nothing to ease tensions between the Sons and Daughters of Palaven and those of Earth. Desolas Arterius had been the General of the Fifth Heavy _Machinam_ Legion, the battlesuit-armored unit sent from orbit to crush any ground resistance after the Great _Hastist_ had been called over Shanxi over its entirety. The colony had been given a planetary day to surrender in full (which was almost next to impossible, logistically), but that hadn't stopped the Hierarchy's Forward Expeditionary Fleet from landing craft and soldier upon the planet well before the timeline.

Garrus had no idea what he was to be fighting when he himself had been deployed to the planet, having been told that the Hierarchy had found a stronghold of pirates and anti-Council isolationists who had been attempting to open a Relay without permission (and worse) without mapping its vector or destination. When the Blackwatch Sniper had put his taloned feet upon the grasses of Shanxi, he had found himself aiming at… a race he had never seen before. As an Academy Alumni, he was quite familiar with the thirty-seven known species of the time, and yet he was looking at one that didn't match any of them.

Long before the _Hasti_ timeline had passed, Hierarchists had been given the orders to kill on sight anything not Turian upon the planet.

Garrus had known _of_ Saren Arterius, an Alumni form a few years before him, and already enjoying a meteoritic rise in the Blackwatch ranks thanks to his education and Biotics. He had been a full Commander at twenty, leading a full Spear of Turian Special Forces, while his older brother Desolas lead the heavy armored personnel that crushed anything in its path, decimating cities and villages. But there had been something that Desolas had been looking for, something that made him ignore calls for reinforcements during the Fall of Shanxi or a Quick Reaction Brigade. Humanity had cut its fangs on Turian hide, and hadn't been found wanting. Vakarian remembered well the dirty tricks and insane traps that the colonists had inflicted upon the Hierarchy Troops. If they couldn't win a stand-up fight, they would win it another way. In a queer sort of sense, Garrus respected the _s'kak_ out of that.

Desolas and Saren had left Shanxi before Humanity came and smashed the Forward Expeditionary Fleet with their ragtag fleets, hightailing it out of the war before it had been initially lost, stranding thousands of Turians upon the planet with no reinforcements, no supplies, and no way out.

A week later, General Desolas Arterius was dead, and Saren a SPECTRE. But it hadn't been on Shanxi. That Garrus knew for certain.

 _So why does Saren hate Humanity?_ That was the linchpin, Vakarian knew. It was almost a bad joke amongst Turians, Saren's vile opinion about Humanity. After the Incident? Sure, most in the Hierarchy were right there with Arterius, hating the Humans. Spirits, Garrus hated them at the time, too! But the truth had come out after about a year or so, the real truth. That the SSV _Reed_ had been destroyed for attempting to open a Relay without any warning was a slight, but the Council had ultimately approved of the action. A three month shadow war against an unknown, barely-spaceflight species? Lying to the Council and to the galaxy in general about it? Kinetic strikes on what the Turians believed to be the 'Shanxian's' homeplanet? The Great _Hastist_? There were dozens and dozens of infractions against the Hierarchy concerning the 'Incident', and most Turians didn't even consider the fact that _they had lost to a primitive species!_ No Mass Effect weaponry whatsoever, aerofoil shuttles, vehicles that used _hydrocarbons!_ And then there had been the improvised explosives made out of granulated chemicals called _gunpowder_ that seemed to be stuffed into every piece of trash, every nook and cranny. He had almost been killed by a soda can filled with gunpowder and rocks, lit with a corded fuse. Backwards… but effective. It was then that he realized that Sara had asked him a question, but had missed it due to his ruminations.

"You have the same far-away look my Dad gets, you know? When you think of the FCW." No Turian called it that; it was a stark reminder how badly they screwed up. No _Torin_ wanted the reminder that their _Councilor_ and their _Primarch_ had been sacked due to it. Still, Garrus didn't fault Sara or her species need to call it for what it was. "You know I don't fault you for it, right? Your service to the Hierarchy or your deployment to Shanxi."

"So you have told me on several occasions, little one." He faulted himself, honestly. He hadn't even lodged an informal protest when he discovered he was fighting an undiscovered species! Over a hundred Humans died by his trigger talon, and he hadn't had the plates to say that the entire action was wrong, against Council Law. "I do appreciate it, though. What was your question from before?"

"Can you get a hold of any non-Council Systems Index?" The Human female asked, folding her arms over her soft chest carapace bulges, what Humans called _breasts_ on a female. "After suffering an Asari merc's dirty mind, the one tidbit I did glean should be looked at so the whole exercise wasn't for naught."

"Hmm, Attican and Terminus Planetary Records aren't exactly… reliable." That was putting it mildly. "What are we looking for?" Garrus was already typing up in the C-SEC Directory for any database searches for planetary descriptions.

"Binary star system, one blue super-giant, one white dwarf. Three planets, but open it up for two to four. Nemean Abyss Sector." That had the Detective look to the Corpsman, hearing about one the most dangerous sectors in space. There was a reason the Nemean Abyss _wasn't_ ruled by anyone of note. "Supposedly the Geth had an excursion there about six years back on a Charnel House planet. Just an official Cit Stellar-cartography name, letters and numbers."

"Hmm. This will take a few moments to compile." Garrus felt his ovaloid eyes slipping over to the much shorter Human female standing close by. "Sara? Are you… happy?"

"With…?"

"How things turned out."

Ah, that varren was now in the room thanks to him. An alpha varren, at that; rabid and slobbery.

"You waited… four years to ask that question?" Ryder looked at him, and Vakarian winced at the tone of her voice. She wasn't pleased. Her strangely round eyes bore into him, and the Detective was intimately reminded that this young Human female had once jumped Cit to a war zone to save her Aunt… and personally killed something over a hundred Geth platforms on her own on Therum. "You barely talked to me afterwards, and only got involved after I came to you about Tonus Belltonis. Then you dropped me like a bad habit. Again."

"That's… a little unfair. But a little true." Vakarian shouldn't have brought it up, but he genuinely _liked_ Sara Ryder. "One part is my profession. It should come as no surprise that Special Crimes Detectives and members of the RRU are targeted by criminals for a variety of things; assassinations, graft, calumny, extortion. And I'm both." Sara had in fact met him during one of those situations, a criminal entrepreneur having hired a group of merc to take out the Detective to derail the investigation against him. Garrus had gotten wounded, and an off-duty CitEMS Human Paramedic had come on-scene to aid him when Garrus was trying to figure out how to pull three bullets out of his plates. That… had sparked her involvement with the Red Harvest, no matter how unwilling or not ready she was. That was a story best left buried in a biomass plant. "I would not hurt you and you know it. After what happened… my worst fear was seeing you hurt Sara. And I did see that. It… scared me." _Torins_ didn't talk about things such as fear or fright. But two ugly things had occurred in which Sara had been hurt; one physical, the other emotional. It had broken his heart both times. "I… probably didn't make the best judgment call, but at the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. Perhaps it was at that point in time, but later? No, perhaps not." He had _vracked_ it up, plain and simple. Not initially, but certainly afterwards. "I just wish to know if you are happy now. I know you are bonding with the Professor, who seems well for a Matriarch. She treats you well, as you deserve. I think I have a chance to at least know."

"Oh, Garrus… still the Turian knight in shiny C-SEC armor." The Human female smiled at him; a real one. "You're going to find yourself a little Turian female to rub spurs with, and she's probably going to have no damn idea how lucky she is." The smile was still there, but it morphed to one of sorrow. "We were… doomed from the start, I think. Nothing that we did caused that, but I don't think anything we could have done would have changed that, either. I think if we had told our respective families to piss off and deal with it, it would have soured things between us, probably poisoned us. I don't know if we would have been truly happy afterwards. I don't know if it was for the best or if 'things worked out'," she airquoted him, "but I am happy. I'm where I want to be, better than expected, actually. And I'm with someone that does make me happy and treats me with love and respect. I could have done without this morning, though." That had Garrus snort. "What of you? You rubbing spurs with anyone?"

"No."

"Um… you're not still hooked on me or anything, are you?" Sara asked, a little concerned. Humanity certainly had some weird males that pined over females in an unhealthy manner.

"A little, but not to where I don't seek the pleasures of the company of others." The Corpsman just looked at him for a long moment, her round blue eyes piercing into him.

 _Vrack._

"For someone who's an expert at discerning lies, you make a shit liar yourself." The female finally said, shaking her head as she looked at him sadly. "So I'm the one that got away?"

"You're the one I'm trying to protect." Garrus replied as he brought up something on his terminal, minimizing the holographic field that had the planetary inquiry on it, still rummaging through thousands and thousands of detected planets on the database. Instead, he showed her something else, another investigation. This one four years old, as of yet to be closed. Sara looked, and her round eyes grew wide.

" _HIM._ " The Petty Office spoke but one word, but the venom contained in that word was heavy enough to deliver a small kinetic strike with. "That fucking… _cocksucker_." Ah, Humanity and their sex-related jokes and vernacular. Yet in this instance, 'vnark-sucker' was indeed appropriate for the sapient in question. "How the fuck is he still alive? I thought the Office of Special Tactics had taken the job?"

"That's what I was told as well, but I still find movements and clues to his potential whereabouts." Vakarian relayed, but he was just as perplexed as Sara was. Rapid Response was the most elite law enforcement unit in the galaxy, and when one told an RRU Officer that a _SPECTRE_ would be handling such an escaped criminal, Garrus had assumed that the criminal would be dead in the next week or so. It wasn't as if he were the general public or some politician to coax; he knew better. He knew how Council Agents operated, having worked around a few in the past. The fact that it had been four years and he still found evidence that the Red Harvest was going on disturbed him. Greatly. "He's still active, Ryder. He hasn't stopped at all."

"Oh… oh fuck." The Human's soft face plates went a great deal paler, and Garrus knew what that meant. "Garrus, he's literally one of the most vile sapients in existence. If he's still active… oh God. For four years." Sara wiped away a tear, and Garrus had a very good idea why that tear existed. He didn't blame her, either. "What damage has he caused after all this time? All those lives?"

"I know. Had him located about a year or so back, and I was ready to travel to Megnegon to finish up what we started, but… politics." Garrus snarled that last word. It wasn't the first time politics had stood in between him and catching a criminal. Saren had been another with the too-short investigation in which the Special Crimes Detective had leads and evidence of collusion, but just needed a little more time for proof. Which came in the form of a pair of Quarian Pilgrims while an STG Operative was working on her own case, actually. "If I locate him again, nothing is stopping me. Our lives are in danger while he is still alive. Yours, especially."

"You find him, we're _both_ going." Ryder insisted, her alien eyes piercing, showing no faltering. No longer was she the sixteen year old paramedic in way over her fringe. No, now she was a trained Frontline Barber-Surgeon, blooded and victorious. He wanted to argue with her, he really did. A _Torin_ did not put a _Serah_ in danger. But he knew she wouldn't rest easy until the Red Harvest was over and done with, and likely she'd want to see the corpse for verification.

"Fine." Vakarian wasn't happy with this, but he knew that Sara would have his back with this, just as she had four years ago. He wondered if she still cared for him as he did her. "Does your Aunt know?"

"No, of course not." Ryder replied softly, looking away. "If I told her, she'd probably start a war hunting his ass down. Auntie's idea of subtlety is two bullets to the back of the head. Remember Haliat? She executed him and uploaded the footage."

"I know. I watched." Along with just about everyone else in the galaxy. The most hunted criminal in the galaxy, and it had been an Alliance N7 who had tracked the _Torin_ down and blown his fringe off. Garrus had approved. The death of Elanos Haliat had fractured the Separatist Insurgency badly, that sire- _vracking_ son of a goat the undisputed leader of the movement. The trideo of his death had been accompanied with information that then-1st Lieutenant Jane Shepard had hacked out of databases connecting the Separatists with the Hegemony, deals made amounting slaves for arms during the height of the Skyllian Blitz. Humanity had faced off against not one but _two_ semi-governmental forces at the same time and came out on top. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know."

"You bring the chainsaw, and I'll bring the beer."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm going to introduce you to something that I've been wanting to show you since I came up with the idea in _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope_ (circa 2015). The game flubbed it. I'm going to hold your hand and make you sing Aladdin's "A Whole New World" with me.

Welcome to the _**Office of Special Tactics**_.

Of the many fanfics I've read? I don't think anyone's actually shown the actual organization upon the Citadel pre-ME 3. This may be a first.

You lucky bastard you.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard took her hand off of the multi-biometric scanner that cataloged at least five different metadata sample points about her; fingerprint, retinal, voice recognition, skin flake DNA, and bioelectric field. It had taken ten minutes to do the samples, each one painstakingly taken in a slow and official manner to alleviate any miscommunication or possible error as a Salarian technician ran the gauntlet of hyper-advanced security measures as each sample was taken at least five times to ensure not only accuracy, but also prevention of future corruption or espionage. Jannie suffered it well, never saying a cross word to the ancient Salarian male who ran the initiation process for the security data, in no small part due to the fact that connected to his hip on a maglock was a Salarian-made automatic Venom Shotgun that fired airburst flechette rounds, eviscerating anything quite quickly. It had been made to specifically kill Krogan, and no doubt it would do well against her. The redhead weathered it without a single complaint as she stepped into the access multi-scanner for final verification of the security measures, getting a blue light. Jannie looked back to where Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder stood, the Corpsman having already completed the process. Ryder was smiling from ear-to-ear, practically bouncing on her toes she was so giddy. Jannie didn't blame her; she was just as excited.

With a nod of the Salarian's horned head, Shepard and Ryder walked into the Office of Special Tactics.

Humanity's First SPECTRE entered into the compound of the most elite enforcement agency in the galaxy, where the common rumor was that a Council Agent could go anywhere, do anything, authorized by the Council of Law to absolutely annihilate anyone or anything that violated the Treaty and Conventions, no matter where in the galaxy they might be. While Jannie was a little taken aback by the normal-looking lobby that she had initially entered with the Salarian technician armed with a Venom shotgun (semi-retired SPECTRE, perhaps?), she figured it to be a facade, much like the building was. When Council Agent Avitus Rix had given her data on the Office of Special Tactics, she had noted that there were many locations throughout the Cit that she could access, but that she would need to go the main headquarters first to get her SPECTRE Access Codes registered and confirmed, as well as getting herself fitted for the HMA SPECTRE MasterGear Armor. As her Second, Sara Ryder was allowed many of the same allowances as Jannie was. Weaponry, armor, tech, intelligence, briefings… if something happened to Jannie while on mission, Sara would be expected to finish the task and thus given the tools and knowledge to complete the mission. Rix's data had filled her in on a good bit of information that she hadn't even suspected about SPECTREs; approved forces allowed to carry many different forms of BlackTech, access to a discretionary budget to maintain a vessel and crew, and an approved actions list that didn't even need a call to the Council for verification (and that list was staggering… and shocking).

Jannie had read what a SPECTRE was able to carry and do… and realized that Saren Arterius had the same equipment, but a lot more experience.

The first 'room' after the security checkpoint of the benign lobby of the building named 'Office of Civil Complaints' (the 'front' government apparatus where a complete department of C-SEC Officers worked what was considered the worst bureaucratic joke in CitGov, answering citizen complaints about Keeper modifications and petty complaints) was obviously a situation room of an advanced degree that Jannie had never seen the likes of before. The N7 had seen the 'SitRoom' in the Office of Naval Intelligence for special operation mission briefings and debriefings, where the Systems Alliance Naval Intelligence Branch collated current intelligence and threat assessments from several Earth Alliance Space organizations throughout the entire galaxy. What Jannie was walking into was somewhere between a squad room and mission control; dozens of low-level SPECTRE Support Operatives keeping abreast current activities, intelligence, and events, updating everything… in immersed _Augmented Reality!_ She saw what looked to be an Asari matron on an advanced chair, a trigraphic 'bubble' surrounding her holographically as she moved data with her hands, taking pieces of intelligence and trying to network and link it with like information for dissemination and collation. The redhead could see what was a marquee feed of intelligence coming from God knew where, data labels from (likely) tapped sources from every other Intelligence Agency throughout the entire galaxy coming into play, the marquee occupying a top portion of the holographic sphere, color-coded due to importance, species, or some other descriptor she wasn't aware of. And there were dozens of Support Operatives, Level One SPECTREs whose job it was to keep Level Three Council Agents (such as herself) abreast with the latest intel, innovations, and actionable data. This was the Brain Room.

The walls of the room were something else. There was a holographic representation of the galaxy suspended above everyone's head, the Milky Way slowly spiraling with _hundreds_ of blue points that Shepard quickly concluded were known Mass Relays. White points connected to the blue points, and she figured those to be discovered and occupied systems, be it in Council Space or non-Council Space. Along the walls were trideo screens representing each of the points, shifting from location to location to its specific point, a marquee of data scrolling at the bottom of the holographic screen of local news networks to keep abreast of any emergencies and local data, a holographic line beaming from screen to point on the galaxy map so that anyone not connected to one of those advanced Augmented Reality chairs could tell what they were looking at. Jane was shocked to see that the Arc had its own screen… _and fucking footage!_ There was a SPECTRE camera right in the SAGov Wing, monitoring everyone coming in and out of the main turbolift, seeing the movement of Systems Alliance personnel, government employees, politicians, visitors… everyone. By the angle, Jannie knew the possible location of the trideo transmitter; in front of that turbolift was a trigraphic emitter that displayed pictures of Earth and other colonies, a sort of 'feel-good' scroll of what the SA defended with propo pictures of pretty vistas. Fuck, was the bug _in_ the damn emitter itself? How the fuck had the Office of Special Tactics pulled that off?

Another screen had Jannie's blood run cold; she was watching the fucking _Primarch of Palaven_ sitting at his office, at work. Gallinus Fedorsian was in a meeting with an adviser… right now, minus LightLag.

 _Oh… oh_ fuck.

There was no denying it; this was literally beyond cutting edge _everything_.

"Holy… shit." Sara's jaw probably just broke the floor, it dropped that had. Jannie's likely had done the same. It was one thing to _assume_ that the Office of Special Tactics was at the top of their game in things like cutting edge intelligence, weaponry, armor, tech, codes, and equipment. But now she was seeing what 'cutting edge' meant. It was well beyond what she had assumed, and as an N, she could assume pretty damn good. Shepard slowly spun in place in the half-darkened room, mostly illuminated by the hanging representation of their spiral galaxy and the hundreds of trideo feeds decorating the walls… and even the ceiling! She watched one Drell (there were Drell SPECTREs?) 'pull' a trideo feed from the wall and onto his/her (she couldn't tell) ARO bubble for a closer view, what looked to be an image from some Asari planet gauging by the amount of Thessians on the feed. Well ,it probably made sense to have a non-Asari keeping tabs on Asari; conflict of interest and all. Shit, Jannie hoped there wasn't some Turian monitoring SA activity. Likely, there were probably a couple just out of attrition.

"Well, I see you found your way here."

Jannie was dealt another shock as she spun to the feminine voice that had addressed her, her green eyes wide at the sound of the voice; a _Human's_ voice!

"What in the actual fuck?" Ryder punctuated exactly what Shepard was feeling as she saw a woman shorter than she approximately a year or two younger than the N7, with short brunette hair and dressed rather casually in denim work pants, a white work blouse, and a black blazer over it. Her head was topped with (of all things) a black Stetson, and it was really hard to miss the silvered six-pointed star clipped to the left side of her blazer, the one with the word ' **MARSHAL** ' engraved upon its center. There was another Human Being in the Office of Special Tactics, and Jane Catherine Shepard knew exactly who she was. Damn near every Human Being did. Likely, a damn good portion of the galaxy did, too.

"Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins. Call me Sam." The Marshal said with a smile, extending a hand to shake. Jannie did just that, still flabbergasted at the thought that, of all the places and all the Human Beings in the galaxy, Marshal Sam Collins worked for the Office of Special Tactics. "I can already see you have a billion questions or so. Let's get out of the Bureau and someplace a little quieter so you can pick my brain."

"Um, yeah." Jannie replied, still… stumped. Marshal fucking _Collins_ was a SPECTRE? Shepard had been under the impression that she herself was the first. Nihlus had said so. Fuck, the _Council_ had said so! Collins beckoned the both of them to follow her as Jannie and Sara exchanged a look, the Corpsman's face still one of shocking surprise as they followed the Marshal out of the 'Bureau' and towards another door that was code-locked, Sam placing her hand on a reader to change the red icon over the doors' access to blue, granting her privileged access. The Lion and the Angel followed a woman as infamous as they as they entered a rather normal-looking corridor with several access doors on either side, marked in seven different languages, Standard Alliance English being the last of them. Jannie was guessing that had been added before the redheads' inclusion to the Office of Special Tactics, if the woman she and Sara were following were any indication. The Marshal led them to a room that looked to be a normal office, a pseudo-window with a vista of downtown Neo Beijing, Shanxi as a backdrop. Ah, Collins' birthplace. Jannie had forgotten that Sam had survived the First Contact War as a toddler. The false window actually played as if someone were looking down Shanghai Boulevard, with aircar and hovercraft traffic, pedestrians moving in and out of the buildings' ground floors, and even a sky that was tinged between blue and violet with slightly silvered overcast clouds. It might have even been in real-time.

"Your office, Marse?" Sara asked tentatively, but Jannie didn't think so. Besides the window, there were no personal effects in the room save for a common terminal, desk, and chair, along with a bureau with datapads connected to the intrinsic field charger and downloader along one wall.

"It's a common office, but the window shifts for personal preference." Collins replied as she sat in the office chair, indicating the spare seats in the office, which the two Normandiers took. "I reserved it for today because I knew we'd be needing it. Needless to say, I will be your liaison for the Office for the time being. Actually forwarded a request to join through the Three. That's… still in bureaucratic hell somewhere." Jannie was a little stunned at that news as she took to a seat, the chair automatically adjusting to the 'Human' option. Well, that was nice. Why couldn't all seats on the Cit do that automatically? "So I'll start with the big obvious, since the question's practically written all over both of your faces in big neon colors.

"I am, in fact, a Level Two Clandestine Member of the Office of Special Tactics. Have been for a few years now." The Marshal explained, Shepard slowly nodding. She knew a bit of what that meant. A Level One Council Agent was generally a Service and Support member, a non-field agent who handled data, research, finances, weaponry, any a myriad of other jobs and professions for the SPECTRE Home Office and its clandestine subsidiaries throughout Council (and non-Council) Space. Level Three Council Agents, such as herself, were known as 'public' SPECTREs, known Agents of the Council that were the visible threats against those who broke the Citadel Conventions, the Treaty of Farixen, and thwarted the Council of Law.

Level Two Council Agents, like Marshal Sam Collins, were Clandestine members who operated out on the field under a public cover, performing their duties without anyone knowing that they were, in fact, SPECTREs themselves. Most, as Jannie understood it from the data that Avitus Rix had given her, were intelligence operatives who performed espionage and sabotage behind enemy lines, so to speak, as well as a myriad of other duties under the guise of their public covers. Obviously, Collins was still a part of the Alliance Federal Marshal Services, a law dog with the authority to enforce Systems Alliance Law throughout Earth Alliance Space as well as the ability to chase down criminals who violated said law throughout the galaxy if required. Such a person would be perfect for a Level Two Council Agent, honestly.

"I'm honestly surprised they didn't make you a public SPECTRE, considering." Sara said softly, referring to Collins' infamous past. Jannie had to agree.

About seven years prior, Deputy Sam Collins was a Frontier Marshal Deputy on the Systems Alliance colony of Therum who had been caught in the middle of an impossible situation; between the nefarious Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters and her own corrupt Marshal's Office. Collins had been investigating a routine call of intimidation and racketeering, and her investigation had led her to believe that her Marshal, Bart Weathers, and several of her fellow Deputies, were in fact playing enforcers for the IBT President, Nico Dekker. Events had led to what was generally known as 'the Miracle of Therum' where Deputy Sam Collins had been involved in a Deputy-related shootout involving a dozen of her fellow Deputies who were trying to frame her for the act, as well as another dozen Teamster-employed thugs. Collins had come out the victor, wounded and betrayed by her own, but had succeeded in arresting her own corrupt boss, ripping the data from his own terminal to implicate all who had been involved. Admits gunfire and bloodshed, Collins had arrested seven and killed five of her own, along with another eight arrests and four deaths of the Teamsters, including the capture of President Nico Dekker. She had initially inherited Weather's position as the Marshal of Therum, cleaning house, and her status had been approved by the Systems Alliance President himself for a woman who took the most corrupt law enforcement location and _tabula rasa'ed_ it, turning it into a post of integrity and respect once more.

Then the Skyllian Blitz happened.

During the war, Frontier and Federal Marshals worked to keep Batarians and Separatists from capturing Humans on remote worlds and outposts, and Marshal Collins was no exception. There had been no less than five attempts on the mining town of Nova Yekaterinburg, known as No'burg, the largest colonial town on Therum. Her, her Deputies, and No'burg Militia held off each attempt, losing people yet not one soul had ever been abducted and fettered. Yet when a captured mercenary had been interrogated back in 2180 during the final failed attempt, Marse Collins learned of a large slaving compound on the moon of Aratoth where Separatists held captured Humans and traded them to the Hegemony for weapons.

What Collins did next was unthinkable.

Knowing of a location of thousands of fettered Human Beings, the Marshal of Therum went on the offensive. Absconding with a _Kowloon_ -Class Merchant Freighter that had been used by a pirate gang, Marse Collins went to Dostoevsky Prison Station and _cleared_ out the Death Row inmates there on a promise; one fight, and full pardons. Two hundred and fifty convicted murderers had been armed, armored and _dropped_ onto the Separatist compound upon the moon of Aratoth, killing anything Turian and Batarian as a team of Deputies lead by the Marshal herself raided the compound in the name of justice. The event had been a slaughter on both sides, but when the gunfire stopped, every slaver and insurgent was dead, with less than eighty convicts had survived the purge, along with half of Collins' team. Yet they had completed the mission; the fettered Humans had been freed, Alliance vessels called to extract everyone still breathing. The Alliance had hailed her a hero, awarding her the highest award a civilian could receive; the Gold Ribbon. Humanity spoke of her name with awe and reverence, much like they did Jannie's. Like the gunslingers of old, Marse Collins was one made of true grit, issuing the pardons she had promised to the convicts, and freeing the fettered. Humanity called her a hero.

They called her the Butcher of Torfan.

"Honestly, the discovery of the Prothean Beacon on Eden Prime was the final factor. Politics." Collins described, and that didn't surprise Jannie at all. "They… did ask me before you were selected by Nihlus, and I turned down the offer. I was… happy with where I was before."

"Was?" Sara noted. Jannie had caught that too.

"Nihlus… Nihlus was my husband." Sam said softly, her blue eyes mixed between hardness and grief, a hardass cop having been dealt a terrible blow. Shepard took that news… with some difficulty. She wasn't exactly keen on Human-alien relationships, though she tried to be understanding and accepting of it, like she was with Sara. But the loss of a loved one wasn't something she'd wish on anyone, alien or not. "Thank you for bring back his body, Captain. It's a cold comfort, but it _is_ a comfort."

"I take it that's why your inclusion with the mission hasn't been approved? Conflict of interest?" Not that Jannie saw any conflict of interest. If the Butcher wanted to rip off Saren's head and shit down his neck, the N7 would help hold the fucker down. She had promised Nihlus she'd get that fucker, and now she was sitting in front of his wife/bondmate. Just another reason to see that spike turned into a puddle of blood and gory chunks. Nihlus had alluded once about something concerning anyone in Jannie's life, before the mission on Eden Prime. The Turian had told her that Level Two and Level Three SPECTREs didn't generally enjoy retirement, and to enjoy what time she could with friends and family. Jannie had thought of Sara and Poppa Bear; she hadn't been close with her mother in _years_ , Admiral Hannah Singer having been a little _too_ career-oriented during Jannie's younger years, the impression set. Nihlus had a Human wife, and had selected a Human SPECTRE. For someone who himself had been picked for his harsh stance on Humanity? Nihlus Kryik had really flipped a bitch and pulled a Crazy Ivan on that one. If it had been Sara or Poppa Bear lying dead on the ground of Eden Prime? The redhead would have found a magical quantum means to throttle Saren's holographic form to death in front of God and Council with a smile on her face. "Marse? I've aimed to have the most lethal team in Human history on my side. I've paid a pretty Cred without batting an eyelash on the best gear and equipment a warrior could want, and then ran them through a wringer to make them as deadly in skills as I could get in a short but intense amount of time.

"You want in? Because I could give two shits less what the fucking Council says concerning _conflict of interest_." The N7 said, looking at the Marshal.

Collins looked at Jannie for a good long moment, and the redhead could see those blue eyes contemplating.

"Before I say yes or no," Sam began, "you should know what I do. As a Clandestine Operative of the Office of Special Tactics, it's my job to monitor Relay traffic. Any and every ship that jumps a Relay gets logged by the Relay itself… in which the master control unit is here on the Cit." Jannie felt a little cold ball grow in her guts at that. She hadn't known that, though it did make sense. The Relays were built by the Protheans, as was the Cit. It would make sense that the center of _their_ Empire would also hold the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. "Now, those logs don't tell you much beyond mass, dimensions, energy output, departure and arrival date/time stamps," Collins continued, "but a dedicated individual _can_ monitor traffic. Especially if they begin recognizing patterns."

"Like the Geth?" Ryder asked, perking up.

"Like the Geth." The Marshal replied, nodding her head. "I bet you've wondered how the Geth have managed to get into Alliance Space beyond Citadel Defense and Alliance patrols."

"I was thinking an undiscovered Relay in our territory that they've unlocked, letting them bypass our defensive screens." Jannie realized that Collins _knew_.

"I would have noticed." Marse answered. "No, I'm sad to say it's much more nefarious than that, Captain. It took me a bit to figure out because we thought it impossible.

"The Geth are _catapulting_ Relays."

"You mean… a one-way trip with no terminator?" Sara's voice said it all; a mixture of fear and awe. That sort of thing _was_ impossible on a number of fronts. One had to hack a Relay (which was beyond any singular individual, or even a damn good team considering the Prothean electronic security was a mutating algorithmic code that was in _their_ language, which wasn't decrypted), and then use a Relay as a slingshot, having to compute a trajectory that wasn't pre-ordained and land in a spot that didn't have a collision at the end of it, accounting for distance and drift. That was _well_ beyond what an organic could do. Hell, even a damn good math-heavy VI would have a wide margin of error considering the distances. Mass Relays took care of most of the issues being pre-ordained flights and a powerful networked system of VI's that did the calculations based upon the mass of a ship, its energy output, dimensions, amount of Eezo draw, and a myriad of other factors that trained pilots studied and practiced on.

One didn't merely approach a Relay and use it like some Cit Transit Aircar getting off at an exit point from the Common Lanes. It required math, synching, certain level draws, and knowledge of how much of a static charge a vessel could take over distance. Small vessels couldn't translate some of the longer connecting distances, having to do shorter 'jumps' at interconnecting Relays while larger vessels, like _Carrier_ -Classes and _Dreadnaught_ -Classes could make jumps in the ten-kiloparsec range. Part of the _Normandy_ had been crafted to make such long jumps despite its _Frigate_ -Class size, rated for even the longest of translations, in which most Frigates could only do small-to-medium translations equaling half-a-dozen kiloparsecs; good enough for Earth Alliance Space, but not for the entirety of the galaxy.

What Marshal Samantha Collins was suggesting was that the Geth were translating from a Relay… and landing in empty space without a terminator Relay. That… _should_ be impossible. The math to make such a jump was incredible, and there was no doubt that the Geth were doing it from _outside_ Council Space.

"Captain, the Geth are _jumping_ from the Perseus Veil."

"Holy _fuck…_ " Jannie did a double-take. The distance…! "That's… sixteen kiloparsecs away! Fifty _thousand_ lightyears!" The Milky Way was only forty thousand lightyears across from the Scutum-Centaurus Arm to the Outer Rim Arm. The Perseus Veil technically laid _outside_ of the proper Milky Way, trailing behind the Perseus Arm in which the region of space inherited its name from. The longest Relay-to-Relay translation was just over ten kiloparsecs, a jump only Turian Hierarchy and Asari Republic Dreadnoughts could make due to their ability to hold such an incredible static build-up charge. Anything else would disintegrate mid-jump. Sixteen in a singular jump? That was… _unthought_ of! "How in the fuck?"

"ProTech. More like ProData." Sara spoke out loud, her near-genius brain going into overdrive as the Angel slowly nodded her head. "Protheans built the Relays, so they could access their full use and capabilities. We inherited a flawed, lesser version of it, our tech nowhere near as capable. The Geth must have Prothean data caches we've never encountered, perhaps data on how to do just that. Build ships specifically capable of catapulting, not having to worry about organic concerns? Yes, that would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" Sara looked to Jannie. "If the Geth Fleets are jumping without a terminator point? They can land _anywhere_."

"Earth's vulnerable." Shepard got the point Ryder was making, and Collins grunted with that. "Fuck, _everyone's_ vulnerable. It must take them time to configure the ships for the jump, making the calculations and possibly waiting for cosmic weather for better prediction. There was a ten-day difference between Eden Prime and Therum. Either it took them that long to realize they needed Doctor Liara T'soni, or it took ten days for the criteria to be met. Might be a shifting variable where it isn't always possible, but certainly an usable idea."

"Scary is what it is, but the Angel is right." The Marshal agreed, nodding. "It's the only logical conclusion that I can come up with; the Geth must have discovered a Prothean cache that gives them the necessary quantum equations to make such a jump feasible. I still haven't figured out what their need for the Beacon on Eden Prime was about, or why they would assist Arterius if it was he that needed it. I'm not a hundred percent certain what they have in common to work in concert with one another. What does Saren have that the Geth would want? Likewise, why would Saren turn traitor? Based off the recording that your Quarian Pilgrim Tali'Zorah gleaned from the Geth, they don't actually have what Saren wants, this… Conduit. Or these Reapers."

"The Geth want the same thing as Saren? But how would they know that, and how did they discover that they both want the same thing?" Ryder continued mulling it over. "More pieces to the puzzle, but not enough for a decent picture, I think. Plus the involvement of Lady Benezia T'soni. That confuses the hell out of me. She was Thessia's Ambassador to Earth for like… five years. She didn't join forces with Saren because she hates Humanity."

"I had forgotten about that." Jannie admitted, remembering when the former Ambassador had been named during the Council session in which Saren Arterius had been stripped of his title and citizenry of both the Citadel and the Hierarchy. Benezia T'soni was labeled a 'sapient-of-interest' considering all they had was a singular recording of her voice speaking to Saren, but no other information or intelligence. While Matriarch T'soni was nowhere to be found in her domicile in Serrice, and likewise unable to be located anywhere in CitSpace, no one had any idea why a former Priestess and Ambassador would join forces with a Council Agent in the first place. She hadn't been requested through the Council, and Saren hadn't reported her involvement before being exposed as a Rogue Agent, either. It was… confusing. Councilor Tevos T'essus had been similarly perplexed, mentioning that Matriarch T'soni was actually more affable towards Humanity than most Asarikin, being one of the first voices to invite and include the newly-discovered Sons and Daughters of Earth in the days after the First Contact War. She was a supporter of Humanity. Now it seemed to be that she was working _against_ them, and no one had any idea why.

"Her daughter has no idea, but that I understand since they've been out of contact for like twenty years, some sort of major falling out that's actually public record." Jannie continued. "And Doctor T'soni is too shy and introverted to make even a crappy espionage agent. Sara met her in Therum before the attack on Eden Prime, and Liara's movements are easily followed, as well as her transactions. Detective Vakarian vetted everything she's done, and I was satisfied with both his work and conclusions. What her mother is up to has the intellidicks of ONI scratching their heads." Someone as rich and as influential as Lady T'soni in league with a Rogue Council Agent was quite foreboding. As Jannie understood it, the House Matriarch of the T'soni Family of Serrice was _super-fucking-rich_ in the way that most other rich Asari Matriarchs described as _super-fucking-rich_. She had seen the potential finances thanks to Garrus' work, and Jannie had almost shit herself at the thought that Lady Benezia could purchase a full fleet and fund it for the next several decades. Easily. If that was what she was doing to Saren was anyone's guess.

"Now you see why I have an issue just leaving." Collins continued. "I might not be able to tell where the Geth are heading, but I can tell when they're leaving. Me staying here means you'll have direct access to SPECTRE intelligence and events. I go, and I'll be another qualified shooter, but that'll be it."

"What are the chances of Saren having some 'friends' still inside the Office of Special Tactics?" Sara asked, and it was a damn good question. Avitus Rix alluded to such a possibility, and it couldn't be discounted, especially if there were more than a few who hated Humanity and didn't mind seeing Terrans knocked down a peg or five. "My big worry is… well, assassination."

"I wish I could say that I'm confident in that wouldn't be the case." The Marshal replied ruefully. "Truth is, there's more than a few 'Incident' Vets in the Office of Special Tactics, being the last real major action the Turians have had. Most of them are quite endearing, let me tell you. Would one of them love to see me brought down? More than a few. Killed out right?" Jannie watched the Butcher's right hand do a see-saw motion. "I think the premise of it would ward them away. But I don't doubt one or two might try to find a way to get away with it. If I really started digging into Saren's _clochea_ and track his movements? Yeah, I think it's a pretty safe bet. We're all armed here, and all it takes is a draw and a trigger squeeze."

"Marse? This will be a close as I get to thumping you over the head and dragging you along for the ride as I get." The N7 told her counterpart, looking into Sam's blue eyes. "I owe Nihlus. He gave me a fair chance, and if the only way I'll ever get to repay him is to skull-fuck his killer and keep his wife protected? Then I'll do that. Do what you need to get yourself ready for shipping out in the next two days, and then join us and help us hunt down that piece of shit. Why be in danger by yourself when I can throw you into the fire with a bunch of friends at your back?"

"Gee, don't sell it _too_ hard, Jane." Sam smiled a little, but her blue eyes were twinkling. Shepard knew what that was; revenge talking. "Here I thought the Lion of Elysium was suppose to be some sort of paragon of goodness?"

"And here I thought the Butcher of Torfan was some sort of blood-thirsty renegade maniac? Who knew?" That had Collins laugh as Sara hid her own chuckle. "Hell, wait until you see Sara in action. Kiddo here ripped off a Krogan's headplate."

"No shit?" The Marshal looked to the Angel, who blushed a little. "Next time? Go for the roof of the mouth. I found a soft spot there."

* * *

Author's Note: I don't know if it was Canon or ever has been Canon, but I've seen more than a few times that Thessia was hit with an asteroid some four to six thousand years in the past, prompting Asari space exploration out of protection and necessity instead of discovery. While Thessia is heavily laced with Eezo, I don't believe it actually contains a high amount of Eezo ore, merely dust and particulates. The War of Queens is borrowed from _LogicalPremise's_ concept from the Asari, where Asari warlords vied for continental control.

SMARTpaper? Imagine an electronic newspaper. Foldable OLED screen paper with updating news instead of a datapad. This can be possible in the next ten years with the advent of OLED technology that has emerged in the last few years.

76 degrees Celsius is 170 degrees Fahrenheit… which is what Codsworth brews your coffee to in the prelude of Fallout 4. Perfect for the pre-apocalypse.

The Nemean Abyss - Found in the Spinward-Coreward side of the Galaxy (NW, about 10 o'clock, towards the core) near the southern-most border of the Terminus Sector, the Nemean Abyss is a debris field of micro blackholes, pulsars, heavy interstellar dust, gravitational fluxes, and other anomalies that make exploration and settlement chancy. It's de facto capital is Cartagena Station, the semi-canon station from CDN wikia.

Charnel House - Generally, a house of slaughter or death. Traditional a house where corpses or skeletal remains are interred. A 'Charnel House Planet' on the other hand is a planet that had life, but was obliterated for some reason, with nothing but ruins left behind. Honestly, an Asari would never call a planet a 'Charnel House' as the word is French in origin. Blame the Universal Translator.

Jane Shepard jokes? Really? I did promise them several chapters ago. Four of them are, in fact, Chuck Norris jokes, but the Mass Relay one is original. Thanks to Anknownymous for helping me come up with this loony idea and running with it. I might make a few more 'Commander Shepard facts' about the galaxy's greatest!

I cover a little bit of the FCW/R314I. Yes, Humanity went insurgent during the Incident, making IED's.

I touched a little on the Skyllian Blitz, too, and made Haliat something more than a… whatever that mess was suppose to be. Prestige criminal, really? A major Insurgent leader with an Iran-Contra Affair deal with the Batarian Hegemony, on the other hand, sounds war-sexy. I could probably do a story on that.

The Red Harvest? I have made mention that Garrus and Sara know one another from before, and intentionally have left it vague. Jannie has mentioned it, and even Ash has heard of it. But no one knows what the Red Harvest is. You'll find out before/after the Feros Arc.

I made a _Tango and Cash_ reference. God that movie is so stupdiculous, and the one-liners so cheesy. Couldn't pass it up.

The Office of Special Tactics- The concept was actually several years of ideas put together. The 'Hub' (mission control) was an idea that was between NASA, the War Room that POTUS uses that we see in movies (and likely pretty accurate) and what we saw in the FBI Situation Room in the movie _Live Free Or Die Hard_ (which likely is also accurate). I have seen… something close to this in real life, though none of those places. What do you think the Army Intelligence Branch Office in Baghdad looks like? I didn't see that, but I saw a much less component.

For those who have read "Where The Law Stands Tall", I brought back Marshal Sam Collins and introduced what she was going to do for the Office of Special Tactics into this story with the undone idea of "The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand" that would have followed "A Fox Amongst The Wolves". I worked too much and too long with Sam to just let her disappear forever. Congrats, you got your gunslinger back. She's much like what she was from WTLST, but I highlighted a few differences.

Sam is the Butcher. Which is seen as a good thing. Dropping convicts onto a slave pen sounds like a horrible idea… sadly it's been done before with mixed results. I wanted a slightly different spin than the Canon Butcher, who was seen as… an anti-hero/nefarious good guy for some reason.

Torfan is actually a moon, but its planet was never mentioned. So I made it a moon of Aratoth, where the 'Arrival' DLC mission takes place. Why not? We already know it's a shithole.

Was Nihlus left on Eden Prime? The Council didn't seem too perturbed at the murder/death of one of their vaulted Agents. I think I would have mentioned something at Saren's lack of diabolical rage at the loss of a protege and friend just to cast blame somewhere else. Some _pseudo_ rage rant of 'I'm going to find who killed my friend and rip his fucking head off' would have done wonders. In this story, Nihlus Kryik's body was recovered and taken back to the Citadel on the _Normandy_. Jenkins was _not_ recovered. You find out why later. But you might guess.

Lady Matriarch Benezia T'soni - I think I've mentioned before somewhere that her involvement would be explained better than the game. In Mass Effect, she 'joined' Saren to turn him from his 'dark path' (gee, what, is she a Jedi or something?) but nothing else. The one time you meet her (rocking out with the Rachni Queen) she really doesn't get into the why of it, fully indoctrinated save that Saren's will filled her with light. What, was she going to meldfuck him into being good? What sense does that make?

In Canon, Benezia was mentioned to being Thessia's Ambassador for Humanity (it didn't mention if that was for Earth itself, the Systems Alliance, or the species as a whole). This doesn't explain why she joined forces with an obvious Human-hater initially before Reaper Jelly turned her Asari Sith Lord. Her initial involvement was never explained. Even Councilor Tevos was stumped as to why a respected member of the Thessian community (and supposedly really rich, too) went and joined forces. While we know it was indoctrination that turned Benezia, the game never explains why an 800 year old Matriarch gave a shit about some 40 year old Turian SPECTRE going 'dark'. How would she of known in the first place (and the other SPECTREs missing this factoid) or why she would have cared unless she was trying to protect Humanity from a racist Turian by 'guiding' him away from his path of revenge.

I'm going a different route. You'll see. And I think you'll like. Those random data disks had to be good for something besides random Credits and XP.


	18. Center Of The Known Universe, III

_Hold on! I'm looking for this Star Forge map thingie… can you stop blowing up my planet?_

 **SPECTRE Logistical Branch, Frostline District, Block 1730 (Mid-Wards), Bachjret Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 1, 2183**

Author's Note: If you needed a little more cowboy in your Mass Effect story, you've come to the right place.

Everyone's favorite gunslinging Marshal from 'Where The Law Stands Tall' is back in action.

This chapter is mostly an expose on the awesomeness of SPECTREs, something barely touched in the game, but something I delved into hard in "WTLST" in _Libera Nos A Malo, VIII_ with the Miracle of Therum, creating SPECTREs that we were promised… but BioWare didn't really deliver. They're suppose to be the best, armed and armored with the best. Now I'm going to show you the best.

Knuckle up!

* * *

Alliance Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins opened the biometrically-locked door for her guests, Captain Jane Catherine Shepard and Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder having followed her from her personally-issued X3M contragravity conveyance to the Mid-Wards of the 1700 Block in the Bachjret Arm. The sight of the location would undoubtedly have a reaction as she led her companions to the SPECTRE Logistical Branch, where the Office of Special Tactics kept their weaponry, armor, and equipment. It was also responsible for the research and development of said equipment, to keep Council Agents at the very peak of their game, as well as vessel registry on loan to SPECTREs. Sam had reached the front door and turned slightly to look upon the faces of the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria, to see their reaction.

"You're kidding me. _Here?_ " Sara asked, her voice incredulous as she looked up to the building in question, a ten-story building nestled between an office park and a commercial depot. Shepard had a stumped look upon her face, both the N7 and the Corpsman having being told that they would be visiting the SLB, affectionately known as the 'House Of Boom', coined by the first Turian SPECTREs over a millennium ago. Like all the SPECTRE Offices, they were fronts and covers to their real identity, and Sam remembered the first time she had seen some of them herself, wondering whom thought themselves clever. The SPECTRE Intelligence Branch was under the most ludicrous and asinine Citadel government agency in existence, the Office of Civil Complaints; a bureaucratic mis-mash created to make Citadel Citizens (jokingly called 'CitCitz' by C-SEC and SPECTREs alike) feel like their needs were being addressed. The Office of Civil Complaints was, in fact, the worst joke in existence, and everyone knew it. Having the SIB underneath it, the best Intelligence Agency in the galaxy, just made it that more ironic.

The House of Boom was labeled as the Volus Cultural Center.

"You've got to be fucking shitting me." The Cit-born commented as she shook her head. Collins understood the disbelief, she had felt herself the first time she had gone to the SPECTRE Logistical Branch. The N7 had the same disbelieving look upon her face, the redhead merely shaking her head as she looked at what had to be yet another ironic joke; at one point in time, someone on the Council had a quirky sense of humor. That the weapons of the SPECTREs would be in, around, or under a Cultural Center of the species least adapted for fighting outside of their ancestral planet? Someone was a troll, evidently. " _Here?!_ " Ryder just looked at her with utter disbelief. "And how do the Irunians feel about this?"

"You'll see." Sam replied as the biometrically-locked door opened to reveal a common airlock access, the interior door locked and shut as was proper. Together, the three women filed in, Ryder looking a little worried. No doubt she was thinking of the planetary conditions of Irune; high atmospheric pressure and a chlorine-nitrogen-based atmosphere. Shepard was looking at the dimensions of the airlock, but a space-born would know more about airlocks than anyone else.

"False airlock." The N7 noted, no doubt noticing that the atmospheric pressure wasn't changing, nor was the atmosphere being exchanged. "Are there actually any Volus in here, or is it just a pretty sign?"

"The door guard is a Volus. I wouldn't test him or his patience." Collins replied as the inner door flashed blue for access, the airlock door sliding open to reveal a rather common looking lobby with what appeared to be an enclosed reception desk built for a Volus. Sam merely waived at Cur Dileed, the resident SPECTRE door guard whose primary functions were financial investigations and frying fools. The Dileed Clan Volus was something of a financial genius, and could trace Creds like a wolf with the hint of blood, as Sam understood it. As a ship-hunter herself, she understood that the most successful were defined by those who understood the intricacies the best. The suited Volus in his environmentally-protected suit merely watched the three Human's behind goggled eyes, almost intimidating. For a meter tall, meter round creature? That was actually an impressive accomplishment. Sam placed her hand on the biometric reader in the lobby, letting it scan her fingerprints, DNA, bioelectrical field, eyes and voice sample to confirm her identity before heading to the turbolift airlock bay. Jane and Sam were doing the same thing, getting the blue light of acceptance under the watchful eyes of Cur Dileed, who undoubtedly had his hand on the 'purge' button if someone didn't pass. No one would survive the 'purge' button no matter their armor or species. Once Ryder's blue light came on, Sam led them to the left-most 'airlock', opening it and letting her guests in. Jane grunted as the doors closed and the vehicle moved.

"Auntie?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to like it here." Sara told Jane, the Angel all smiles as the both of them realized the deception. The Volus Cultural Center really _was_ a Cultural Center… at ground level and above. The turbolift moved _forward_ , though, gliding around the building and towards the back where the architectural plans _didn't_ have a void where the turbolift would drop down ten meters to the level _below_ it. Shepard felt the downward shift, and Sara's jaw dropped open. "There's a basement level?" No Cit building had a 'basement', though there were Keeper tunnels. "How the hell does no one notice a level not connected to anything but the ceiling in the Lower Wards?"

"Optical illusion." Collins replied, knowing the answer since she had asked it once herself. Even knowing it was there, she couldn't find it, and she had looked. "There's a few places like that on the Cit, most everyone blithely unaware. Since there's no flight allowed in the Ward interiors save for C-SEC and CitEMS, a level just on the ceiling is a safe call as no one flies that close to it."

"Except Flight Officer Kaius fucking Contenus." The Angel grumped, making the Marshal frown. She had forgotten that Ryder was once a former CitEMS Paramedic; first Human to do so, actually, at the tender age of fifteen. Sara had used Turian cultural rules about age to her advantage, fifteen being a citizen adult in the Hierarchy and the Cit. It had actually been approved since Humans and Turians lived about the same lengths of time, not to mention that Sara was likely smarter than most save for Matriarchs and Salarian male _Chenobits_ , the five or so males in a clutch that were smarter than their brothers, usually slated for the Union Government, mostly STG or scientific endeavors. Sam didn't doubt Sara being accepted into the Presidium Academy of Education had something to do with that. The Marshal assumed that Officer Contenus was the pilot for her Skybulance. She had heard rumors that there was a crazy fucking Turian that flew for the CitEMS, holding flight records for response times.

The turbolift that looked like an airlock to keep up appearances arrived at its destination, the basement level of the Volus Cultural Center. The interior door opened to the normal Cit atmosphere and not an Irunian one as Collins moved forward with Shepard and Ryder in tow, seeing a few members inside the lobby of what was the massive level that was the armory for the Office of Special Tactics, the SPECTRE Logistical Branch. Scuttlebutt in the Home Office said that if it were a weapon or a piece of armor, the House of Boom collected it, possessed it, improved upon it, and used it before sending it out with SPECTREs. Sam completely and utterly believed the rumor; she had reason to. The lobby was a plain one with several doors, one leading to the weapons locker, another to the armor palace, a third to the the testing facility, and the last one to the 'range'.

"To the Palace first." The Marshal said, pointing out the door in question. "There you'll both be fitted with your custom-crafted bodysuits and MasterGear Armor. There is literally nothing else better on the market, each and every one of them fitted and tailored to each SPECTRE based on body dimensions, comfort, efficiency, and… combat outlooks." Sam turned to look at the Lion before entering the door. "You're going to ask someone to make it look like the _Predator_ or something else weird?" Sam had seen pictures of the Lion in action, and she was always noticeable amongst the troops due to her 'customized' look, modifying the look of her armor to some antiquated superhero or vid action hero.

"Mmmmmmaybe." The N7 had a small smile on her face while the Angel merely shook her head. The door opened to the Palace to where the room was really just a super high-tech scanning facility in which a person stood upon a raised platform and several machines would scan every millimeter of the sapients' body, not merely just the surface, either.

Collins began to explain what made SPECTRE armor so advanced; personal customization. Both Jane and Sara stood in the room as the Marshal talked, telling them how they would go through a series of tests to analyze heart rate, blood pressures, adrenal responses, organ function, oxygen diffusion pulseoxymetry, chemical composition, blood flow, power requirements, hydration requirements, radiation tolerances, and biological elimination processes, to name a few. A standard armor company made armor generic; one bought Aldrin Labs Onyx Armor, and it was one-size-fits-most. One could adjust for body mass and height, but that was generally it. Customization was needed to turn basic armor into something more tailored, but one was merely modifying an existing platform, and could only do so much. Such work was expensive, and modifications didn't always mesh with an armors' software management suite, sometimes glitching or failing to mesh in case one wanted something that enhanced performance or added to operational longevity. Generally, if one added to some aspect of an armor, something else suffered in return, a balance always existing.

SPECTRE MasterGear Armor, like its weapons, was fabricated in-house. Highly-advanced and specialized OmniForges rated for exotic metals, ceramics, and polymers crafted a specialized and fitted suit of armor in which advanced-processing VI managers already detailed the listings of power management, electronic pathways, servos, and actuators needed with best possible locations for the sapient in question. The armor was built from the ground up from highly-detailed evasive scans of the sapient's biological physiology and combat preferences, the hardware and software engineering details of the armor included and arranged for optimal performance. Unlike common armors, made of synthsilk fabrics and flexible light polymers for the sealed bodysuit, tempered ceramics made of carbonized crystalline, and shelled in alumnisteel, MasterGear Armor was crafted with some of the best material available… generally off-market. High-density monomolecular supra-tensile flexible polymers for the bodysuit to withstand impacts and environments, plasma-forged triceramic cores as hard as diamonds, and shelled in rare earth alloys such as titanium-reinforce iridium. The electronic components were also of a severe degree of advancements, like spintronic resistors, tri-gate transistors, kinetic defense weave emitters, nanotech processors, intrinsic field wiring, heuristic-based VI algorithm modules, and advanced battery reserves that gave the armor the ability to go longer and harder than anything else available by purchase or craft.

Each SPECTRE MasterGear Armor was valued in the megaCredits. Easily.

"Alright, I need you to step onto the scanner here," Collins told the two women, pointing to the ring on the floor that had three rotating scanners attached to servo arms that would spin around the person. "The system will register your species, height, weight, dimensions, cardiovascular system, lymphatic system, endocrine system, pulmonary system, and… are either one of you Biotic?"

"Yes." Sara Rider replied, nodding her head. "I doubt the SPECTREs will have a better Amp for a Human than the one my mother made." Ah, that was right. Doctor Ellen Ryder was the premiere Biotic researcher for Humanity. It didn't surprise Sam at all that she would have given her daughter possibly the best Biotic Implant and Amp that one could possibly have, even more so that what one might purchase. The SPECTRE Home Office had advanced Amps for Asari, Turians, Salarians, Drell, and Volus, but none for Humans. Sara, Humanity's Firstborn on the Cit, would be the first. "Is it just weapons and armor, or is it… everything?"

"Amps, OmniTools, armor, weapons, visors, electronic and financial accounts, secured communications protocols, software management suites… the works." Sam smiled slightly, seeing the younger woman gape a little. She once looked like that when she had asked that very same question to Nihlus Kryik. That had her heart ache, and she willed the grief down. "Go ahead and remove everything but undergarments before stepping onto the scanner and I'll commence with the process, which will take fifteen minutes. Captain? You're first." There was no disguising her tone or the heavy weight on her heart. It hadn't even been a month since the _Normandy's_ return from the ill-fated mission on Eden Prime.

Collins watched as Jane Catherine Shepard removed her Alliance Battle Duty Uniform, peeling off the blue-and-black blouse and pants to reveal the black Underarmor shirt she wore on her torso and a pair of pink female-oriented boyshorts. Someone was obviously self-conscious about panty lines appearing through their uniform, the Marshal mused silently. Sam felt an eyebrow raise up when the redhead pulled off her shirt to heroically show that she was wearing a _very_ pink Underarmor Crossback Medium-Impact sports bra.

"Geez, Auntie, did you kill and skin a Hanar?" Ryder stood there with her arms folded across her chest, making her muscular arms seem much more so, her rolled-up sleeves adding to the physicality. Collins had been a little surprised meeting the Angel of Illyeria, knowing of the thirteen-year old young woman from the media only to see a twenty-year old female minor bodybuilder. 'Shocking' didn't quite cover it, that transition from cute little cherub of a girl to a Navy Corpsman that looked ready to wrestle a Turian to the ground. And win. Shepard merely rolled her eyes at Sara's comment as she walked towards the scanner.

Jane Shepard was easily an impressive woman to look upon, Sam noted. Just shy of being full-figured, years of working out, training, and being in Special Forces had ripped any excess fat from her body and replaced them with an athletic build, sure and solid. The Marshal noted the scars of several gunshot wounds among the six-pack of her abdomen, and Sam was reminded that Jane had almost died protecting Elysium. No doubt hidden behind her sports bra was another gunshot wound near her heart. There were a few other minor marks and scars, but nothing disfiguring or noticeable. Shepard was an interesting blend of femininity and athleticism. "Matching set? Who were you planning to impress? The weight room?" The smile on Sara's face was full of piss-and-vinegar, and Sam had to stop herself from chuckling. The Angel could snark.

"Watch it, kiddo. You're next." The Lion told the Angel as Jane stepped onto the scanner, standing in a more relaxed position of attention as Collins activated the scanner, the triple-set of arm servos rotating in different directions and speeds, each scanner tracing faint blue lines of progress over the body of Jane Shepard as they mapped in detail the dimensions and biological composition of her body as the Lion stood there patiently, neither fretting or fidgeting. Surprisingly, the process didn't seem to take forever as the status bar dinged is completion after fifteen minutes. Shepard stepped off and moved back to where her uniform rested. "Your turn, brat."

"You just didn't want to miss the gun show." Sara winked at her 'Aunt', Collins sighing at the sight of familial rivalry and respect. At least this portion of her personality of Sara's Collins had been aware of thanks to the dozen or so interviews after Elysium, an effervescent thirteen-year old girl with wit and brains. That always made for an interesting combination.

But then someone had gone and slapped a shit ton of _muscles_ on her.

Marshal Collins was a bit shocked when Sara Elaine Ryder began to take off her own Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniform, the shorter woman pulling her blouse by undoing her rolled-up sleeves first so that they would actually _slide_ off her muscular biceps and triceps instead of having to yank it off. The Alliance Blues blouse came off to reveal the Systems Alliance-issue black Underarmor shirt that didn't disguise Sara's physique at all. Dear fucking God, the Angel of Illyeria looked like she popped PED's for breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner! Sam knew that wasn't true as the Systems Alliance tested its Sailors and Marines for 'unwarranted' pharmaceuticals, and Hospital Corpsmen twice as much, but seeing thick shoulders and a very muscular torso had Collins more than a little shocked.

Sara was a short woman, a good deal shorter than average. When Humanity had been introduced to the Angel of Illyeria in the days following the Assault on Elysium, she had been a petite and lithe girl just hitting her teenage years, boyish and all knees and elbows. Still short, but all similarities from the thirteen-year old Gold Ribbon-awardee to the twenty-year old Navy Corpsman ended there. Shepard was an athletic woman, an athletically-figured woman that bordered upon 'muscular', staying just short of it. Ryder, on the other hand? Muscular, almost hitting into the exaggerated category. If Sara wanted, she could likely enter into bodybuilding competitions for her weight class, as few competitors as there might be for someone of her height, having a lower weight due to biology. The Underarmor shirt did nothing to disguised the ripped tone of Sara Ryder's musculature, her abdominal muscles more defined than Shepard's' or her own, her arms thicker, her shoulders broader. Mother of God, Sara could easily walk onto the cover of a Men's Health e-magazine and show _men_ up! The Corpsman's pants and Underarmor shirt came off next, and Sam had to shake her head at the sight of the Angel's undergarments. No paragon of virtue, there.

"Black lace?" Jane sounded too amused for her own good. Indeed, Sara Ryder was wearing a black lace triangle bra and a matching pair of black lace thong. That implied one thing, really. They weren't exactly fully opaque, either. "Really utilizing your time on the Cit, huh?" The Lion was teasing her friend and near-sister, giving it just as good as the Angel.

"I have a death wish, see you all in hell." That had Collins laughing hard as Sara stood there with her muscular arms across her small breasts but muscular chest, standing in a nonchalant manner with a smirk that was _way_ too smarmy for its own good. "Though, in my defense, I didn't know I'd be half-naked doing this. And I did just get off a date."

"Get off a date, or get off _on_ your date?" The redhead was certainly feeling her oats as Sara went to the scanner, Collins still chuckling.

"There's a difference?" Ryder replied, her grin a light year wide. "It's okay, Auntie. I'm sure the Gods of Chasity will make sure your picture doesn't lose its vaulted position." Collins snorted as she activated the scanner, the servos beginning to spin the scanning arms around the Angel as Shepard just looked at the younger woman with a dropped jaw.

"I'm so gonna kick your ass for that comment."

"Awww, does the N7 need a hug?" The Corpsman said with a smile as faint blue lines traced over her body. "Might want to get the SPECTRE armor first, Auntie." Sara's smirk was just too much as she lifted her arms up and flexed in a bodybuilders' pose, highlighting her musculature. Lunatics, the both of them.

Sam would fit right in.

* * *

The next step in the process, Petty Officer Sara Ryder discovered, was 'tailoring'.

SPECTRE MasterGear Armor was touted throughout the galaxy as the best armor in the business… period. Most suspected how, but the devil, as Humans were wont to say, were in the details. And Sara was getting a first-hand account on those details.

After scanning, Marshal Samantha Collins took them to the next room, where ultra high-grade OmniLooms were spinning Auntie's and hers' brand-new, highly-advanced ballistic bodysuits that, according to Marse, could actually take small caliber military round impacts, large caliber civilian pistol round impacts, and even shotgun spread from a distance of five meters or more. Like most ballistic bodysuits, they were rated for pressurization and survival of non-sapient environments, letting a user walk upon planets where the atmo or pressure was a bit too extreme for the species in question, tailored towards the evolution of the species in question. A Systems Alliance-issued bodysuit could handle up to four atmos to a quarter atmo, and generally negate Level One toxic hostile environments, though it didn't do well in caustic environments.

A SPECTREs body suit was much more than that.

The material was of a monomolecular design, a high-density weave that was flexible for movement but 'hardened' with kinetic force. Sara suspected an advanced polymer, or perhaps even Prothean technology… until she saw the OmniLoom and realized she was so, _so_ wrong.

" _Nanotechnology_?" The Cit-born asked, her voice hitching in her throat as she watched the ballistic bodysuits 'grow', for lack of a better term. It wasn't being fabricated and weaved in front of their eyes. Oh no, not that. It was literally _growing_ right in front of her eyes, obviously some sort of programmable material guided by nanomachines measuring in the micrometers… possibly picotechnology. Sara had no idea, never even suspected such a thing was possible. Even the blackest of BlackTech didn't use picotechnology, a degree smaller than NanoTech, able to make even more refined items. This was well beyond concept or even state-of-the-art. The ballistic bodysuits were _centuries_ ahead of current tech. It had to be ProTech, otherwise whoever had invented it would outfit their species with the same thing.

"It is a multi-layered suit that is crafted through the use of nanomachines, yes." The Marshal replied, getting Auntie to gape just as much as Sara. As good as Sara was with software and hardware, Auntie was better, having a knack for re-purposing weapons and armor and customizing it personally. "There are layers of BoPET and transNewtonian fluids, NanoGel, and integrated piezoelectric filaments for power distribution and management. There is also biosynthetic fibers that expand and contract upon body moment, augmenting the users' physicality."

"A muscle suit." Shepard figured it out at the same time Sara did. "What's BoPET?"

"Biaxially-oriented Polyethylene Terephthalate. Commonly referred to as Mylar." Ryder informed her best friend, who looked at Sara with a strange look.

"Like, the stuff for balloons?"

"But much more dense, thicker, and with augmented properties to resist impacts and force." Sam explained, impressing even Sara. ProTech at a scale that she had never imagined. This wasn't items that one could make with even an advanced fabrication suite. Every level of manufacturing was likely something beyond state-of-the-art, from the materials, to the process of manufacturing, to the finished product. With this level of equipment, it was a wonder how SPECTREs died. _Overwhelmed_ would be her first guess, with a mountain of corpses of the fools who tried and failed in front of them, likely. Blasting them while in space was likely the easiest method, avoiding personal combat. Mylar was rated for high-tensile strength, chemical and dimensional stability, gas and aroma barrier properties, transparency, reflectivity, and electrical insulation. Ryder never would have guessed to use Mylar as a replacement for the common Nomex/Kevlar that Systems Alliance ballistic bodysuits used. As Jannie said it, Mylar was usually associated with helium-filled balloons for birthdays. "There are other materials and properties to it, woven and crafted into the molecular structure of the bodysuit," _holy shit_ , Sara realized, knowing what that meant, "and the bodysuit alone is better protection than, say, a standard suit of Aldrin Labs' Light Onyx Armor."

"You can change the molecular structure? On the spot?" That was what NanoTech was suppose to do, but no one advertised using NanoTech. Not unless one wanted a SPECTRE to visit them or a kinetic strike delivered onto their skulls. NanoTech was against the Citadel Conventions and the Treaty of Farixen unless approved by the Council of Law, much like Artificial Intelligences and organic technology. That approval list was _very_ short. To fabricate _molecules_? That literally meant that one only needed the base elements and the knowledge of the molecular structure to fit as needed. Old Earth legends had a name for this process; _alchemy_. One couldn't turn lead into gold, even with NanoTech (supposedly), but one could turn base components into any kind of alloy, polymer, synthesized material, or inert metal. No need to forge, heat, mold, press, or any other complicated process. Add, program, and nanomachines would craft the object desired into the structure and dimensions desired. "Geez, I'm almost afraid to ask how expensive that NanoForge is. Unless…" She looked to Jannie. "No one invented it, did they? It was found. It's ProTech."

"You certainly are an Alumni of the Presidium Academy of Education. But yes, it is a piece of Prothean technology, the only one of its kind ever located." The Marshal confirmed, and both Auntie and her shared a look. Jannie was thinking the same thing she was thinking; _no one would give up the 'only' one._ While it was Council Law to 'share' all Prothean technology, knowledge, research, and data, Sara had witnessed first-hand how well that worked out on Therum between the Serrice Team and the Oxford Team. She wouldn't be surprised at all if the Asari, the Salarians, the Turians, and the Hanar had kept certain finds and knowledge to themselves. Hell, hadn't there been some ancient ship the Salarians had discovered a couple decades back that the Batarians had taken and claimed the whole thing a hoax? Who knew what had been on that ancient ship?

"So… what are your preferences for armor?"

"Uh oh." Sara smiled as she looked to Jannie, who was already all smiles, her face lighting up like it was Earth Christmas. "You're going to actually try to have MJOLNIR Armor from HALO again, aren't you?"

"Maaaaaybe." The Lion smiled, the redhead's grin getting even bigger. "But _Iron Man_ would be cool, too. I wouldn't mind having the _Falcon's_ wings."

"Is she being realistic?" Collins asked, a little amused. Sara sighed and merely nodded her head. "How about I hand you a list of what we _can_ actually do to your armor, and the weight and power capabilities while I work with Sara. I think she'll be more reasonable."

"List! Gimme!" Shepard was practically dancing in her boots at the thought of seeing a list of advanced modifications and augmentations that she could have in her armor as Ryder rolled her eyes. Auntie and her toys! Sam shook her head as she pulled out a blank datapad and downloaded the aforementioned list to the electronic device before handing it to the Captain.

"There's really only a few things I'm interested in." The Corpsman told the Marshal as she too got a list from Sam. The datapad's information was organized into categories, each one highlighting a specific type of combat or orientation. One was 'Soldier', another 'Infiltrator', a third 'Engineer'. There were six categories in all, and she ended up looking at the one labeled 'Sentinel'. It expanded to sub-categories, and she saw that the primary idea was defensive operations. Sara saw that she could customize her armor to better defend herself from physical attacks, a better physics threshold, higher-quality kinetic defense emitters and shield generators, an electromagnetic defense field generator that would advert rounds that weren't precisely aimed, and even BlueWare for better Biotic strength and control. Each option had capabilities, power requirements, space allowance, and best integration ratios. Someone had diligently tested each product to maximize performance for the SPECTRE in question. She also saw a list of modifications that she could add to her armor, everything from extra shield batteries, environmental capabilities, inertia dampeners, hardwire connectivity to protect against data theft and intrusion, and even ablative coating to better protect against round impacts. "Can I incorporate one of my own ideas into the armor? I created a battle-deployable OmniGel Tech Armor that secrets along the surface and hardens in a few seconds. It was really useful on Therum."

"You… made flash-forged armor?" Collins asked, more than a little shocked. "I know plates of OmniGel can be added electrostatically, but I've never heard of anyone making on-the-spot armor out of OmniGel in the middle of battle. Do you have the design?"

"Design, blueprints, program, and successful test deployment." Sara smiled, queuing up her OmniTool and finding her 'Tech Armor' App. "I used OmniGel dispersal modules and an electromagnetic field to keep its thickness even and to bond it together quickly while adhering it to the armor. It adds about half again as much impact resistance from rounds that are stripped of their force by shields, plus I instituted a sort of 'self-healing' program where more OmniGel would flood any cracks or pits made by damaging shots whenever my shields were dampened or overexerted, maximizing my protection as much as possible."

"That's… pretty damn impressive, actually." Ryder didn't doubt that others had tried the idea in the past, probably using different methods to explain why it hadn't worked out. Oh, likely some individual had something similar to a certain level of success. But she had just come off a siege-like mission where she held off the Geth for almost an entire day without any real noticeable injury, certainly no gunshot wounds. Yes, she was a Biotic, but that didn't grant immunity from bullets or harm. Biotics also tired a user out. Even a well-trained Asari Commando wouldn't be able to hold up a barrier for more than an hour in peace time, much less getting shot at. Having Biotics and OmniGel armor for extra protection meant that Sara had found a way to outlast her opponents while a dozen people defended against what sounded to be around a thousand Geth deployed on Therum. "I assume you'll be looking at upgrades for the components. Just be aware that each armor has a space limit and power limit. Consult the report for efficiency ratios and waste power percentages so you can maximize your armor to its fullest potential." There was a ghost of a smile on Collins' face. "I have a friend who pretty much loaded up on the heaviest armor to practically create near-invulnerable armor. Couldn't move very fast… but that's a Blackwatch Final Line Commando for you." That had the Corpsman nod in understanding. Final Line Commandos were deployed to hold the line while regular Hierarchy forces tactically retreated to make new defensive positions and readjust their tactics, buying them time. The motto for the Final Line was a grim one; ' _Peace Only Comes When Everyone Else Is Dead_ '. Not one unit of the Final Line had ever been known to retreat, suffering heavy losses but never breaking.

Sara looked over the options of materials, components, programs, cybersuites, electronic jamming, advanced VI modules, multi-core processors made of macroelectronic protein chips, and even the option of Quantum Frequency. There were literally hundreds of options, and she wondered who had invented them all. Most assumed Salarians as great inventors and builders, but Ryder knew that the Asari had several lucrative companies and programs to promote advancements, and the Quarians were hardly second-to-none, usually only behind due to minimal resources, not intelligence. Humanity had been playing catch up over the past two decades, taking pieces of alien tech and either adapting it for their own needs, improving upon it, or circumventing it for different lines of thought. In twenty-six years, Humanity's technology had jumped a century while crafting different ways and means to do things that the galaxy had grown comfortable with for over a few hundred years. It was one of the reasons why Humanity had its half-barbaric, half-worrisome reputation. Mankind had its rule-makers and rule-breakers; it had never been much of a rule-follower.

"Mother of God, Depleted _Eezo_ armor?" Sara looked to the Butcher in amazement, seeing that as an option for armor material. "Iridium Hexafloride? Titanium-sheathed Osmium?" The list of ultra-dense alloys were mind-boggling. Most of them were crafted into shape, incurring a heavy expense and taking quite a length of time to create. "Is… is there a way we can look up the Bloody Talon's armor and weapons?"

"I… shit, that never occurred to me." The Marshal's eyes got big, but she obviously saw the merit in the idea. "I know what Nihlus had; trimolecular-bonded Refined Aegisalt over lattice Platinum-infused Beryllium. It could take the full brunt of an anti-material rifle round even with its shields depleted. Let's see what Saren has." Collins moved over to a terminal, keying up a search program as Sara watched on, seeing the Marshal enter the name _Saren Talador Arterius_ in the search field. An alert came up for confirmation of identity, and Sam placed her hand onto the acceptance port to scan her DNA. The alert flashed blue, and the information was unlocked as Sara watched a Turian-sized wireframe crafted in front of her electronically, showing the arms and armor of former Council Agent Saren Arterius, known as the Bloody Talon.

"Oh shit." Ryder said simply as exploding explanations came from the trigraphic model of the armor, indicating make of materials and compositions of the armor, the placement of dataware modules and modifications for combat and investigations. She knew that Saren was a Biotic, a Cabal Strike Leader during the First Contact War, so it didn't surprise her to see that Saren had the most advanced Turian-oriented Biotic Amp and Implant available, more so than what a Cabalist or a Blackwatch member could get. It was like that for the rest of his armor as well; mylomar-enhanced reflex servos for quicker movement and reaction times, high-density depleted uranium shell over warped depleted Eezo core, an endoskeletal frame under the plates of armor for enhanced strength and speed, a polymath VI software management suite for broader connectivity for the various programs and systems relating to the armor and weapons he used. Seeing it described to her? Her heart practically stopped in her chest.

"That… can't be right." Sam pointed at something, a weapon that Sara looked at as well. "That requires permission from all three Councilors to release."

"A Beryllium Fission Generator 9000?" There was a holographic tag describing the object, something that was a meter-and-a-half long and looked to be containing… some sort of contained field of… "Is that an atomic weapon?" Sara's blood ran cold at the sight of the description of the weapon. Fissing a Beryllium atom released almost as much energy as it did Uranium, minus the fallout of atomic radiation. Something like that could have a man kill a _Corvette_ -Class vessel. Easily. The energy output was rated in the hundreds of kiloJoules, almost a megaJoule! That was close to the impact of a _Frigate_ -Class Alliance vessel's main gun! And Saren had that? "Oh fuck." There were other weapons, programs, sub-systems, and applications to enhance Saren, to turn one of the most lethal Turians to have ever lived into something even better. She saw displayed a date that indicated that Saren's current armor was upgraded to its current configuration with a CitDate that Ryder immediately converted to the Terran Calender.

"Auntie? You need to see this." The younger woman called out, Shepard still playing with armor options off to the side. Her tone broke the redhead's attention from her geeking out as the Lion looked over, Sara's eyes meeting green ones. "This is what we'll be facing."

Jane was soon there by her and Sam Collins, her eyes reviewing everything that was in front of them. Auntie was frowning.

"Can I get a tactical threat assessment for this?" The N7 asked, her eyes never moving from the displays. Reviewing, studying, contemplating. Sam merely nodded and entered in a few more keystrokes on the Haptic keyboard, rating all the information and compiling it together into a realistic threat assessment meant to define what the shields and armor could take. The numbers were disheartening. Sara studied the diagram, looking for any potential weakness, anything that could give them some sort of plan to overcome what appeared to be the most lethal warrior in the galaxy. The protection of the armor and shields, the amount of damage Saren could deal, the amount of energy created in his enhanced power pack, the different electronic attacks and defenses he possessed… hoping to wear down his armor's batteries wasn't an option, even if she couldn't deliver a strike with his weapons or Biotics that amounted to anti-personnel weaponry. "Jesus, he's built for war."

"His equipment was updated on June Third, three days before Eden Prime." Ryder told Auntie, making Sam look at her sharply. "That meant he came to the Cit and knuckled up with everything conceivable prior to the Assault on Eden Prime." Sara spied a heavily-modified Cipritine Armory's M-6 Carnifax Magnum Pistol, its heatsink, barrel, shaver, and VI suite improved well beyond what one could find on any market, legal or otherwise. She noted that it could fire rounds made illegal under the Citadel Convention, such as Tungsten rounds. "That was what he used to kill the Wrath of Glory." Collins' face was a mask of rage, seeing what Sara had pointed out. "It was _meant_ to kill a SPECTRE." She could see the kinetic force that the Carnifax could deliver would easily break through both shields and armor in a single shot thanks to the tungsten-jacketed rounds meant for penetration of kinetic defenses and armor, re-calibrated raycast technology to overclock recoil auto-dampeners to deliver more force, and scram rails to strengthen the pistol's mass effect field generator with a kinetic pulsar to drastically increase the velocity of each round. "He prepared, and planned for the eventuality that a Council Agent would come for him."

Sara winced at the sight of the shotgun that Saren had upgraded as well, a Lieberschaft Technologies' 2180 M-22 Eviscerator, a _very_ illegal weapon made by a now-defunct Human weapons company thanks to the Council. Ryder guess that raid netted a few prizes. The sight of Close Assault Talon rounds, a higher grade of round normally used by the Blackwatch, using Eezo-powered jackets and on-board VI simulations to ensure round penetration at any range, superconductive kinetic stabilizers to reduce kickback, Elkoss Combines' top-of-the-line platinum heatsinks for rapid cooldown by employing frictionless materials and an Eezo core to reduce build-up and employ rapid dethermalization, and synchronized pulsars to time gate release for the mass effect tunnel the shaved wedges the Eviscerator used to exponentially increase its flight speed spoke of high-impact damage and almost certain-lethality. And then Saren went and made it a fucking auto-shotgun with a large drum heatsink. Between the Carnifax and the Eviscerator, Saren could engage and kill anything at short-to-medium ranges quite effectively. Anything long range, and he had either his Biotics or that… well, she was just going to call it the BFG 9000.

Jannie had called it; Saren had built his armor to survive what a SPECTRE could throw at him… and kill the offending SPECTRE quickly.

"We're going to need to go to the drawing board for this one." Shepard sighed as she looked to Sara, the N7 frowning. "He's literally carrying the most-enhanced armor and weapons out of everyone. I didn't even think you could make some of this stuff due to impossibility. Any way we can get a copy of this for further review?" The Marshal went to do just that, but the terminal prevented her, indicating that the Level Two Clearance for a Clandestine Agent wasn't enough. Jannie snorted and put her hand on instead, downloading the information onto a secured datapad that popped out of the station. "Hey, can we bring up Council Agent Tibevius Victonius? Any intelligence, armor, weapons, the works?"

"You're asked a cop to look up somebody." The Marshal replied as she went back to the terminal, bringing up the search engine once more and inputting the name _Tibevius Bellintoris Victonius_. One again the terminal asked for authorization, and Collins placed her hand for a DNA check once more.

Sara winced as the Saren wireframe was replaced with Victonius' own… and saw much along the same line of thought.

"Shit. Two of them." Auntie winced, her tone not at all pleased. "I really don't know anything about Tibevius. I never heard the name until Avitus told me."

"I just know he's known as the Spiritcrusher." Sara admitted, having heart that once from her Skybulance pilot, Flight Officer Kaius Contenus. She looked at his armor, and saw that while advanced in a way that was beyond measure, it didn't seem to have the same principals as Saren's. It looked more like combat armor, with programs and suites geared more towards bursts of speed, cyclonic kinetic shielding, and armored plating that was a mix of density and lightness. Sara guessed that Tibevius Victonius was a soldier who had risen through the ranks to be noticed by Saren Arterius to be invited to try for the Office of Special Tactics. Much in the same way that the Wrath of Glory and the Bladed Shadow had. Saren hadn't picked equals, or persons who were as powerful yet unusual as he. No, he had went and gotten himself thugs. She even said as much.

"I concur." Sam Collins said after a moment, her voice subdued. "I know a little of Avitus Rix and Tibevius Victonius from Nihlus. They were all from the Blackwatch, though from different units. I know Tibevius is a 314 Vet, and I think he was a saboteur. I remember Nihlus mentioning him demolishing a bridge, a dam, and a few buildings with explosives. So likely he's Blackwatch ExOrD." Sara could see that the minifacturing suite on the SPECTRE MasterGear HMOT OmniTool that Tibevius possessed could in fact make several degrees of high-explosives, as well as having a polymorphic-VI hacking system for electronic systems and programs. His weapons were indeed a great deal better than most, but nowhere near as impressive as Saren's. "Without being able to look it up, I'd say that Victonius is in league with Saren. But I would have said the same thing as Avitus as well, and I just talked to him a few hours ago. Rix is as confused concerning these events as I am. I know that Nihlus and Saren had their differences and a bit of a falling out… a couple of years back," Sara and Jane shared a glance, knowing that the reason was likely standing right in front of them, "but I never would have guessed that Saren would have killed Nihlus Kryik. Saren… saw him as a son, like Nihlus saw him as a father. Not a father figure, a _father_. If you hadn't returned from Eden Prime with the news and Nihlus' body, I don't think anyone would have believed you. Even me. E-excuse me." The Marshal walked away for a moment, and neither Sara or Jane were under any other impression other than grief that made the Marshal of Therum turn away. Shepard used the opportunity to download Tibevius Victonius' information as well, collecting another SPECTRE-secured datapad.

"Well, we got some work ahead of us." Ryder sighed, looking at the two secured datapads. "Thank the Maker I got everyone to plus up the SciTech Department with goodies. We're going to need them."

"Yeah. We are." The stern face of the Captain had Sara place a hand on Jannie's arm.

"I know that look, Auntie. We _will_ find a way to stop him." Sara saw the redhead nod slowly. "Hell, we're here in the Office of Special Tactics. Now that we've got an idea on what we're going to be facing, we can work our way towards how to beat it."

"Toys." Auntie smiled, obviously going to enjoy the plethora of tech candy that the Office of Special Tactics had to offer.

" _Tank_." Sara's grin was even larger. In her mind, Sara was a defender, a guardian of lives. She already had ideas on what to configure her armor to being.

* * *

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Plus 1 accommodation, Human female type. Big name. Get camera ready!

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams looked at the chirp that Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder had given her, a little mystified by the newest acquisition that didn't come with any more details other than species and gender. Thankfully, there was still bunk space available in both the Enlisted Quarters and the CPO Quarters on the SSV _Normandy_ , so that wouldn't be an issue, depending on who it would be. She queued up 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko, keeping him in the loop in case the Angel hadn't already, letting him know to expect another addition.

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

Did we just pick up yet another life form?

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

My money is on an N7-type.

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

Bravest Generation member. Fifty Creds.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

You're on. Want to fleece some others of some hard earned Creds?

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

That's what Skyllian Five night is for.

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

What am I saying? You nab the Chiefs, I clean out the Officers.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Now we're talking. Remind me to thank the Angel for the fleecing opportunities.

It was a few hours before another chirp from Sara had come letting Ash know that she, the Skipper, and whoever the new girl was were twenty minutes from arriving on the _Normandy_. The betting pool had grown considerably between the Non-Coms and the Officers, Ash sticking to the NCO's while Alenko got it going for the Officers. The pool for the Non-Coms was already over a kiloCred riding on several different identities, Ash at least being nice and letting them know that it was a Human woman. She wasn't even sure if Kaidan had done the same for the Officers, though neither one of them knew who the person was.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Sorry it's taking so long. Srsly stopped for a tattoo.

That had Ash scoff for a moment.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Not what u think. It's personal. Lost her husband on Eden Prime.

Oh, damn. Ash could get behind that. She briefly wondered if it was anyone she knew from the 2-12, knowing that several of the men in her unit were married. But… none of them were what she would considered 'big names'. Hell, she wasn't sure any of them were in the service. Well, the Angel hadn't said her husband was a service member, that was just an assumption on her part. And she hadn't said that the woman was a shooter. Perhaps an ONI Agent or someone who could help out in another method. The Skipper wasn't about to let any help offered be turned away if she thought they could do something to stop the Geth and Saren.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Go easy on her? This will be… a shock.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Hell, I was shocked. And I'm from the Cit.

That… was an odd thing to chirp.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Start spilling, kid. You dangle any more bait like this and I'll pout.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Already got my bet locked in, so it's not like I'll win or lose with more info.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Of course there's betting!

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Let's just say someone went and got their warpaint on.

 **SaraRyder**

AngelIllyeria

Try not to laugh, comment, or… cringe. We'll B there N a minute.

Well, that didn't help at all. Ash was trying to figure out what _tattoo_ and _warpaint_ had in common, and came up blank. The Angel and the Lion had been gone for hours to (of all places) the Office of Special Tactics. The Captain was going to get as much intel, armor, and weaponry as she could drag back, and had fully expected for the whole thing to take several hours, and perhaps even a day or two. So where had they dredged up a Human woman who had lost her husband on Eden Prime? On their way there or back? Perhaps someone that Captain Shepard or Chief Ryder already knew? No, that wasn't likely. Williams guessed that there wouldn't have been a bet if it wasn't someone most everyone might have known. _Big name_ implied more than a few people of course, but most everyone associated with the Lion or the Angel were fairly well known thanks to their popularity. The only two big names known with them were Admiral David Anderson and Captain Alec Ryder; their respective fathers. Admiral Anderson was now the Human SPECTRE Office Commanding Officer, and Alec Clancy Ryder was somewhere in or around Earth, doing something that even his oldest child wasn't too aware about. The rest of the members of the Bravest Generation had either retired, or were in high-level leadership positions that would exclude them from just jumping into a Frigate and tearing ass across space.

That left other big names.

There was Lieutenant Commander Donald McGregor, the so-called 'Dragonslayer of Akuze'. An N7 now, but back in 2180, he was a Ground Team Commander of Master-at-Arms and Marines responding to a distress beacon on the planet of Akuze, where a starter colony had just broken ground. A thirty-five man team landed where the colony was planned to be built only to find the pre-fabs and vehicles gutted and destroyed, without a living soul to be seen. The team searched for two hours for any evidence, be it assault or slavers, when they discovered what was widely considered the most dangerous game in the galaxy as the perpetrator; thresher maws. A titanic worm had attacked the Master-at-Arms and Marines as it had the colony, and for two hours, the Systems Alliance personnel tried fighting back when their shuttle was damaged during the off-set, forced to fight without any kind of retreat. It was Lieutenant McGregor who landed a lucky shot with a Elanus Risk Control Services ML-77 Missile Launcher, getting a warhead inside the creatures' mouth and blowing off its head. The act made him the only Human Being to have successfully bring down a Thresher, saving the last eight members of his platoon. Of course, it couldn't be LtCmd McGregor considering he was a man.

There was Yancy Alvarez. An expeditionary scout with the Systems Alliance Exploratory Team, the Earth-born woman had gotten caught up in a small-scale operation involving Turian Separatists and the Hierarchy in 2178 when her vessel had been pulled in by Separatists for hijacking, ransom, and murder. Seven of her team members died tortured to death before it became Alvarez's turn. Unfortunately for the Separatists, Alvarez was something of a jack-of-all-trades, having foiled the lock on her cell and made a shank out of a piece of scrap metal. After stabbing two captives to death, she released the rest of the prisoners (Human and Turian) and ended up overthrowing the prison in which they were held on in Taetrus. The act helped win the Hierarchy some territory and weakened the Separatist Movement, and got herself the nickname 'Queen of the Scouts' after it had been confirmed that most of the Separatists' deaths were due to her sneaking skills and ability with a homemade prison shank. Yancy Alvarez might be a possibility, as she was married. But she wasn't really war material, trained more at finding viable locations for colonization and resource exploitation. She might be a good fighter, but not really what Williams would consider 'the goods'.

Commander Daniel Madison wasn't a possibility due to the fact that he was a man, but the Pirate-Killer would have certainly qualified. During the Blitz, Commander Madison had chased no less than twenty vessels for capture and plundered seven bases with a wolf pack of five Frigates. Ash briefly wondered where he was at with the defensive posture the Systems Alliance had taken with the Assault on Eden Prime and Therum. 1st Lieutenant John Forsythe was out of that running as well, a man who had stopped a colonial revolt on Joughin, Benning by employing less-than-lethal tactics to keep civilian deaths and collateral damage to a minimum. There was Lieutenant Colonial Mikael Dravenovich, known as the 'Destroyer'; a Marine Officer who had taken down several pirate, smuggler, and slaver bases during and after the Blitz. All big names, but not women.

That left one other.

 _Naw, couldn't be. Could it?_

If there was an equal to the Lion, then it would be the Butcher.

Ashley had met Marshal Samantha Collins once, back before Torfan, which Earth Alliance Space generally just called her the Marshal of Therum even if she wasn't the Frontier Marshal of that particular post anymore. There were cops, there were hard-ass cops, and then there was Sam Collins. The woman was famous for a duel involving her own corrupt co-workers as well as thugs with the Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters, arresting her own dirty boss as well as the biggest crime lord on Therum, President Nico Dekker. Marse Collins had single-handedly defeated something like _two dozen men_ while arresting the dirtiest cop and the biggest piece of shit on a planet all by her lonesome. And then Torfan happened, propelling an already vaulted reputation towards near-legendary status. Federal Marshal Sam Collins had the rep and the skills, that was for sure. Damn it, Ash hadn't picked her for the bet. She hadn't known if Collins was married or not, but if the Butcher had lost her husband on Eden Prime? Then yeah, Williams would totally agree with the Skipper on this one; having the Butcher of Torfan along for the ride would certainly be quite appropriate.

The Sergeant moved to the deployment ramp in the Cargo Bay to where she could see the EAS Common Dock, where a CPTA X3M Contragravity AirCar exited by the CPTA lot a few hundred meters away where Systems Alliance members and civilians could head towards different destinations on the Cit. Even at that distance, Ash could make out a redhead getting out of the vehicle, and knew that she was about to get her answer as two more stepped out, one shorter than the other. Yep, that would be the Skipper and Sara. What she saw that had her shaking her head was the sight of a black cowboy hat on the third person.

No doubt, the Marshal of Therum had gotten herself a ticket on the _Normandy_.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Kai. Get your ass down here. Someone's about to get richer.

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

On my way. See who it is?

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Oh yeah.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Seriously… it's the fucking BUTCHER.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

We got Sam Collins!

 **KaidanAlenko**

VancouverRox2151

Shit. XO Vanderloo won.

 **AshleyWilliams**

LoneWolfEdenPrime

Ugh! Well good for him…

Ashley saw the three women approaching, each of them carrying two traveling cases, rather big and bulky. One looked in the style of an armor case to carry without being able to wear it or being obvious about it, and the other looked to be a weapons' case. Each of them had a set. Williams almost got wide-eyed at the thought that the Lion had obviously gotten herself _SPECTRE_ Armor. Now that they were closer, Ash could see them better, seeing Captain Shepard in the lead, with Petty Officer Ryder right next to her. The Marshal was just behind them, wearing boots, blue jeans, a white blouse, a black blazer, and a no-bullshit Stetson on her head.

Wai… what was wrong with her face?

The three women started walking onto the deployment ramp when Ashely saw what caught her attention. Now she knew what Sara meant by _tattoo_ and _warpaint_.

Decorating Sam Collins' face was the colonial markings of the Turian Tridend Colony in bone white across her _euros_ -colored flesh.

Williams' jaw dropped at the sight, but she quickly snapped it shut at the thought of what Ryder had told her. Sam Collins had lost a husband on Eden Prime… a _Turian_ husband! And there had been only one Turian death in all of the colony during the Assault. Sam Collins had been married to a Turian SPECTRE, Nihlus Kryik, specifically. Ash had a good Goddamn guess why the Butcher had done it. Not that she was a fan of Human-Alien relationships, but she approved. The Butcher wanted it to be the last thing Saren ever wanted to see, the markings of a man that had been his protege, his widow coming back to haunt the spike that betrayed and murdered him. Yeah, Ash got it. It certainly made the Marshal look… vengeful.

"Ma'am." Williams saluted the Captain as Shepard approached, the redhead giving her a nod and a smile. "Marshal, let me be the first to welcome you to the _Normandy_. We got a billet and a locker for you already established. If you could come with me?" The Marshal of Therum nodded once, the edges of her skin still raw from the recent tattoo. Nihlus had one of the more complicated colonial markings in the Hierarchy, but that obviously hadn't stopped Collins. Everyone had their own way to deal with their grief. A bullet to the fringe of Saren Arterius seemed like a good healthy route. Williams escorted the Marshal aboard, directing her to her personal locker first in the Cargo Bay, blue eyes studying everything around them as Collins stored her two cases into the personal locker, coding her thumbprint as her access when brought up by the ships' management suite. "Do… you not have any personal effects? Clothes or whatnot?"

"Those I'll be getting later tonight." The Marshal's tone suggested that there would be no further questions. Williams got it; it had nothing to do with her. "If you could lead me to my bunk, I can get started sooner and not waste your time."

"Not wasting it, Marse. But will do." Ash knew she still had her moments of anger, guilt, frustration, and depression over Eden Prime. Whatever the Marshal was feeling, she was certainly entitled to it. The Colonial Soldier gave the Marshal of Therum a brief tour, showing her where the Galleys were, the Med Bay, the Ladies' Room, the lavatory, and finally the Female CeePoo Quarters where Marse Collins' cot was located. "That's you, top bunk. All the fine accommodations the SA Navy can afford; three crappy hots and a small cot." That had Collins sniff, but there was a small hint of amusement upon her lips.

"Colonial Army, I assume?" Williams was wearing the standard Systems Alliance Navy Battle Duty Uniform instead of her lighter-blue Colonial Army BDU's or the even darker blue Marine Corps ones.. She had lost most of her uniforms and personal possessions during the Assault on Eden Prime, and being officially a part of the _Normandy_ crew meant wearing Navy colors. It wasn't like anyone was calling her 'Chief' or anything.

"Eden Prime."

"I've… met you before." The Marshal said, realization coming to her as she looked at the 'Williams' nametag and then back to Ash. "Yeah, some bar fight a couple years back? Didn't you clobber seven guys at once?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny these allegations, Marse." The Sergeant replied with a twisted smile. "In those guys' defense, it was really three of them, then another two jumped in when I knocked the last one out, and then another two came on after that. Weren't you arresting some smuggler or some such thing? I was too busy dodging punches and beer bottles to catch most of the shouting."

"Organ trafficker." The Butcher replied, her blue eyes hard. Ash winced at the mention of his crime. "He had a few more tallies on his rap sheet, but that was the top of the list."

"Whatever happened to the _capo_?"

"Escape attempt." The Colonial Soldier knew exactly what that meant… and the consequence.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy, Marse." Ash smiled, folding her arms across her chest. "If you need anything, I bunk there." The Soldier pointed out her bunk across the Quarters. "Dinner is from 1800 to 2000 hundred hours in the CeePoo Galley, and it's good for a free meal, but I wouldn't call it 'good'."

"Can't have Army cooking! You'll set fire to the ship trying to barbecue or burn the water!" Called out Petty Officer (First Class) Amina Waaberi, one of the ships' maintenance crew.

"Hey! Burnt water would be better than that slop you guys normally ate before the Skipper went and got us _real_ food."

"Yeah, ain't that the truth?" Petty Officer (Third Class) Caroline Gernado replied from her bottom bunk. "If I had to eat one more Zucchini Fettuccine Alfredo from a box, the Mess Chief was going to get it as a suppository refund."

"I'm willing to bet it's better than what I was eating on Therum back when I was a Deputy. Mostly red dirt and the broken dreams of miners." Collins informed them, getting Ash to wince.

* * *

Author's Note: The House of Boom - The original existed in The Hale/Meer Chronicles: The Infiltrator Effect, the undone sequel to The Hale/Meer Chronicles: The Vanguard Effect… which I lost due to laptop suicide. I made an armory that was the wet dream of any shooter, hosting practically any and every conceivable firearm and armor ever created. Captured weapons, prototypes, illegal guns, BlackTech… gun candy. One joke was in fact the _Iron Man_ suit that actually pretty much ended up being similar to what Andromeda had; an armored suit with jump jets. Another joke was the Beryllium Fission Generator 9000 Heavy Cannon. For those who are fans of a certain 'id' game… look at the acronym and take a wild guess what someone was going to use.

Blue Light Of Acceptance? Green Light means go or good. On the Cit, it's blue.

The Ballistic Bodysuit is a good deal like what Tony Stark has in _Avengers: Infinity War_. While it won't be self-replicating, it can self-repair, thus the NanoGel; my newest invention. I also mixed with the idea of what Old Snake had in _Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns Of The Patriots_ , minus the OptiCamo.

Mylar? While we associate with birthday balloons, this DuPont invention is incredibly strong, and features the properties I've listed. The only thing it lacks is endothermic properties (insulation of/from heat).

Organic Technology - simple term to include cloning, genetic modifications (genemods), organic modifications and augmentations. For all you Cyberpunk fans.

The Ancient Ship - I've almost thought about doing something with the Leviathan of Dis. One could make an interesting side mission with that. Especially with Humanity's First SPECTRE and everyone's favorite thug race. I think it was discovered in 2160 in the Dis System.

Beryllium Fusion Generator 9000 Heavy Cannon? It's a big fucking gun. If I remember my _Star Trek_ , the warp core of the NCC-1701 is powered by a Beryllium Fusion Reactor. I'm not even sure what Beryllium is save for a Rare Earth Metal, Non-Radioactive, and is used for manufacturing dense alloys. I guess that it's high enough on the periodic table that 'fissing' it would release a lot of energy, but not have the problems that fissing Uranium and Plutonium would (you know, that glowing green crap we smart people like to call 'nuclear waste'?) Since ME2 employed Heavy Weapons, I've wondered about having one or two about, such as the M-920 Cain, or perhaps the Mulcher from District 9/Where The Law Stands Tall. The BFG 9000 is _always_ an option. _ALWAYS_.

AlumniSteel- Actually a real component that is 13% lighter than steel but as dense as a steel-titanium alloy known as Tennalum 7068 T6. It is better than aircraft aluminum.

I brought back some ideas from _The Hale/Meer Chronicles_ , such as calling the military history pertaining to Akuze 'the Dragonslayer'. It sounds so much better than 'Sole Survivor Of A Place That We Can't Locate'. Threshers are, after all, _space dragons_. I had intended to make the Office of Special Tactics where they actually did have access to some of the best equipment because they were the only one's able to craft them, thus the Prothean Era NanoLoom. Canon made it sound like SPECTRE equipment was specialized components from several companies pieced together (which works) but I went one step higher; unique customization and possession.

The modifications of Saren will lead into my idea of what the antagonist of _Mass Effect_ , should have been. Saren Arterius was a Turian Biotic, youngest Turian inductee, twenty plus years experience… he's like Chuck Norris, Richard Marcinko, or Otto Scorzeny (possibly the greatest Special Forces Operative to have ever lived). Told you I upgraded the bad guys with the good. As for the Carnifex and the Eviscerator? The upgrades can be found as Randall Enzo's upgrades for his weapons in _Mass Effect: Infiltrator._

I've seen a few art depictions of Turian Colonial Markings and what they represent. I picked one for Nihlus', considering there was no real reference to any of them save… somehow he and Councilor Sparatus have the same markings and color. Strange, considering that Kryik was born in a mine outside of the Hierarchy. I just assume his father was from somewhere in the same vicinity as Sparatus.

Originally, Sam Collins and Nihlus Kryik were to be LI's in the _Peacemaker Series_ , with Sam adopting Kryik's colonial markings by the time Mass Effect started. This was suppose to be a point of contention between the SA and Collins, who would be something of a SPECTRE without government support due to her 'questionable' loyalties. Obviously, this didn't happen as I ended up scrapping the idea. You'll learn a little later how Sam and Nihlus meet in this 'verse.

Amina Waaberi and Caroline Gernado are two more names that are dog tags and found on the wall. Daniel Madison, John Forsythe, and Mikael Dravenovich can be found in Chapter 2; Hale: Office of Naval Personnel in _The Hale/Meer Chronicles: The Vanguard Effect_. Donald McGregor and Yancy Alvarez were made up on the spot.


	19. Center Of The Known Universe, IV

_A fistful of thermal clips._

 **STARS Office, Human Embassy, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 2, 2183**

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard entered into the newly-minted Special Tactics And Reconnaissance Section (STARS) Office of the Human Embassy, seeing the fresh placard with the name of the office, as well as its lead liaison. Seeing the name 'Rear Admiral (lower half) David Anderson' engraved in brass had Jannie's heart flutter a little, finally seeing Poppa Bear where he truly deserved to be. He had spent years denying promotions so he could continue being an N7, working with the Teams, the last active Night Stalker in Special Operations. Not that she wanted Poppa Bear behind a desk, but years ago he had been a SPECTRE Candidate, had been given a chance to become something even more. Having him be the Commanding Officer of Human SPECTREs was only right, a man who had been the very pinnacle of Human courage and tactics. There was no one else she'd rather have. She walked through the door to find a small office with six desks, every one of them occupied with uniformed Naval personnel. There were two female Yeomen for clerical duties, and four obvious Office of Naval Intelligence Agents who worked the other desks. When Jannie entered, every single one of them looked up and saw her, and the redhead noted their eyes going wider at the sight of Humanity's First SPECTRE entering into the office.

"The Admiral is expecting you, Captain Shepard." One of the Yeoman spoke up, a Petty Officer (Second Class) Tricia Keller standing up from her desk. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No thank you, Chief." The redhead replied as she walked passed the desks, finding there to be several small offices flanking the main room. The one set dead center along the back wall was marked with Poppa Bear's name. Jannie snorted to see that _hers_ was right next to his own. Well, Shepard guess she would get an office, wouldn't she? Once the hunt for Saren was complete, she would have to work out of somewhere. She couldn't expect to have the _Normandy_ forever, and that thought brought a pang to her heart. Well, no need to get ahead of herself just yet. She had a war to fight, a synthetic race to obliterate, and a Turian's ass to kick. Jannie walked to the main office door and knocked on it three times, hearing a brass voice responding to enter as her smile grew wide as she opened the old-fashioned door, swinging it open to walk into the office of Admiral David Anderson.

"Good morning, sweetheart." The dark-skinned man stood from his desk, moving around it to give her a fatherly embrace that Shepard was all too glad to receive. They pulled away and Jannie took the available seat in front of the desk, seeing a rather drab-looking office compared to the Ready Room that Poppa Bear had on the SSV _Normandy_ , decorated with Naval artifacts and traditions spanning throughout Earth's history. The only real decorations in the office were photos and still along the wall, framed and placed chronologically. The redhead smiled at the sight of pics of her and Poppa Bear, starting when she was a little girl and going through dozens until the last one, being after her SPECTRE induction ceremony, where she was arm-and-arm with Poppa Bear. Jannie saw pictures of her life on displayed, and she knew that she was lucky to have David as her father.

"Had a real nice visit to the Office of Special Tactics. Met Marshal Collins." Shepard informed Admiral Anderson, who merely nodded. "Is it just me or do you feel like we were kept in the dark a great deal?"

"Honey, I still think we are." David sighed as she sat behind his desk, folding his hands in front of him. "I had just learned of Marshal Samantha Collins myself from her message the day before. I have a feeling she was likely ordered not to identify herself to me or you, considering what you informed me of during your meeting with Agent Avitus Rix. I've gotten reams of information pertaining to SPECTRE duties, responsibilities, logistics, and communications protocols… but I feel like I haven't received one thing that actually has to deal with being a SPECTRE."

"Setting us up for failure?" Jannie asked, her voice subdued. It wouldn't be the first time the writing on the wall indicated that concerning the Cit or the Council.

"I don't know, but it certainly looks that way, doesn't it?" Anderson sighed again. "I was a little more privy to information than you were due to my Candidacy Trial, but not much more. I knew of undercover operatives, what are known as Level Two SPECTREs, but I wasn't aware that we had any. Which was the point, obviously. But why not inform us of the fact after you were inducted into the SPECTREs? Me? I get. I'm going to be an administrator and likely the others are only in the know to a certain extent. But I wonder about the level of information and intelligence that are brought in to the other SPECTRE Offices."

"Do the others have personal offices? Like a Turian SPECTRE Office and whatnot?" The redhead asked.

"I know for a fact that the Asari do, and actually I have been in contact with their _majordomo_ , one Matriarch Lysella D'tala. She's only _mildly_ condescending and stuck-up for an Asari Matriarch, so that means she's a saint." That had Jannie snort out loud. Yeah, most Matriarchs were stuffy prudes. "She did cue me in to a few ideas and practices, but there hasn't been a new species inducted into the Office of Special Tactics in over two centuries. Everyone already has the process up and running, and we're kickstarting an organization at the foot of a war. No small task, there."

"Sara went and got smart and we got to look up what Saren is armed and armored with." She shook her head slowly. "The fucker came to the Cit before he went to Eden Prime, using full access and all the resources available to make himself as undefeatable as possible. Even for SPECTREs." That had the dark-skinned man frown, obviously recollecting his own Candidacy Trial with the Turian. "I went and got SPECTRE-issued armor and weapons, but the augmentations, modifications, and materials aren't nearly as sophisticated as his. He was an elite Agent, so he got the elite goods before attacking Eden Prime. He banked on the possibility of him being hunted by a SPECTRE, likely one who could possibly meet him on equal terms before and got authorization to craft some of the most advanced armor and weapons ever crafted by the SPECTRE Home Office. The differences between him and me… are alarming."

"That bad?"

"Like a common Marine Private against a Hierarchy _Centurion_ during the First Contact War bad." Jannie knew the stories and tales from both Uncle Alec and Poppa Bear, just how bad Humanity was out-tech'ed during the FCW. "I doubt that Saren would expect a _new_ SPECTRE to be the one to go after him, but I will give the fucker credit and say that he didn't underestimate the possible opposition. He was probably expecting an Asari veteran SPECTRE, someone that could meet him on equal terms. Both Sara and Sam have their own gear and equipment from the Office of Special Tactics, and I noted that theirs is a little… less than mine. Fewer available allocation spots, a little less power available, not as many programs. Sam is a Clandestine SPECTRE with a couple years under her belt, and Sara is my Second, and neither were allowed to get armor as advanced as mine. And mine is nowhere near as augmented as Arterius. The three of us together?" The redhead held out a hand and did a see-saw motion. "I don't know, Poppa Bear. I'm really glad that Ryder got her SciTech Department together to fleece as many exotic materials and goods for crafting against the Geth. We're going to need every gram of brains and tech on our side against the Geth alone, much less Saren. Her getting that intel at least gives us a notion of what to expect and how to deal with it."

"My recommendation?" Anderson began, looking at her with all seriousness. "Something extreme. A launchable anti-matter warhead, a kinetic strike, or perhaps engage him from a stealth strike in space and blast his vessel, though I expect he might be in a SPECTRE vessel with better-than-great capabilities for its Class." Jannie frowned at that, having thought of something along those lines, but thinking more of a _Hierarchy_ vessel than a _SPECTRE_ vessel. Did he even have a personal craft? Or was he like herself, flying a vessel populated by a Turian crew? "When we fought the Turians to a standstill on Shanxi, forcing them to fight in block-by-block warfare in New Beijing and Neo Inchon, Turian tactics were lacking in seven-hundred and twenty degree battle. They were use to threats up-front with flanking coverage, and logistical support from the rear. We grinded that down, forced them to bunker down instead of having fluidity of movement, and boobytraped everything while launching mortars and improvised munitions at them. Turians aren't very adaptable to unusual scenarios or extreme situations. But getting Saren into a trap like that will be difficult; he is extremely intelligent and resourceful." Poppa Bear explained, using his previous knowledge and experience for advice. "It is more likely that he will lure _you_ into his own trap, one you will likely not be able to spring in advance to your advantage. If the battle seems too easy…"

"…then watch your step." The N7 replied to the older N7, nodding her head knowingly. "Won't lie. This scares me, and you know I don't scare easily."

"Then let it make you smarter." The Admiral advised as he pulled out a small bottle and two glasses from his desk. Jannie smirked at the sight of Scotch in the morning. He poured two small fingers' worth into the glasses and gave one to her. "You've gone and improved everyone's arms and armor for the upcoming battle. You went and trained your men in a hellacious set of modules that the Villa has established as training to prepare upcoming N candidates. You went and used your available resources to improve your chances and abilities. You went and got better intel for better planning. Now do what you do best, sweetheart, and find a way to exploit any conceivable weakness that Arterius has to your advantage and take that son of a bitch down. His most obvious weakness? _Arrogance_."

"He does think Humanity crude and barbaric." Shepard nodded, knowing that much. "I've already pulled up as much as I could on Saren, his profile, his exploits, and anything else to get a sense of the warrior that he is, as well as personality. Perhaps I'll have Detective Vakarian look it over, get a cops' eye view. It'd be silly not to use a Special Crimes Detective to my full advantage."

"Good. You're learning." David smiled at her. "Before, you would have shied away from such things. I know I have in the past, and I've wondered if things would have been different on the few occasions such opportunities came up. You've collected quite an impressive team with a variety of specialties and skills. Use them, let them prove themselves. They can only make you stronger, and perhaps a different view of things will help reduce our own racial misconceptions and underestimations. Speaking of which…" the Admiral took a small sip of Scotch while he rummaged through a small stack of datapads on his desk. "I got an interesting bit of intel from the Lady of the Chamber, Lady Eloa'Varis of the Quarian Nation. I remember that she and Sara were friends from their Academy days together, and the Pathfinders' Daughter went to the AntiQuarian for help. Seems she got Lady Varis on board with the Geth issue." A datapad came out of the stack as David handed it to her. "This is intel from the Migrant Fleets' Intrinsic Data Services, their version of the Office of Naval Intelligence. This is everything that the Quarians have ever discovered in the past decade; movements, attacks, locations, upgrades, sightings… everything. I've got my ONI Agents working through it now, but you might as well have your own specialists start combing through as well. I suspect the Geth have forward operating bases and posts, probably even small stations for refueling, resupply, and intelligence-gathering. If we want to curtail Saren's plans, we need to start with his forces. Disrupting the Geth will limit his capabilities, forcing him either out into the open, or having to compromise his plans."

"That will certainly be a boon." Jannie took the datapad, seeing the many substrata files that had been delivered. "Remind me to get the Lady of the Chamber something nice. Like a Geth head mounted for her mantle." That had the Black Fox chuckling. "I'm just still so appalled that… this is all on us."

"Humanity, or the very few under your and my command?" Anderson asked, his voice hard. Shepard watched as Poppa Bear stood from his desk, turning to look out the offices' lone window that overlooked the Upper Ring of the Presidium, where Relay Park was. "For years, hard-liners and racists have been yammering on how we don't need _their_ help, how we can do it alone. Now that the Council has taken us up on that offer, those same voices are crying for intervention, bitching on how we've been abandoned." Jannie went and stood by David's side, placing a gentle hand on his broad shoulder. "Lives are on the line, our very existence is threatened, and we're being killed with _backroom politics_ ," there was no mistaking the scorn in his voice there, "on both sides. You… are our torch for the time being, sweetheart. And it's a _heavy_ torch."

"Thankfully, I've got more than a few hands to help me hold it." Jannie had gotten lucky and gotten herself a dedicated crew and an impressive set of volunteers. If she had an average group, she'd would be even more worried of their chances. "You should see little Sara. She's really coming into her own, Poppa Bear."

"She's not the only one." He turned to look at her, pride showing in his smile. "I'm glad the two of you are being able to work together, to be there for one another. In times like these, it's good to have friends and family at your side. Believe me, I know that all too well. Your father would have been proud to see where you are now." There was a bittersweet tone as there always was, the man who had taken his best friends' daughter and raised her as his own. His opened his arms and took her in, as he had all those years ago, before she could even remember. He had always been there for her, her Poppa Bear. From little girl to SPECTRE, he had always been there for her.

"I know I am."

* * *

Commander Mark Vanderloo looked over the information that Captain Jane Shepard had given him, its source surprising him. He only distantly knew of the Lady of the Chambers, but the amount of intel she had given was certainly substantial. Geth movements for the past ten years was certainly not inconsiderable, considering that the source was the Migrant Fleet. Well, the source was as impeccable as one could expect, considering how much the Quarians hated the Geth. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination why the Quarians would help Humanity now, considering the old adage of _an enemy of my enemy_ , so he expected the intel to be solid without further verification. Whatever the Systems Alliance and the SSV _Normandy_ did to the Geth would benefit the Quarians. Perhaps a favor could be returned later on. Mark new how the political game was played, after all.

"We'll start with most recent and most visited, of course." The Commander told the Captain as he sat in her Ready Room, Shepard sitting behind her desk, reviewing something else on a datapad. "We'll be limited on movement with a vast majority of the Fleets on defensive posture. The normal pickets and patrols won't be able to help us when they're sitting on colonies. Trying to track down every lead throughout ten systems will take time we may not necessarily have. If we get a system with more recent activity and spikes of it, I think that will be the first order of business, but a lead isn't concrete evidence." Jane was still looking at her datapad, and Mark saw that whatever she was looking at had her engrossed. "You okay, Jane?"

"I… yes." Vanderloo saw her looking up from whatever she was studying, her concentration broken. "Sorry, reviewing some of this SPECTRE info. I just realized… that's what Saren has been able to do all this time, the things he's been able to get away with for twenty years. Before? I thought… perhaps I'd be a match for him. Now I'm looking at what he has, what he's been capable of." He watched the redhead shake her head. "He's at a level beyond what I've ever been capable of. Even as an N, I had rules and protocol to follow, no matter how relaxed or authorized from what normal Systems Alliance Military is capable of. With him? It's the same difference with twenty-five years worth of experience hunting some of the worst the galaxy has to offer. We're not even in the same league, and I was blind and naive to think so in the first place."

"We've really only gone against Batarian State Militia, slavers, pirates, and their ilk in the past." Mark pondered, thinking over what Shepard was implying. "At the worst, we might have faced off a team of Special Intervention Unit Members in the guise of some of those villains, carrying deniable weaponry and armor that didn't break CitLaw because no one wants a SPECTRE coming down on their heads. Now that you are a SPECTRE, you're seeing the filth we've never had to tackle before because we had them cleaning up the trash and leaving us the dregs."

"Yeah, it isn't a cheery thought." Jane set down the datapad on the desk and sighed. "I think back to Elysium, when I was facing over a hundred assailants funneled into a hallway, armed with a Mattock and seven teachers with Kesslers for defense. That was my toughest battle because I was so minimally prepared. Those men who joined at my side, who gave their lives for kids had nothing more than pistols and courage. If I had been armed then as I am now? Had the armor? Those men would still be alive, teaching the next generation of men and women." Vanderloo understood what the Captain was getting at. "I've been with the Teams for years, working with some of the best against what I thought was the worst the galaxy had to offer. I… was wrong. Hell, I think Sara faced worse with Detective Vakarian in that 'Red Harvest' thing she never talks about. As I understand it, _that_ was sent to the Office of Special Tactics to deal with. Elanos Haliat didn't make that chart despite what he did on Elysium, at least not that I'm aware of. Despite the thugs and his defenses on that base, he was really just a jumped-up terrorist thug working with the Separatists and the Hegemony to make money, nothing more. He wasn't hunted down by a SPECTRE because he wasn't worthy of them."

"That's… something to consider." Haliat had been deemed the worst criminal in Human history, responsible for a colonial invasion that involved hundreds of civilian deaths and dozens of captures. Yet Shepard had been remembered due to her heroic stand protecting Illyeria High School, saving thousands of teenagers as well as the faculty and staff. In some ways, she had merely been in the right place at the right time, and nearly paid for it with her life. "Is there any insight you've been able to glean considering what's… worthy of a SPECTRE?"

"Yes, and it will disgust you." Jane replied, her green eyes hard. "Despite supposedly answering to the Council and the Council alone, it seems that missions are… selectable by Agents and the species involved. If a SPECTRE had wanted to go after Haliat, he would have had his fringe on a platter long before I ever tracked him down. Because we didn't have the authorization or the personnel, we didn't have an option. If a Turian SPECTRE or an Asari SPECTRE thought it enough or wished to lend us a hand, then it happened. If they didn't…" The N7 left that hanging.

"I'll fully admit that I don't like the thought of SPECTREs running around Alliance Space doing God knows what, but they already are, aren't they?" Mark asked, seeing Humanity's First SPECTRE slowly nodding her head. "I know Sara is your Second, and you brought to light that Marshal Collins is in fact an authorized Level Two SPECTRE, but one official SPECTRE, an undercover SPECTRE, and a back-up aren't going to be enough. If there are SPECTREs who _can_ help us, then perhaps we should put a foot forward and see who we can help first to garner that kind of cooperation. We're already doing so with the Lady of the Chamber and the Quarian Nation, working in each others' self-interests. Perhaps with a SPECTRE, we can work on getting more allies, finding people who _can't_ get help due to politics or some other reason, and see where that can get us."

"That's not a bad idea." Shepard replied, mulling it over. "I'll forward the idea to Poppa Bear, have him keep an ear to the ground and see what we can flex out. It doesn't necessarily need to be me; we've got N's and Marshals who can specialize in high-profile captures and strikes. Get some credit and good publicity, maybe cash in some good will and intel in return."

"What we really need is the others to take the Geth threat seriously enough in the Chambers to get more involved." The Commander pointed out. "If we're _handling_ it, then no one else is going to offer. If we look like we're losing, you know that it will come back to bite us in the ass. But if we can show that it's more than just Humanity who is threatened, but we're incapable of protecting others, or perhaps we can show that we can but need some reinforcements?"

"Yeah, make a problem _everyone's_ problem. Mutual cooperation." The redhead snorted. "The sad part is that our best bet is the Hierarchy. But everyone's so use to their twenty-seven main fleets and thirty-plus action squadrons doing the fighting and bleeding for everyone. Asari won't lift a finger, and Salarians like to pretend they got eyes on everything to solve a problem before its a problem. Volus just pay off the bad guys or bribe the Turians to take care of any issue. Hanar have that fuck-all defensive net of theirs where all they have to do is pull in and button down the hatches. Elcor have the Asari to snuggle to. Quarians are too mobile despite being a fifty-thousand ship fleet that can take days to translate through Relays, and no one wants to piss off the Krogan. Who does that leave us with? The fucking squints? A few of the minor species that barely own their own system?"

"You know… that might be something to address." Mark thought it over. "There's… thirty-nine species on the Cit, right? Only eight major Embassies with representation in the Chambers, plus one half Chamberlain with the AntiQuarian. The rest… too weak and small to own more than a system or two, only possessing just enough Mass Effect technology to access a Relay."

"Client-states?" Jane asked, her brow furrowing.

"Maybe not that far, but certainly giving them a boon such as better spacecraft could leverage some numbers in our favor." Vanderloo replied. "If we could release just ten percent of our total fleets from protective duties over our colonies… that's ten percent of our fleets as an action force. And some of those minor species would probably _jump_ at the chance of something considered a partnership."

"Jeez, the United Federation of Planets?" That had the man snort at the _Star Trek_ reference. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea, though. It would take time to work that through Parliament, but it would certainly bolster our numbers and resources if we started gaining allies. The perfect time to push an idea like that would be right now; everyone's afraid of the Geth, and there's no better time to make allies than during a war. Human history is chock full of lessons of once-bitter enemies joining sides to face a common foe and becoming all the better for it. Hell, the old United Nations was built by former enemies brought together in the days after World War Two, England, France, and the United States once hating one another but bringing about an era of cooperation in the western world." Vanderloo nodded, knowing that period of history well. While there had been wars and incidences during the UN's existence, its one-hundred and fifty-year existence had ensured that there hadn't been a World War Three or a nuclear war. In that, it had succeeded as its originators intended. "I'll push the idea to Poppa Bear and Uncle Steven. Some of the hard-liners and alien-haters will blather, of course, but fostering some cooperations, perhaps a joint-species training program, inviting them onto some of our colonies to help catch them up while building relationships might make a difference of the next couple of years. Won't solve our problems now, sadly."

"Yeah, but who's to say how long things will last?" Mark interjected. "There's been more than a few wars where someone thought _we'll be home by Christmas_ only to find a war or its consequences dragging on for years. We do something like this now, whose to say we won't actually need it in the next five years or so? I don't see the Geth disappearing anytime soon."

"A fair point." Jane allowed, sighing as she picked up the datapad she had been reading before. "Mark, I need you to promise me something." Her green eyes went to him, her face blank but her eyes were anything but. "We still don't know what the deal is with this cocksucker save for his Conduit and his Reapers. We've got an entire galaxy to scour looking for someone whose use to fighting in the shadows and striking out unexpectedly. I don't know where he's at, where he's heading, or if the Geth are the only allies he has. All I know is that Saren Arterius is who this whole debacle is hinged upon; it was _he_ that wanted the Beacon on Eden Prime. We stop him, and we stop whatever the plan really is."

"The promise?" Vanderloo asked, having a feeling what it was about.

"I don't doubt this will end up as a one-on-one battle." Shepard looked to him, her face still blank. "I think that Arterius will _let_ me catch up to him only so he can goad me and wipe me off the map. With what he's armed with and what he's protective with… I don't doubt he'll succeed." Vanderloo felt his heart lurch at that, seeing Jane acceptance of her possible, even likely, demise. "If I find him? I want you to plot a telemetry of a kinetic strike upon his fucking fringe and erase him. He's a threat to our species and our way of life, and win or lose, I want you to make sure he ends up paste."

"Jane… I…" His mouth went dry at the thought, of that murderous order. It wasn't totally unexpected for a Naval Officer to put their life on the line for crew and mission, to sacrifice themselves for the good of all. But to deliver a kinetic strike in which there was no chance of escape or survival, to defeat a foe Shepard knew she couldn't beat? He had done a great many rotten things in their marriage, things he wasn't proud of at all. But never once had he ever wanted to hurt Jane, intentionally or not. To comply with her order was to kill her, to take away the woman that had once captured his heart, to take away his chance to make good on all the mistakes he had made.

A part of him would always love Jane Shepard, the woman who was always determined to improve herself, whose love for old 21st Century pop culture was amusing, and her preference for making tech toys with her bare hands. He remembered her as she was back in the Military Academy, a geeky tomboy who was fascinated with sci-fi culture and pulling things apart, delving into the latest tech to pull it apart and see what made it tick. She had been a bit of a wallflower back then, a young woman that had was more likely to hang out at the back of a crowd. Mark had been a good-looking young man even back then, having more than a few female Cadets batting eyelashes and flirting with him.

But it had been a shy and stammering Jane Shepard that had showed him something more than just simple infatuation and biological-driven hormones.

 _Mark remembered that first date, an awkward and timid redhead asking him to come to a function in which 'her family' was involved. Jane had described the outline in the briefest of details; family pressure inquiring about anyone 'special' in her life despite being in the Systems Alliance Military Academy, and Cadet Shepard wanting something resembling a 'normal' relationship to quieten the questions. Vanderloo had found it rather amusing at the time; being a sort of patsy date to impress parents and extended family so that the redhead would stop being pestered on having a man in her life, so he had said yes. He had thought that it would be an interesting weekend where he would be expected to act like a boyfriend should, say the right things, and then walk away without having to feel like he had to lie to a girl about his affections for her. Yeah, he had been a bit of a douchbag back then, a good-looking man who practically tripped over women throwing themselves at him. Jane had been a first of sorts; she hadn't asked him out on a real date to impress friends on a catch, dressed to please by accentuating her body, or acted as if Earth were in the palm in her hand. Shy, meek, stammering Jane Shepard had needed a date because she didn't know how, so she had picked a guy who could fake it for her._

 _It had to be the most incredibly awkwardly interesting weekend of his life._

 _The 'parents' in question were Captain Hannah Singer and Captain Kyle Singer, her mother and step-father, respectively. Then there was her adopted father, Captain David Anderson. And then her Aunt and Uncle, Alec and Ellen Ryder. And then another Uncle, Captain Steven Hackett. Cadet Mark Vanderloo soon found himself surrounded by the members of the Night Stalkers, the 'function' being the anniversary of the unit's creation and deployment to Shanxi. It was the twentieth anniversary of the unit, and the surviving members were all high-ranking members of the Alliance Military, several of them N7's, and celebrated for their actions both on Shanxi and afterwards. For three days, Mark found himself meeting Captains and Commanders, N's and retirees, several of them heavily decorated, and all of them well-known throughout Earth Alliance Space. These were some of the same men and women he had edified when he was a child, and discovering that Jane was the daughter of none other than Lieutenant John Shepard, the Hero of Shanxi? That had come as a shock. What was worse was that Jane had come with a boy, and practically every member of the Night Stalkers had praised her while giving him blatant stares, as if… well, they knew what he was; a player. No less than six men (three of them being N7's) had given him 'the talk' concerning Jane, in which Mark was completely and utterly truthful concerning their relationship; he had absolutely no intention of taking advantage of Jane, considering he never even looked at her twice before she had stuttered her way into asking him to rescue her from family preconceptions._

 _And yet…_

 _Mark found himself in a situation that he had never really encountered before. He never really met the parents of any the women he dated, not that he was interested in having such a relationship with them with that level of commitment. He was a boy toy; he knew it, and the women who dated him knew it. But finding himself at a family reunion of sorts, he found that he rather enjoyed the situation, learning from some of the best, while finding himself actually being listened to be some of the older generation without them just assuming that he was young, and thus an idiot. When they had arrived at the hotel in Vancouver, British Columbia, someone (and Mark never heard who had done it) had gotten both him and Jane their own room… with a single bed. Shepard had blushed so hard her face matched the color of her copper hair at the sight of the lone bed and no couch for Mark to conquer. That had been an utterly awkward night where the both of them had slept with a berm of blankets and pillows between them, the both of them dressed in full pajamas (in which Vanderloo had to buy some). Yet… Jane had opened up to him that night, actually talking about herself in small rushes in between shy pauses and nervous glances._

 _Mark had always talked about himself with his other dates, but those had been… superficial, really, nothing actually about himself, just his deeds and goals. Shepard had somehow found a way through those walls, smarter than his ego, and Mark found himself talking about his childhood; a poor-and-tough neighborhood in west Amsterdam. He was the child of a single mother who had worked herself to the bone raising him and his older bad seed sister, determining to leave his hometown and never return thanks to an athletic scholarship to the Systems Alliance Military Academy due to his involvement playing European Football. With Jane, he didn't feel the need to embellish or improve upon, or perhaps he knew he would be flattering only himself. He found himself staying up late at night talking with her, discovering her love for old music and movies, her affinity for gadgets, and the love she had for her zany extended family. Mark actually found himself telling her that he wanted to explore the stars not out of any sense of duty, but because he wanted to live an adventurous life, to command his own ship like the Captains of old, to make a difference in his own life and in the lives of others. That night marked the first time he spent time with a woman he didn't try to get into her pants, and yet… somehow… he found something different to covet._

 _Oh, the next morning was worse. Captain Anderson seemed amused to the fact that Mark and Jane 'shared' a single bed, and everyone assumed that they were that kind of couple. Absolutely no one believed him when he said that he was being the perfect gentleman (for once), and was shocked to discover Jane had it worse with the women! He had soldier through feminine questions and suggestions that he had no idea that women ask one themselves about their male counterparts, such as_ does he return the favor? _coming from Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Michelle Valentino in concerns towards third base, or inquiries of stamina and length of time from Command Master Sergeant Jill 'the Amazon' Dah, or a blatant question concerning if the equipment was as impressive as the rest of him from Senior Chief Petty Officer Katherine Hale. Mark wasn't sure who stammered worse through those questions; Jane or himself. There were more gatherings, this time politicians and the like showing up to honor some of Earth's mightiest heroes, and Mark found himself rescuing Jane more than a few times from reporters who wanted to interview the daughter of a legend, and fielding inquiries from politicians doing the same thing to inflate their self-importance. The day had wound on, and Vanderloo had found himself having dinner with not only Jane, but the Ryders as well; Alec, Ellen, and the twins Sara and Scott. He remembered Sara being an eleven-year old little ball of energy whose main descriptor of him was 'hunky', while Scott thought him the neatest thing since sliced bread. The Pathfinder had talked to him so easily… as if already family, and Mark had been touched by it. Sometime during the conversation, he found Jane's hand slipping into his own under the table, shy smiles sent his way. That hadn't been a ruse on her end._

 _That night, there hadn't been a berm of blankets and pillows. Oh, they were still clothed, but Mark found himself sharing warmth with a woman in bed, not her body. It had been… unusual, but pleasing. Jane was cute in a 'girl next door' sort of way, a lithe body that was athletically-toned instead of sculpted towards femininity; his usual preference. They had actually watched old flicks like the old Avengers movies and the third Star Wars trilogy, watching Jane practically glued to the Holovision screen as she cuddled him. Before? Mark would have done something like this to get a girl sweet enough for him to lose her inhibitions. But there was something about Jane Shepard that was different. He… actually enjoyed himself, waking up to a cloud of red hair and a warm body lying next to his own in the morning. He remembered how breathless she was when he pulled her in for a chaste kiss, and how shocked he was to discover that he was her first._

 _That Sunday proved to be the most awkward of all, Jane never letting go off his hand._

 _He wouldn't say he was 'paraded' around, but there was certainly a shift towards Jane's attitude, and those of the old Night Stalker crew. It almost felt like everyone had somehow been informed that they were engaged or something by the way they treated him, as a part of the family. It… had been interesting, but not unwelcomed. Breakfast had been as loud and as boisterous as a troop with family could expect to have, with jokes and stories to share, and Mark found himself the center of attention for a spell when none other than Fleet Admiral Jon Grissom asked him what he was looking forward to doing in the Navy. It had been Jane that had come to his rescue with Humanity's greatest hero had spoken to him, Vanderloo at a loss of words. Shepard had praised his intellect, knowing his grades and accomplishments in the Academy, pointing out his high scores in anything relating to Naval tactics and departmental evaluations, and even his tendency to being a stickler for details and proficiency with both himself and his subordinates. All of that was true, but hearing it from her? Mark had been touched. He had thought that Jane had selected him because she didn't want to go stag to a family function with so many important people, not wanting to be noticed as a twenty-one year old woman without a date, a boy toy to show around. Yet that moment had showed him that she hadn't merely picked him because of his looks or his charm, but for his intellect as well. That marked the first time a woman had ever sought him out for such a thing, who had bothered to notice what mattered to him. He wanted to make a difference… and he was doing so for this shy redhead who had bothered to learn about him as a person, not merely just as a man with good looks and charm._

 _To say that it was awkward was really more like that the fact that they were both playing a part. Jane had wanted to look like she was happy, to show the people that loved her that she was doing well by their standards. Mark knew what he was, and a part of him was a little concerned that those actions would reflect. He wasn't exactly pleased with the act of deception, and later than evening, he talked to Jane about it. Despite his ways, Mark was not very comfortable with lying; the women who sought him out or he sought out knew what he was about, and accepted it or not. But they knew the truth. Shepard had heroically went to her Poppa Bear with him to explain the situation, still shy but spelling it out to a man that she wanted to make proud of her. David Anderson was surprised, but grateful to know what was going on, and had been a little humored by the fact that Shepard went to one of the smartest, best-looking guys in the Academy to fill the role. Mark had done his half as well, telling him that he hadn't done to Jane what he was so use to doing with other woman, seeing her as just some pleasurable company that could part ways without complaints or regrets later. When he took her hand then and looked into her green eyes, he admitted to her that it had been one of the most awkward weekends of his entire life._

 _And he wouldn't mind working out of that awkward stage._

 _Jane's blush pretty much went neon when he asked David's permission to date his daughter._

"…Jane," Mark cleared his throat, finished reminiscing, "I don't know if I could give that order." Vanderloo admitted truthfully. In his minds' eye, he could still see that stammering Cadet with shy eyes and a blush on her cheeks as she forced herself to ask the hunky Captain of the Military Academy Football team out on a date, the geeky wallflower and the star jock. A part of him still loved her. A part of him always would.

"Even if it meant thousands of lives, Mark? Tens of thousands?"

"Without a twinge in my conscious." The Commander replied to his Captain, never breaking eye contact. "You're worth it. Always were, always will be." He leaned forward as Jane frowned. "We've got some of the best fucking minds in the Alliance right here in this very ship, willing to push the boundaries for victory. We will find a way or we will invent it. But I will _not_ bury you. I'll find Saren's ship and wipe it from existence, I will gun down his shuttle, I'll throw the micro-meteor out the airlock myself if I have to. But I will not kill you no matter how much of a good idea it seems to be at the time. Your father sacrificed himself to save his friends and family… and missed out on his daughters' life. I will not do so so blithely just so I can watch David's heart break and see Sara cry her eyes out. Is that understood?"

Jane looked at him for what seemed to be eternity, never moving, never saying a word.

"Even after all this time?" Shepard finally asked, her voice soft. He knew what she meant.

"Even after all this time." Vanderloo confirmed, nodding once. "I… was a Goddamn idiot, Jane. I was a boy who tried being a man, but fell back to being a boy when it mattered." He admitted, indicating their disastrous marriage. "I wish I could say that picking a player for a husband was a poor choice, but I think I wasn't ready to be that mature. You were ready, and I… wasn't. And you were the one who suffered because of it."

"Well, we both made mistakes. I wasn't there nearly as much as I'd like to have been after Elysium." Shepard replied, folding her hands and setting them on her desk. "I remember someone telling me that most N's ended up divorced due to long-term deployments, rapid deployments, and a whole host of other issues. I thought I'd be the exception and kept getting myself tied up in more missions and training during the Blitz. That… was more important to me at the time than our marriage. How long were we actually together in our four years of marriage? Five months? Six? You weren't the only one who could have tried harder, Mark."

"You weren't the one that was unfaithful." He replied, that old pain there. He still remembered when Jane had found out, coming to their Arc apartment to find another women in their bed. The woman (Veronica? Yeah, that was it) had been lucky that when rage and grief warred within the N7, it had been the tears that won out. Otherwise Veronica wouldn't have had remains left to fill a thimble. And that woman hadn't been the first. Or the dozenth, either. In the end, he had ended up just like his father, a man he had loathed for doing the same thing to his mother. "Know what I honestly miss?"

"Uh oh." That had the redhead smile.

"You bringing your gadgets and toys to the breakfast table, trying to juggle eating and soldering, or programming with your mouth full." Mark replied, a hint of a smile growing on his own lips. "I remember you working on that drone of yours, Ghost? You wouldn't stop yammering on what you wanted it to do, cramming it full of multi-core processors, high-gain tri-gate capacitors, M-Space memory chips, neural link interface lines… you would glow whenever you talked about crafting something new, inventing and scheming over breakfast and dinner. I missed that, seeing the _real_ you."

"I actually never would have guessed that." The redhead mused, looking thoughtful. "I think we were both a little on the young and immature side, both of us focusing too much on our careers. Yes, it got us where we're at now, but sacrificing our personal happiness in the process?"

"Now you know why I won't follow that order." Mark said with finality. Jane had nothing to respond to that.

* * *

1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko wasn't expecting his next destination to be _an interview_.

He got it, of course; Humanity's First SPECTRE was a big-ticket item all over the media. The news about the Assault of Therum had finally been released that day, and people were scared. Two attacks in less than a month, and Human Beings all over Earth Alliance Space were frightened, and rightfully so. A hundred thousand Geth had deployed upon Constant, Eden Prime, killing tens of thousands and converting thousands into Husks. Therum had a thousand deployed onto it, though thankfully Nova Yekaterinburg had been spared, the colonial capital of that planet spared. Therum was being spun up in a positive light; the few defenders defeating such a large number of assailants, civilians evacuated without a loss, the true objective of the enemy denied. Captain Jane Shepard was being celebrated for her daring rescue mission of a Human colony being attacked, praised for her swift response from the Cit to Therum. But the Systems Alliance had thought to include _another_ hero into the mix; Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder. That wasn't at all surprising, considering her history with the Lion, and no small measure on her part on Therum. The Angel of Illyeria was back into the spotlight, and Admiral David Anderson had arranged for an official interview with some of the ground team members who were involved in what was now being called 'the Second Miracle of Therum'.

An office was made available in the Human Embassy, and Alenko found himself along with the interview with Captain Shepard, Chief Ryder, and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams. None of this surprised him, considering he was being celebrated for his timely disposal of a fifty kiloton anti-matter bomb planted in Constant, enough to cause damage to the continent, and Williams being celebrated as the 'Lone Wolf of Eden Prime', the sole survivor of the Colonial Army Battalion and having fended off the Geth for an hour single-handedly before joining the ground team of the _Normandy_. As all four of them were there for Therum, it was their responsibility to assuage Human concerns and questions pertaining to the latest attack. People were scared, and they were there to allay those fears.

It was just the choice of reporter that he could have done without.

Khalisah Bint Sinan Al-Jilani was one of the more popular reporters in Earth Alliance Space, working for Westerlund News. She had a reputation of being biased and Earth-centric, asking leading questions, firing off accusatory remarks, and implying calumny-related opinions. Of all the people that the Black Fox could have gotten, Kaidan was trying to figure out _why her_? He knew that Khalisah had interviewed both Captain Shepard and Chief Ryder years ago, after Elysium, and the results of that interview had gone… rather disastrously. Al-Jilani had inferred that thirteen-year old Sara Ryder was an alien lover about halfway through the interview, and Lieutenant Jane Shepard had punched the reporter in the face at the accusation. Actually, that interview had gone off rather well in the public eye, and Kaidan had actually watched it when it happened, the interview a spotlight on the news media mogul. The reception of Shepard punching a reporter streaming live on the ExtraNet after said reporter verbally harassing a young girl who just so happened to be the Pathfinders' daughter had been quite warm, and sparked an in-flux of jokes that Sara had invented a week later on the 'Late Night Show' with Brandon Keenan now forever known as 'Jane Shepard Facts'. In fact, one of them had been _'The Lion doesn't do plastic surgery with medial equipment; she does facial reconstruction with her fist'_.

The four of them were now sitting in front of the woman whose nose had been broken by Shepard because she had made Ryder cry. Alenko already had a bet with Williams that it would be the Angel to perform facial reconstruction next.

"Good evening, and welcome to _Hard Line with Khalisah Al-Jilani_ ," the Persian-descendant woman started, an OmniDrone camera already filming from a location that would capture her face in full, while four others were situated to where they could capture the interviewees. Alenko knew that their images were likely picture-in-pictures underneath Al-Jilani's own, switching over whenever one of the talked to highlight who was being interviewed. He doubted that there were pre-arranged questions or even an agreed set of questions, as most interviews were wont to do. Sara had actually informed them of such protocols, and some tidbits on what to do when in a jam. It was sometimes hard to believe that their Corpsman was that little effervescent girl, a cute bundle of energy seven years prior. "In front of me today are ground team members of the SSV _Normandy_. Its Commanding Officer, Captain Jane Shepard, the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE. Petty Officer Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria and team leader during the Second Miracle of Therum. Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, the Lone Wolf of Eden Prime. And Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, the man who single-handedly saved Constant from anti-matter annihilation. Thank you all for being here today." Everyone gave their acceptance for the interview, though it was a little lackluster on the Captain's and the Chief's part.

"Now, Captain Shepard," Al-Jilani warming up, Alenko could tell, "having been made a Council Agent less than a month ago in a memorable induction ceremony in the Citadel Chambers itself, you have already been involved in an action in which you helped defeat the Geth and rescued members of the Systems Alliance Military facing overwhelming odds. Sources say that the objective was not a piece of Prothean Technology, such as it was during the Assault on Eden Prime, but a Protheantologist."

"That is correct, Ms. Al-Jilani." The redhead began, sitting calmly in her chair, flanked by Chief Ryder and Sergeant Williams. "We learned during on time on Therum that the objective was a member of the University of Serrice Expeditionary Team, notably for their expertise in the Prothean Fourth Era and post-Prothean Empire." Kaidan knew that the name _Doctor Liara T'soni_ would never be mentioned by them for security purposes. They still weren't a hundred percent sure why Saren Arterius wanted with the Protheantologist, if it was for her expertise or the fact her mother might be in league with the rogue Agent. "Thankfully, Chief Ryder and her security forces were able to evacuate both the Serrice and Oxford Expeditionary Teams without any injuries, denying the enemy their objective. Her and her twelve-man team were able to hold off almost seven hundred Geth for nearly a Terran day."

"That is most certainly impressive." The reporter nodded, though Kaidan noted that she wasn't exactly… sincere in her words. "Now, Chief Ryder, it's been some time since Humanity has seen the Angel. You've certainly grown up since the aftermath of Elysium. What have you been up to since we've seen you last?"

"Where should I start?" Sara's voice was full of humor, looking over to Shepard while Williams snorted loud enough to be heard. "Got accepted to the most prestigious school in the galaxy by merit alone, graduated fifth in my Peerage. While I was doing that, became the only Human Being to enter into the Citadel Emergency Medical Services as a xeno-Paramedic on a Skybulance, which I did for three years. Turned eighteen, joined the Navy as a Hospital Corpsman. Trained with the Marines on a Corvette, went to the Field Medical Training Battalion, got my Fleet Marine Force Insignia, and deployed to Therum." The humor died off with the last few words. "Lost thirty-two of my Marines." There was anger and grief to those words. There always would be, Alenko believed. "Now I'm on the _Normandy_ as a Corpsman, keeping us alive while making the enemy dead." Williams sealed it by bro-fisting Ryder in front of Shepard while the redhead merely chuckled.

"That… sounds like quite a bit, Chief." Khalisah replied, and the Lieutenant had a feeling that Ryder was likely to be the focus. He was pretty certain that it wouldn't be a good thing considering Al-Jilani's more Human-centric opinions and Sara Ryder's rather abroad life, education, and involvement with non-Human considering she was Cit-Born and raised. "The most prestigious school in the galaxy?" Yes, this was working out just about how he'd expected. Kaidan thought he could see what Admiral Anderson was doing by getting Al-Jilani.

"The Presidium Academy of Education." Ryder confirmed, and there was no mistaking the pride in her tone. "First Human ever."

"You didn't go to a Human-oriented school?" Ah, there it was. Yes, now he could see what was going on. Anderson was going to use the reporters' bigotry against her, Khalisah never realizing how _smart_ Sara was. Hell, Jane Shepard pegged as very intelligent, but Sara supposedly was even smarter. A more accepting Human would never get such details because they wouldn't be on the attack. Al-Jilani would fish for something to hold up to an ugly light… and highlight all of Sara's accomplishments in her feeble attempts.

"I took night classes at a few _Human_ -oriented Universities for medical licenses so I could be a Paramedic, but the Human Sector on the Cit didn't have the advanced educational requirements I desired to excel and achieve. Too many people thought us Human CitCitz… what was the term again, Auntie? The one Khalisah called me last time we talked to her?" Ryder was all fake smiles as the Angel turned to the redhead beside her, her tone a little _too_ sincere.

"Traitors." The Lion returned, her tone pure iron. "I think it was the Terra Now! Party that refused to put money into Human education abroad past Earth Alliance Space. I think their exact line on that was 'they can go find an education with the aliens'."

"Oh damn." Sergeant Williams muttered, trying to cover her mouth with a hand. Kaidan just whistled in admonishment. So that was why Sara had gone to the Academy? Because there were no private schools on the Citadel for Humans? Well… good for her.

"That was it." Ryder replied with a knowing nod. "Let me tell you, the acceptance exam is murder. Only three percent who take it pass, and only the top five hundred scores are accepted, regardless of how well one actually does. Something like a hundred _thousand_ apply for the Academy every annual session, and the classes are limited to five hundred per Peerage. Only Human ever accepted into the School of Impossible Questions." The tone was smug enough to spread like butter. From what he had seen of Sara? Yeah, Kaidan agreed she earned a little of it. "Scott had to make do with a distance learning course over the ExtraNet because we got voted out."

"Scott?"

"Scott 'the Viper' Ryder, two-time MVP in the BiotiBall Amateurs League." The Colonial Soldier filled the reporter in. "Sara's twin brother? You know she has one, right?" That was a zing.

"Ouch." Alenko offered that one up. Khalisah Al-Jilani might have a pretty face, but he could tell that it hid an ugly soul. "Didn't you tell me you got Paramedic of the Year twice in a row in the CitEMS? While outsmarting Asari and Salarians at school?"

"Junior Health Care Provider, but yes. While at the Academy." It was really amazing to think that the Corpsman was technically in _High School_ while being an _EMT_ at the same time. How the hell did she find the time? He understood from Detective Garrus Vakarian that the Academy Entrance Examination was something like a two-hundred question proctored test taken in a classroom and not over the ExtraNet, and the exam had a strict time limit. Garrus had mentioned that most didn't even finish the test due to the time limit, and the Turian sniper wondered if it had been engineered that way to eliminate some of the 'slower' species such as the Elcor, the Hanar, and the Volus. If it were true, it wouldn't have surprised the Biotic.

"That sounds… rather accomplished." Khalisah allowed, obviously getting the sense that this particular avenue of approach was likely a dead-end concerning Sara's education and activities on the Cit. _Most prestigious school_ and _underaged Paramedic_ effectively closed that door on picking apart her life. "So how was it that you were made aware of the threat on Therum, Captain?"

"When the Geth attacked the Dig Site," Shepard began, "they had hacked the Marine's communications array, denying them the ability to call for help. Chief Ryder found a flaw in the electronic attack and was able to send a message via another means." The N7 wasn't about to admit to the galaxy that she had been contacted personally by a Chirp; the Geth might close off that avenue of communications. "Upon learning of the attack, I readied the _Normandy_ and we set off to respond to the attack, knowing that a Fleet or a Squadron would take time to re-route. We were able to arrive first in less than twenty hours thanks to my crew. Unfortunately, we were too late for most of Red Platoon, having valiantly held off the Geth, taking down over a hundred at the cost of their lives. An evacuation team had been established for the possibility of an attack before Eden Prime, and the Assault had reaffirmed the possibility. It was Chief Ryder who led the evacuation team during the initial Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarm during Eden Prime, and again when Therum was under attack. Six Marines and five members of the Serrice Expeditionary Team under the leadership of Chief Ryder evacuated the Expedition and held off the Geth for nearly a day without any fatalities before we arrived."

"Floor was carpeted with Geth hardware." Williams coined, her tone pleased. "Geth got their asses handed to them by a dozen people." _Nicely put_ , Alenko thought to himself. They weren't going to explain how so the Geth wouldn't figure it out. The Captain had been explicit on being vague about such details so the Geth wouldn't adapt.

"But doesn't it bother you that there has been no response from any of the other species concerning the Geth attacks?" Ah… there's the biased journalism that Alenko had been expecting.

"Not true." The Lion replied quickly and decisively. This was slippery ground. "We have on the _Normandy_ a team of volunteers who see the act of war for what it is. There are others throughout Council Space who are lending their assistance as well; intelligence, resources, weaponry, and assistance."

"But the Council has deemed this a _Human_ affair." Khalisah pointed out, the hostility in full gear.

"After we've been saying for years that _we_ didn't want the Council in _our_ affairs." Shepard retaliated with an even tone. "There have been many outspoken critics about our level of cooperation and involvement with the other species of this galaxy, wishing to bury our heads in the sand and pretend that we don't need any help or intervention. You yourself have question our need for an Embassy on the Citadel and Embassies for the other species in Earth Alliance Space, questioning their motives and intentions. We were critical of them in a time of peace, and now we are all but begging for them in a time of war. What shall it be, Ms. Al-Jilani? Should we throw off the shackles of the Citadel and face the Geth on our own? How many lives will that cost? How many colonies?" The reporter had nothing to say, for once. "We can't expect to have allies at arms' distance, only to call on them during _our_ time of need. Cooperation means mutual advantage, a benefit to both. How much have we helped the Hierarchy during their Separatist Insurgency?"

"Why should we get involved?" Al-Jilani scoffed, scorn filling her tone.

"So why would they during our problems? They're in the middle of a war themselves." The Lion pointed out. "Yes, we ended up helping them with the death of Elanos Haliat, but that was for our benefit, not for their benefit. If we had gotten involved earlier… would we have prevented Elysium? The Blitz?" The questions were answered with silence. "The Parliament voted for no assistance needed during the Blitz, and we got what we asked for. How many lives were lost during the Blitz? How many people captured? How many vessels destroyed? Was that necessary, to assuage our pride?" Again, the reporter had no rebuke to offer.

Alenko felt troubled by what the Captain was saying. Not because she was saying it or what she was inferring, but… the fact that she might be correct. The Turians had been fighting an insurgency for nearly twenty years… and the Alliance had never once helped. Now the favor was being returned. One of the reasons that the Systems Alliance had so many Fleets involved with the Citadel Defense Fleets was so the Turians could fight that same Insurgency… something the Systems Alliance jumped on to get a bigger and better say in their role in intergalactic affairs. But it hadn't been to help the Turians, but to forward Human interests. Why would the Hierarchy get involved with another species' affairs when that same species had so clearly indicated it wanted no one's help? It was as the Lion said; the galaxy was taking Humanity at its word. Oh, he wasn't naive to think that there wasn't more to it than that, but the basic principle was true; Humanity _wasn't_ ready for the kind of threats the galaxy presented, as Councilor Sparatus Quinlinus suggested, and it had no one but themselves to blame.

"Lieutenant Alenko," the reporter looked to him, "as I understand it, the _Normandy_ has become a host of several _foreign nationals_ in its mission. How would you describe them?" Ah, more fishing. That Al-Jilani asked him was odd… unless she somehow knew about his time in BAaT. And Commander Juliux Vyrnnus.

"Utterly competent and completely committed to this mission." Kaidan replied sincerely, looking at the Persian woman. He reminded himself that, despite this woman's underhanded dirty tactics, she could and would perceive deception and latch onto it. "We worked together well on Therum, finding different ways to integrate and work together after coming together so recently. Captain Shepard had the entirety of the ground team put through a wringer to work upon mutual tactics and responses to further our teamwork and make us even more proficient. I think it says much when we can get a Rapid Response Sniper to comment on our rigorous training regime and identify it as 'expertly exhausting'." Again, they weren't allowed to identify particulars to keep the Geth as much in the dark as possible. There were already news reports of some of the _foreign nationals_ as Khalisah so ineloquently put it circulating the social media strata, and Detective Garrus Vakarian had been a big one, which was no surprise. Vakarian was a former Blackwatch Sniper who fought in the Relay 314 Incident, and now served on a Human vessel. The reactions to that were… interesting, to say the least. Urdnot Wrex, the big game hunter, was another. The Captain was rather glad that no one had noticed two Quarian Pilgrims or a Salarian STG Agent yet. Kaidan had to concur with that.

"That is surprisingly cooperative, considering your history." _Aww fuck._ "Were you not implicated in the murder of one Juliux Vyrnnus during your time in the Biotic Acclimatization and Temperance Training on Gagarin Station?"

"Are we calling self-defense 'murder' now?" Chief Sara Ryder spoke up, her tone dangerously hard. "Seems you implicate that a hired Turian mercenary who fought in the Relay 314 Incident wasn't responsible for vicious corporal punishment, torture, food and water depredation, thirteen training injuries involving physical abuse, and no less than five training deaths. Or do we only report a _part_ of the facts, now?" Alenko did his best to keep his jaw from dropping. How the hell had Sara known about that? Wait… her mother was Doctor Ellen Ryder, the premiere Biotic researcher for Humanity. Had she been aware of what Conatix Industries had done? Had Doctor Ryder been complicit or was caught unaware? He would have to ask Sara. "The attack in question involved a student in BAaT going several hours of rather punishing training without rest or hydration. When Commander Vyrnnus, the mercenary hired through scrupulous means to improve the abilities of young Human Biotics, wasn't getting the results he wanted out of a seventeen-year old girl under physical and mental duress, he broke her arm. Lieutenant Alenko intervened and had a _Talon_ pulled on him by the same instructor who liked to chide the students that he had killed their fathers on Shanxi. Kaidan defended himself from a known and armed assailant by kicking him in the head. Juliux Vyrnnus died due to a fractured cervical contusion that caused his spinal cord to become separated from his _medula oblongata_. That's a fancy way of saying he broke his neck with a kick. Any of that sound like murder, Ms. Al-Jilani? A _Human_ defending himself from an armed _Turian_?" Sara had really turn the tables on the reporter, basically accusing the Human-centric racist of siding with a Turian without actually say the specific words.

The only thing that broke the silence was Williams' not-so-subtle _damn_ emitted from behind her hand.

"Moving along…" The Persian woman insisted, obviously having lost that battle and knowing it, "Sergeant Williams, since being assigned on the _Normandy_ thanks to Captain Shepard, how would you say your time serving as an active duty member on a Naval vessel have changed the perceptions of cowardice concerning your grandfather?"

Light was louder than the Sergeants' response, but there wasn't a star in the galaxy the showed more furious than what crossed her face.

"Ash." A gentle hand went onto the Sergeant's as Captain Jane Shepard held the Colonial Soldier's hand, and Alenko admitted that he was rather impressed that Williams was able to calm herself enough not to bolt out of the chair and slug the reporter in her smug-looking face. Kaidan would have. Hell, he wanted to out of obligation for his subordinate! The Sergeant was visibly shaking in anger, the reporter striking a nerve by bringing up Ash's vilified grandfather, General Theodore Williams. Khalisah had gotten the reaction she wanted.

And then Kaidan won the bet with Ash.

Ryder was viper-quick as her right fist snapped out, slugging the Persian woman in the face, _hard_. Everyone visibly winced at the _crack_ Sara's knuckles made as she drove her fist straight into Al-Jilani's nose, knocking the woman backwards out of her chair and onto the floor. Khalisah Al-Jilani's feet were hanging up and out due to her chair, the rest of her sprawled out on the floor, the woman unconscious as Kaidan, Ash, and Jane all stood up slowly, seeing Chief Ryder standing over the woman, her fists balled and bared muscled arms flexed. In her face there was no mercy.

"You fuck with Doc's crew, and you fuck with Doc." The Corpsman said with utter venom in her voice, standing over the unconscious woman victoriously. "Theodore Bradley Williams fought tooth-and-nail for the colonists of Shanxi, standing tall for Mankind during its darkest days, crafting its finest hours through courage and sacrifice. Snakes like you aren't fit to lick his boots, attacking people for _ratings_." Sara kissed the knuckles of her right fist, almost like a prize fighter would after a bout. "Might want to check out that deviated septum. Seems it's misaligned. Again."

"Sara?" Captain Jane Shepard looked with a little more than mild amusement towards the Navy Corpsman as she gestured to the five OmniDrome cameras that hovered around them, all of them displaying a red indication light. "That… went out. Live."

"I think half of the prospect of this interview was to see Round Two." Ryder shrugged her muscular shoulders, making Kaidan snort. "What was the standard end line for these things when somebody goofs? _We'll return to our program after a word from our sponsors_?"

"Yep." The Lion said as Williams chortled, looking at the unconscious woman on the ground.

"Damn you've got yourself a mean right hook, Doc. I owe you a drink."

"Bajarita. At the Vortex. _So_ celebrating."

The four of them left laughing as the cameras continued to record.

* * *

Author's Note: Surprisingly? Nothing. This was mostly a family fluff piece showing David and Jannie's father/daughter relationship, and then a little bit about Jannie/Mark's so-called disastrous marriage. Life doesn't stop just because there's a war. Believe me; myself and many Vets can vouch for that one.

Bajarita - A concoction of my own devising, it is a Margarita that uses Mountain Dew Baja Blast instead of grapefruit juice. For those who think alcohol and caffeine are a partnership.


	20. Center Of The Known Universe, V

_Thank you for calling the BioWare Support Line! Currently, all of our operators are busy creating_ _Anthem_ _. Please stay on hold as we ruin another franchise!_

 **EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 3, 2183**

Author's Note: Here, I'm going to talk about the gift that keeps on giving. I'm sure more than a few Vets will get this reference.

* * *

Private First Class Louis Broussard headed down to the SSV _Normandy's_ Cargo Bay for morning PT, dressed in his Systems Alliance Marine Corps Physical Fitness Training uniform, a midnight-blue t-shirt with 'MARINES' stenciled in gray across the chest, and a pair of black sports shorts. It was almost 0530, and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams would be leading PT, doing her best to make sure the platoons' arms fell off doing push ups, pull ups, and overhead presses. He exited the elevator, not surprised to see that Captain Jane Shepard, 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder were already there, dressed and ready to 'get their swoll on' as Doc always said. He wasn't surprised to see that Doc already looked like she had been working out, usually adding her own regimen of bag lifts, double-body weight squats, clean and jerk lifts, and doing a light jog with a Navy SeaBag that weighed in at a hundred kilograms for her exercises. That was Doc for you.

"Bra, see you like showing up early. Unlike some I know." Gunny Williams called out as he arrived into the portion of the Cargo Bay where the Marines and other Human members of TEAM LION did PT and other personal regimens. Oh, SFC Williams did _not_ like being called 'Gunny', as she was Colonial Army, but the Marines liked to tease her. And got smoked for their humor.

"Aye aye, Top. Being all I can be." That had Doc snort at the old Army tagline as Sergeant Williams' brown eyes narrowed dangerously at him, trying to figure out if he was teasing her or being sincere. The Skipper was merely shaking her head, not bothering to hide her smile as she mouthed the word _nice_ to him. The other Marines showed up, Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss coming in first with Private First Class Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu in tow. Broussard saw Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach exiting the elevator last, looking distraught and walking… funny. Like he had to take a crap or had just gotten kicked in the balls. Ballsack's face was a mask of worry.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" Bra asked.

"Doc? I think I need you to look at something." The Private said, his voice meek and mild; that alone meant something was wrong. Ballsack was a loud idiot whose mouth was at FTL speed while his brain was set at zero functionality. They had gone to the Flux last night for a few hours Liberty, and Nate had gotten pretty drunk, hitting on anything semi-resembling a woman. Ballsack had showed up early morning hours with a parsec-wide grin, still pretty drunk and boasting about getting laid. Doc Ryder frowned, and Bra noticed that Ballsack was holding onto his PT shorts like they were going to fall down to his ankles due to gravity. "I think I caught something." That was admitted _very_ meekly.

"Uh oh." Gunny Williams smirked, her face all too knowing. "The gift that keeps on giving." Louis snorted at that. The Army called it that, too?

"From last night?" Doc asked, her face scrunching up. "Alright, Ballsack. Let me take a look." The Corpsman sighed as she took a few steps forward and pulled the elastic band of Ballsack's PT shorts forward to take a peek downward. Louis didn't see what she saw, but he certainly saw her reaction; a rather surprised double-take. "Okay. Wow. Yep, Medbay."

"Is it going to fall off?" Nate practically squeaked out. "Please don't lie to me, Doc."

 _What?_

"It'll be fine with some anti-histamines and cortisone creams. I won't even need to lance it to drain the fluids." That had the Marine Private squeak. Bra and Lapdance just shared a look that said _what the fuck?_ to one another. "As a suggestion? Next time you sleep with a female of the dextro variety? Wear a condom."

"No fucking way! You slept with a Turian!" Hoss hooted, slapping his thigh as he laughed out loud. "God, that's got to feel like cuddling with a washboard made out of sandpaper!"

"It wasn't that bad." The Private protested, but then his face winced. "My dick really hurts, though. I didn't think it would be that color or that size afterwards."

"Marines." Captain Shepard said, shaking her head as she looked to Lieutenant Alenko. "Now I'm almost curious what color and size it is now."

"Um… serious?" Bra tried not to facepalm himself. Ballsack was an idiot.

"Okay, I'm officially curious now." Gunny Williams responded, her arms folded across her chest. "You did the dirty deed, but it don't count unless you got proof. You're willing to whip it out for a Turian chick."

"Um… okay." Broussard groaned as Balsach decided to take the Colonial Army Soldiers' word, and dropped his drawers in front of Cargo Bay, Crew, and Commanding Officer.

"Holy… _shit_." Holland's jaw was practically at his knees it dropped so hard, looking at…

"I think it's going to burst." Louis said, somewhere in between horrified and mystified. He was actually shocked that it hadn't exploded, it was that swollen. And that purple. It looked like an eggplant that caught the chicken pox, Broussard thought. He didn't even know human flesh could turn that color. Or be that grotesquely swollen. He know _of_ dextro-allergy reaction, but that was usually a warning for food. Now? Also personal exploration.

"Oh yeah, that's Turian Dick, alright." Doc Ryder confirmed, nodding her head as everyone just stared at Balsach. Or more specifically, his allergy-swollen organ. "Seen it a few times back in CitEMS. No worries, I won't have to cut it off or anything." That had the Private whimper.

"What is everyone looking at _Oh My Fucking God!"_ Seaman Rosamund Dravens came from the elevator and had gotten curious as to why everyone was staring at Private Balsach. The young LADAR Technician was now staring at the same thing everyone else was. "Dude, what happened to your _penis_?"

"Stuck it somewhere he shouldn't have." Ubantu replied, the dark-skinned Marine getting a snicker from Hoss. "It might fall off. Or explode."

"It's not going to explode, is it Doc?" Nate was almost in tears. Louis didn't feel sorry for him at all, though the sight of his overtly-swollen organ had him wincing. Okay, perhaps he felt a _little_ sorry.

"I hope this doesn't make the recruitment ads." Lieutenant Alenko said to the Captain, looking bemused. Louis noted that, from out of nowhere, Detective Garrus Vakarian was standing near the group, his strangely-shaped eyes assessing the damage as well. The Marine hadn't seen or heard the Turian come in, or where he had come from. Something that large shouldn't be that quiet.

"Mated with a Turian female, I see." The Rapid Response Sniper nodded his fringed head sagely. "Had that before. It gets more interesting when it starts leaking pus." Balsach looked ready to cry.

"Garrus! He doesn't know that isn't true." The Corpsman admonished the Turian, turning back to the afflicted Private. "We'll go to Medbay, and we can have it back to normal in about a day or two. It _will_ involve some shots at the site, though."

"You mean…?" Even Ballsack knew what Doc meant. Every guy in the Cargo Bay winced, even the Detective.

"Those shots hurt." The sniper nodded. "You can trust me on that."

"Medbay, now!" Doc Ryder announced, pointing to the Cargo Bay elevator while flashing the Detective a dirty look. Balsach slipped his PT shorts back on with gentle care as he walked funny back towards the conveyance with Doc right behind him. As soon as they were gone, Captain Shepard started laughing.

"I guess we get to do a 'Kirk' Award for Ballsack." The redhead announced, making everyone groan at the reference to a sci-fi Captain with a propensity of sleeping with aliens. "I'm just shocked it didn't, I dunno, rip through the skin?"

"A part of _me_ hurt looking at it. And that's not biologically possible." Gummy Williams announced, getting Lapdance to snicker. "Now I'm curious how Garrus knows that the shots Balsach needs really do hurt."

Everyone looked at the Sniper.

"Dude, you banged a Human girl?" Hoss asked, utterly perplexed. Hoss wasn't the brightest LED in the set, but he had certainly called it.

"Rude. We don't call it that." The Turian replied. He certainly wasn't denying it, though. "Found out the hard way our first time. I feel sorry for that female Turian Ballsack was with. She's having the same issue right now."

"Wait! You mean…" Rosamund Dravens looked at the C-SEC Officer in horror, pointing in the direction that Balsach had gone. " _Inside?_ "

"Yes. I imagine it's quite uncomfortable right now." Louis tried not to think of how, somewhere out on the Citadel, there was a female Turian with a grossly-swollen uterus, probably lying in her bed, moaning and groaning. "There are applications, of course. But they're meant to be applied before. If one doesn't?" The Sniper shrugged. "The shots."

"That's just eww." Williams stuck out her tongue in disgust. Broussard found himself _very_ grateful that Niki'Raan nar Tombay had a built-in condom in her EnviroSuit, otherwise, _he_ would have had Turian Dick. And she… did he even want to know the equivalent? "Feel sorry for the girl you… y'know?"

"It's called 'Bird Flu'." The Detective replied dryly, and Hoss had to cover another snicker. "The flip side is known as 'Monkey Cum'." The Sniper was surprised when all the Humans had a good laugh at what he expected to be a racially-derogatory term. "What?"

"That's the nickname of a weapon lubricant and axial greaser we use for cold weather." The Skipper replied, still chuckling. "It's called 'LSAT'; Lubricant Solvent, Arctic Temperature. But we call it 'Monkey Cum' because it's white, thick, and creamy." Everyone had another good round of laughter at the Detective's expense when his mandibles flared out.

"Humans are weird." The Sniper declared.

"Says the guy banging one." Gunny snarked back. Everyone laughed again.

* * *

Doctor Liara T'soni stood in front of a piece of SMARTglass set against one of the walls of the SSV N _ormandy's_ Cargo Bay walls, looking upon all the recent acquisitions that the SciTech Department had gathered over the past two days. Petty Officer Sara Ryder had collaborated a great deal of ideas with the help of her Department pertaining to ideas and answers to threats and assessments towards what the Geth were capable of. There was now a separate holographic intelligence tree labeled 'Saren Arterius' pertaining to his possible capabilities. The answers under that heading were very little and blink.

"Raeka? Tali? I want you two to look at everyone's armor and make sure we have all our software suites updated and CyWar defenses meshed and compliant." Chief Ryder talked as she addressed her department, the smaller Human female fitting well in her position. "You are better at software than everyone else, so what I want you to do is install as many hardcoded programs as we can fit into the memory chips as we have space for, and make sure that the coolant systems are linked to the polymath processors in case the Geth get creative and try to disable hardware with hacks. Then I want you to turn around and hit it with everything you've got, anything you can think of, and see what works and what doesn't. I do _not_ want to find out on the field where we are vulnerable if I can help it. Have SAM assist you in looking for coding errors and mal-scripts in your methods."

" _Different codes in different armors would deny the Geth all-inclusive capabilities in case they do hack through our firewalls and defender programs."_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya replied, the Quarians thinking it over. _"It will always be a possibility that the Geth_ will _get into something, but changing different languages and programming means it will limit a vulnerability to just one member, instead of them exploiting the same vulnerability in everyone."_

"Concur." Special Tasks Group Agent Zevin Raeka replied, nodding her head.

"Okay. More work, but better chances. I like it." Ryder nodded her head. "Garrus? Weapons. I know a gun nut like you probably wants to craft the most potential kinetic energy per shot in each weapon," the Turian's mandibles grinned at that, "but we need versatility, too. I'm thinking a sustainment weapon, a multi-purpose weapon, and then a heavy effect weapon. Take Ash and Wrex out to play to give us a field test. Don't be cheap with the materials, either. Frictionless materials, high-grade synthetic ceramic heatsinks, iridium barrels… whatever gives us more bang for our Cred, do it. I got us allotted a pretty Cred for state-of-the-art equipment and exotic materials for just that, so tinker and craft to your hearts' content. Just run models through a computer first before crafting something."

"I'm not a… what was that Human term again? Newb?" The Turian told her dryly. The Chief just smiled at him and Liara tried to puzzle out what a 'noob' was.

"You're right, Vakarian. I apologize." The Navy Corpsman replied with a bow of her head. "Doctor T'soni? You are going to work with Marshal Collins. We've got several people who have been investigating Saren; movements, locations, purchases, sightings, past missions and the like. While we've gotten some headway in that endeavor, we have found obvious gaps in information, no doubt to his status as a Council Agent, classification, deleted reports, and likely bribery. We think he's been doing something to this effect for quite some time, perhaps even longer than a decade thanks to a report we have when his ship was located in the Far Rim back around the same time Mindoir was happening." Liara did not immediately get the reference to the location, though she had heard of it before somewhere. "Saren has confederates, others working in his steed, and what I want you to do is to aid Marshal Collins in her investigations of them. We think that might fill in some of those gaps, not to mention they could easily be doing things in Saren's name now that he has been deemed a _sapient non-gratis_.

"Doctor? I want you to investigate your mother."

The Protheantologist felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"Benezia's involvement is mystifying everyone." Sara continued, looking at her. "No one can figure out why an Asari Matriarch with a history of being a Priestess of Athame, an Ambassador to Earth, and one of the negotiators for the cessation of hostilities during the First Contact War in _Humanity's_ favor is now in league with a Turian who is so obviously and blatantly prejudice against Mankind. We don't know how long she might have been working for, under, or alongside Saren. We're not even sure that she is fully compliant; it could be duress. The only solid piece of evidence that we have is that recording recovered by Tali'Zorah and Niki'Raan where Saren is talking to Matriarch T'soni _after_ Eden Prime.

"I want you to do what you do best, Doctor; I want you to _dig_."

"I… am not an investigator or a Detective, Chief Ryder." The Maiden reminded the Corpsman, her voice meek. Goddess, investigating her _mother_? She had nothing to do with her mother in over twenty years! Ever since she had finalized her notion into becoming an Archaeologist with the intent to become a Protheantologist while in her fifth year at the University of Serrice. The Lady Matriarch had not been pleased with Liara's decision to follow her own dream instead of her mother's insistence into becoming a Political Arts Major towards Intergalactic Relations. Her mother wanted her to become a _diplomat_ , a _politician_! The Asarikin had her fill of politics when she was but a Youngling, her mother working amongst diplomats, attaches, elected officials, interest groups, lobbyists, self-inflated egos, and sycophants. Liara knew that politics were necessary, but she wished to have nothing to do with them. The Doctor did not want to admit it in front of 'Doc' Ryder, who was an intelligent, kind, caring example of her species, but Liara thought Human politics the worst of the lot.

"Yes, but you are likely to know and understand Lady Benezia the best." Sara pointed out, and thankfully there was no incriminating tone in her voice. "I don't ask you to investigate her out of meanness, but out of that understanding. You might connect points that we would miss due to personal knowledge. It could be that your mother is forced to act on Saren's behalf, or perhaps she is unaware of his intent."

"You do not believe that." T'soni interjected, pointing out the obvious.

"No, I don't." Ryder nodded immediately, not being deceitful. "But what I believe and what is true are two separate things. Benezia is at least _aware_ that there was an attack on Eden Prime according to the audio file, but she may be under the impression that it could have been a Council-sanctioned mission. Seeing what Saren possesses… it could be that she is a hostage of some kind, and perhaps in league only to spare herself… or someone she loves." Liara tried not to wilt under the gaze of a Turian Detective, a Salarian STG Agent, and a Quarian Pilgrim, all of them looking at her now. "The point is that we don't know, so it's better to look than to assume. Marse Collins has a good deal of information pertaining to your mother, but that's all it is; information. There might be something there that will clue us into to her involvement; the why, the when, and the how. It could be that this information leads to a rescue mission instead of a mis-assumed arrest or confrontation." Liara knew what Sara was doing; coaxing her into cooperation out of a sense of familial love. Having this 'Marse' Collins meant that the Asarikin would have a difficult time concealing any incriminating facts that she might uncover pertaining to her mother. But it also meant that if Liara found anything that recuse her mother out of charges, there would be an impartial investigator at her side to confirm that the Protheantologist did not fabricate any evidence. Like Sara, Liara T'soni was an Alumni of the Presidium Academy of Education, and she saw what Sara intended. If their situations had been reversed, the Doctor would have likely done the same thing.

"I shall." The Maiden finally replied, nodding her crest towards the Human female. "Where can I find this _Serah_ Collins? And… what exactly is a Marshal?"

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard sat at her chair in her quarters, reading a datapad with Council Agent Avitus Rix's SPECTRE-related information on it when there was an electronic knock at her door. Remembering her invite, she gave verbal permission for the door to her cabin to unlock to see Sara Ryder coming in, dressed in civilian attire more appropriate for a club or venue that they had planned for Liberty later on in the Night Cycle.

"SPECTRE 101?" Sara teased her as the Corpsman took to Jannie's bed, lounging on it slightly as the brunette looked at her.

"To think this is just the basic concept." The redhead replied, indicating the datapad. "This was all stuff Nihlus was suppose to teach me and guide me through. Not just show me where the SPECTRE Home Office was, but things like setting up a network of agents, getting intel sources, setting up covers and drop locations, overall rules and views of authorized actions without having to go to the Council for permission under unusual circumstances. Did you know I could legally detonate a building with people inside if I found a Level Three infraction?"

"Do I want to know what a Level Three infraction is?" Ryder's tone was disgusted at the thought of what sounded to be mass murder.

"There's five in total." Shepard replied, setting the datapad down on the desk next to her. "The stories we hear are mostly Level One and Two infractions; personal crimes and atrocities, respectively." It was widely known that if a Council Agent was sent after someone, that an arrest wasn't necessary. The SPECTRE-in-question could (and usually did) kill the person without capture or trial. _Judge, jury, and executioner_ wasn't a byline when it came to Council Agents; it was a reference. "A Level Three infraction is a Treaty or Convention infraction, someone who is violating Council Law, not just some species or judicial law. Creating an AI?" That had Sara go pale. She had informed Jannie what Alec had done in the name of saving Aunt Ellen from Eezo Cancer. Sara now knew that her fathers' life could very well be forfeit. Also her mothers' at the time. Possibly even the twins. "The Council doesn't fuck around, kiddo. They take infractions seriously, and they tell Agents to make a splash to remind everyone else of the repercussions."

"So that it warns the next ten or so not to do the same thing." The younger woman nodded, still looking perturbed. "I know being in the military requires tough decisions, and being a Commissioned Officer even more so. We hold Captains," Sara gestured towards her, "in such high esteem because of the level of damage or destruction you _can_ cause. One shot from the _Normandy's_ main canon on an outpost or colony can cause severe infrastructural damage, and multiple can even lead to environmental damage if you aimed at a volcano or a fault line. I guess that's one of the reasons the Alliance frocked you so quickly with your pause button." That had Jannie snort at the nickname for Captain's bars. "But to unleash a kinetic strike on a building for just one sapient?" That had the Corpsman silent, her blue eyes haunted. "I would call it morally disgusting… but I can actually think of someone where that might be an appropriate response."

"Really?" Shepard had the sense that Ryder wasn't referring to Saren Arterius. "Who?"

"You… don't know him." The younger woman replied, sitting up on the bed, in a position that suggested anxiety. "But in some ways, he's worse than the Bloody Talon. Saren… has a goal. It's probably a mixture of personal vendetta and pursuit, but I bet he can come up with some justification where it's for the good of all. Assholes are like that." That had Jannie snort. Yeah, wasn't that the truth? "Who I'm thinking about? It's all for himself. It isn't a goal or an achievement.

"He plays at being God. Actually doing a pretty good job at it, too."

"Wait, was this that… Red Harvest thing you barely ever mention and clam up about?" Shepard asked, her heart skipping just a little. Sara never told her anything about it, not really. All she knew was that somehow sixteen-year old EMT Ryder somehow got involved with the C-SEC Special Crimes Unit, working with Detective Garrus Vakarian, and went missing for a week and a half. Scottie had been in full-panic mode when his twin sister didn't come one night, their father off doing whatever to save his wife, and had contacted his Aunt Jane when she was missing for a second night in a row. Even Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis of _Skybulance-37_ had gotten involved. All Scott, Jane, Shayla, and Alixa discovered from an official C-SEC 'fuck you' description was that Emergency Medical Technician Sara Ryder was 'assisting' on a case for the SCU. Ten days later, Sara had returned in the talons of a Turian Sniper, neither one of them say a damn word about the ordeal; where they had gone, what had happened, and why Sara had nightmares for months on end.

Jannie had taken an emergency leave to the Cit with the intent of riping Garrus' spine out and beating him with it until he talked, but Sara had coaxed the redhead out of her fury, telling her that the Rapid Response Sniper had been the one to save her. When she saw the Turian again years later, after Eden Prime and on Saren Arterius' case, Jannie had been conflicted on what to do with the Turian Detective. A part of her wanted to peel his fucking plates off. Another part of her remembered that Sara had been _saved_ by this Detective who had put his own life on the line to save a young Human woman. Twice, actually. Yet another part remembered… no, no need to go into that. Sara had suffered that cataclysm, and it hadn't been Vakarian's fault at all. No one knew, and no one needed to know.

"There… are days that I want to tell you." Sara wasn't even looking at her, staring at a wall, more like staring _through_ it. "But I know what you'd do, Auntie. You'd turn this ship around and hunt that fucker down. As much as that would make me smile… that's the last thing I'd want to see." Her blue eyes were haunted, her voice tinged with sorrow. What the hell happened during those ten days? Sara took a big sigh. "Garrus still looks for him, you know? Finds traces of him here and there. Told me when he can peg a location, he's going to hunt his ass down. For me." Yeah, Jannie could totally believe it. Garrus… as much as she _didn't_ like Turians, Jane Shepard did like and respect Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian. She knew that with Sara, it was more than that. "Nothing would make me happier than to see his corpse and _smile_." There was venom in that tone, strong enough to curl blood. That sweet, effervescent little girl that Jannie had seen grown up had taken a vacation, and something _bitter_ existed. "Believe me, if we every find the guy and you want to kinetic strike him? I'll push the Goddamn button myself with a smile."

This was unlike Sara. _Very_ much so. This wasn't the young woman who went to the Academy, busted her ass to be an underage EMT, who joined the Navy to be a Hospital Corpsman first, and then busted her ass again to be a Fleet Marine Force Corpsman. This was someone that had a brush with something vile, something _evil_ , and it had shaken her to her very core. Jannie knew all about that; N's went and located assholes throughout Alliance Space, and she herself stopped a good dozen slaver enterprises during the Blitz. Going into a slave pen… there was no way to describe how truly heartbreaking it was to kick in a door and seeing begging, pleading eyes, or the soullessness of those so abused that they would never escape, not on the inside. The redhead remembered this one Asari Maiden that had been made into a sex slave for something like two decades, and finding the Asarikin with the lights on but nobody home. The Maiden had regressed mentally into an almost catatonic state because of the ordeal. For Sara, she had a brush with something beyond the pale and it had changed her into something far colder, something repressed, buried deep inside.

"Kiddo, _talk_ to me." Jannie insisted, getting out of her chair and sitting next to the Corpsman, slipping her arm around Sara. This wasn't the first time she had tried. "It's obviously eating you up. I remember the nightmares you had, how _scared_ Scottie was. If he's someone that pegs the Council's asshole list, then we can make a detour if we locate him."

"Garrus did send to the Office of Special Tactics, four years ago… and he's still alive. That's why I'm afraid of telling you, Auntie. This isn't a guy you want to face at all." The Lion tried to figure out how that was possible. Somehow, this was beyond bullets and armor. Detective Garrus Vakarian was a former Blackwatch Sniper, a Detective of C-SEC Special Crimes, and a Sniper with the RRU. That alone should have been enough. And someone that was on the SPECTRE Hit List for four years and still breathing? Did that mean… he had killed a SPECTRE hunting him down? Sara was absolutely _terrified_ of whatever it was, too afraid to tell her Auntie about it… in fear for _Jannie's_ life.

What the fuck could this guy be?

* * *

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian hoisted his Elanus Risk Control Services M-15 Vindicator, the three-shot assault rifle's weight comfortable in his talons. It had been extensively modified due to his position in both the Citadel Security Services Special Crimes Unit and Rapid Response Unit, able to get his talons on expensive and rarely-produced weapons augmentations such as improved materials for an extended barrel to link with the weapons' software suite for better Mass Effect efficiency to deliver more kinetic force per round without actually having to amp up the power management system… which he did that, too. The heat sink, the bore of the rifle, the counterweights for recoil, the VI… all had been upgraded towards power and efficiency to deliver as many Joules to a target with as little sacrifice to the other systems in the weapon. Garrus knew that a peak performance weapon was all about balance; that adding to one thing would inevitably take away another. It took a master machinist with a proficiency towards calculations and calibrations to turn a weapon into a masterpiece.

With that in mind, he began looking towards the other weapons in the _Normandy_.

He knew what Chief Sara Ryder had in mind when she had asked him to help improve the weapons. When he was commissioned into the Hierarchy Navy after graduating from the Presidium Academy of Education seventeenth in his Peerage, he had gone in as a Weapons Officer. He spent his first year being trained on everything from pistols to ship-killing cannons, learning how to manage them, calibrate them, improve upon them, and turn them to a point of potent lethality better then when they were brand new. The next two years were filled with him honing himself to not only be more proficient in his profession, but honing himself for the Trials; what one entered to be accepted into the Blackwatch. He had passed with flying colors, becoming a Blackwatch Infantry Support Specialist; a sniper. He had deployed to Shanxi with a heavily-modified Devlon Industries' M-92 Mantis, the sniper rifle carrying him through every mission as he fought against Human colonists and frontiersmen, militia and law enforcement personnel before the coming of _Operation: Repensium_ ; the Systems Alliance retaliatory strike and attempt to retake their colony. His proficiency with power and kinetic balance in both weapons and armor had made him… well, not a titan of the battlefield, per se, but his shields lasted longer without sacrificing on long-term power supply while his shots delivered maximum damage without damaging weapons components on an overclocked Mass Effect field generator.

Looking at the M-15, knowing what had been done to it, knowing what _he_ had done to it, Garrus Vakarian went to work.

He started by picking up one of the Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifle that the Human Marines carried, deciding to work from the ground up, so to speak. The Karseus was a Human-version of the Turian-manufactured Cipritine Armory's Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle, being lighter and smaller than the Hierarchy's heavy support weapon. The Sniper ran his talons over the weapon, finding it to be a sort of little sibling to the Phaeston, and that had him think of some of the mods and enhancements he had seen in his time both in the Blackwatch and in C-SEC. With that in mind, he queued up his Special Crimes-issued Cipritine Armory Nordash OmniTool, found a music player app, and linked it with the small bluewire speakers in the armored gorget of his cowl for his Rapid Response Unit-issued Armax Arsenal's Predator H-Series Armor. Finding a playlist titled _Awesome Mix Vol. 2_ that had been given to him, Garrus played the first song, a slow smile expanding his mandibles as he heard what was described to him as _the funk._

" _Heeeeeeeeey! Give to me, now!_

" _Now once I was a boogie singer,  
_ _Playin' in a rock-n-roll baaaaaannndd!  
_ _I never had no problems,  
_ _Burnin' down the one-night stands!_

 _And everything around me, yeah  
_ _Got to stop to feelin' so llllooooowwww!  
_ _And I decided quickly, (oh, yes I did)  
_ _To disco down and check out the show!_

 _Yeah, they was dancin', and singin',  
_ _And movin' to the groovin'!  
_ _And just when, it hit me,  
_ _Someone turned around and shouted…_

 _Play that funky music, white boyyyyy!  
_ _Play that funky music, rrrriiiigggghhhhttt!  
_ _Play that funky music, white boyyyyy!  
_ _Lay down the boogie,  
_ _And play that funky music 'til you die!"_

The music comforting his ears, Garrus went to work pulling apart the R36 Karseus Battle Rifle, removing the upper cover and disengaging the munitions shaver, taking a pair of micrometer calibers and some precision tools to bore out the shaver to make the systems extract a large gram round per shot, increasing the kinetic force by weight alone. The work was meticulous and precise, needing a well-trained eye and a steady hand to bore out the shaver without making any mistakes. Vakarian took his time turning the shaver into a medium-weight gram extractor, bringing up its capabilities to that of a seven point five gram round. The increase was one that he knew of well with the Phaeston, and the Karseus was the Human version. It took him ten minutes to drill out the extraction portion of the shaver, the song by _Wild Cherry_ ending as it moved to the next song.

" _Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga! Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga!  
_ _Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga! Ooga-chaka! Ooga-ooga!_

 _I can't stop this feeeeling,  
_ _Deep inside of me!  
_ _Girl, don't you realize,  
_ _What you do to me?_

 _When you hold me,  
_ _In your arms so tight.  
_ _You let me know,  
_ _Everything's all right!_

 _IIIIIIIaaaiiiiiiaaaiiiii!_

 _I'm hooked on a feeling!  
_ _I'm high on believing,  
_ _That you're in love with me!"_

The bore worked finished, the Detective re-inserted the shaver and pulled out the Mass Effect field generator, looking at the power modulation control on the side of the power pack. He pulled it off in lieu of a new one, having bought several for just this purpose. They had been programmed to deliver a full force upon the round without any excess bleed of power or residual energy left behind, getting as close as one hundred percent power used to drive the round as possible. Most common weapons delivered about ninety percent efficiency, the rest going to waste as excess heat, Garrus knew. Getting that last ten percent was actually an expensive endeavor, but it delivered ten percent more power without increasing heat or power management. The Turian inserted the upgraded Mass Effect field generator power modulation control onto the side of the component, and then looked to the quality of the Eezo pack inside the generator. It was standard Light Eezo, missing an electron that was pretty standard for weapons-grade Element Zero. He pulled out the pack and inserted a Heavy Eezo replacement, a proton-heavy core that was generally manufactured for ship cannons to deliver more force per round. It would change the power management slightly, but with the power modulation having been upgraded, the Karseus wouldn't actually lose any shots before cooldown while being twenty-five percent more powerful per shot in both kinetic impact and penetration.

The Sniper re-inserted the generator back into the weapon, and cocked back the insert bolt, activating the system.

"SAM? Run diagnostic analysis." Garrus asked the AI he had been conversing with from time-to-time ever since Sara had introduced her SciTech Department to the development.

[I note a twenty-five percent increase to force and impact of Joules in the weapons systems, Detective], the male-voiced AI said simply over his OmniTool, keeping the conversation personal. [Analysis suggests that the round extractor will decrease in condition thirty percent faster, and will be more susceptible to jams and friction during extended combat usage]

"Right on target." The Sniper nodded, pleasantly pleased that the Artificial Intelligence was right on the mark. It was a Medical AI, but it had gauge the issue correctly. He extracted the shaver and generator and placed them into the OmniForge on the weapons bench. "Open up fabrications suite and an exploded diagram of the components inside, SAM, and I will talk you through how to remedy that issue." A holographic representation of the components presented itself in front of him, and Garrus Haptically pointed out key locations of what would be altered and modified. "We're going to put a micrometer's worth of Cadium here, one even layer," Vakarian pointed out a plane on the shaver, "while this piece here will be re-fabricated into Titanium-Silicon-32," that was a piece that fed the round from the shaver to the generator, "and then the housing of the generator will get shelled in a Copper-Iridium alloy known as Ubiqum," he typed out the chemical formula quickly. "Run analysis for changed perimeters."

[Analysis suggests a fifteen percent less chance of jamming than original components before alterations] Sam said a few moments later. While his voice inflection didn't change, Vakarian suspected the AI was impressed. [There is also a ten percent decrease in friction. This weapon will now fire seven more shots before cooldown state than before while delivering a quarter more power per shot]

"I haven't lost my touch." Garrus grinned, the effect lost on the AI. Or perhaps not.

[I have an inquiry]

"Ask away, SAM."

[Why are common weapons so… under-performing compared to what you carry, Detective?] The AI asked. [A detailed analysis of your Vindicator over a store-bought one shows that yours outperforms in every category, sometimes in percentages that are quite impressive. Why not make all weapons this way for organics such as yourself? Those who defend the law and organic sapients?]

"Ah, the same question every Boot Camp Recruit asks." The Turian chuckled, nodding his fringed head as he tapped his talons on the work bench as he leaned on it, watching the Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge begin working on the Karseus components in the way he had programmed it to. "That ERCS Vindicator is sold to whomever wishes to purchase it; law-abider and lawbreaker. Would you wish to field a weapon that can defeat common defenses so easily to anyone with the money to purchase it or the capability to steal it?"

[I see your point. It is a question of distribution] The AI replied, sounding… thoughtful. [I have noted many members of the _Normandy_ doing much to alter or modify components and equipment throughout the vessel, both of the vessel and what is inside of it. They speak of ending vital signs faster, of the upcoming actions in which they boast of being victorious. Do all organics feel this way about conflict?]

"Hmm. Yes, but not in the way you suggest." Garrus replied, thinking it over. In some ways, SAM was like a hatchling willing to learn. A _very_ smart hatchling. "Most do not like the thought of ending a life. Yes, this might be different with the Geth, in which most organic sapients may feel that 'killing' does not strictly apply. Yet for most, it is not the act of ending a life in which they think about. Tell me, based upon your observations and interactions, do you like Sara?"

[Technically, she is my sister] The voice replied, but there was a pause. [I do enjoy conversing with her and observing her. She seeks to improve and excel, and she enjoys helping others. I find this emotional diagnostics beneficial and… reciprocal]

"So you do like her. She is a friend." The Detective pointed out. "You would grieve if she came to harm."

[Yes] A simple but powerful answer, there.

"What would you do to prevent that from happening?"

There was a ten second pause in the reply. An eternity, for a synthetic being, Garrus suspected. It wasn't processing power or thought speculation. SAM… had a conscious, perhaps?

[I miss her]

It took a moment for the sniper to realize whom SAM was talking about. A woman he had met only once.

"Ellen."

[Yes] The AI confirmed. [The emotional response she had for her children and her husband was… endearing. I did everything I could to stave off her shutdown] Was this a confession, or the cry of a synthetic soul? Did Sara know? [On her last day, I struggled to keep her lucid so that she could say her final goodbyes to Sara and Scott. She faced her shutdown with what organics call 'courage', fearing it yet keeping a brave face for her children. She told them how proud she was of them, smiled at them instead of crying. She wanted to cry at the time she would lose, but knew that her children needed that brave face. It was… it is a moment I cherish] That was an answer Garrus hadn't expected, and it implied a lot.

"We're much in the same way, in a variety of degrees, SAM." Vakarian replied softly. "We fear death, shutdown. We want to live. For some of us, that fear drives us toward courage, to pick up that armor and that firearm to fight it off not only for our own sakes, but for the sakes of others. Some might boast, some may speak of victories. This is a way to fight that fear, to prevent that shutdown. Some enjoy killing; thankfully, I am not one of those. But we do enjoy the fact that we can stop the inevitable, to thwart fate and death, to prevent the shutdown of others whom we are willing to risk our lives in order to protect. We may say 'kill', but what we really mean to say is 'I'm going to stop you so that many others may live, one death for dozens of lives more worthy'."

[Is there a difference in what you do compared to what I did for Ellen? Or what Sara does as a Corpsman?]

"Only logistically." The Detective admitted truthfully. "Physician such as Karin Chakwas swear upon a duty not to bring harm onto others, no matter who their are or any crimes they might have committed. While I might snarl as such, seeing a murderer healed while a victim dies, it is the moral thing to do. Organics know that they can go a Doctor or Barber-Surgeon regardless of class, rank, or standing in the meritocracy. For ones like Sara, Frontline Barber-Surgeons both heal and kill in the name of unit and species. Sara would protect a comrade, bringing them from harm, or even eliciting to be harmed herself instead of a comrade. She would also stop the threat, whomever the enemy may be at the time. Her training in the medical field means that she can heal wounds, giving an organic a second chance at life. While she cannot perform most surgeries, Sara can spare lives, much better than I ever could. I have some medical training in which I can aid, but it is limited to mostly physical means; stanching wounds, to stop bleeding, or convey a patient to someone better equipped and more knowledgeable than I, such as Ryder or Commander Chakwas. Yet my profession is to end the threat, preferably before a sapient becomes hurt. That line of understanding is a murky one; it is generally morals, ethics, and legality that guide us."

[With so many species, the definition seems chaotic]

"Oh, it is." Garrus replied as the OmniForge continued to work upon the components. "It is never a ready definition, and it can change with time, species, and even situations. Yet that is the power of goodness, in my mind; our strive to do better, to _be_ better. A lawbreaker does not fret over the necessities of procedures and definitions, the legality of a correct arrest or a well-done investigation. Their motivation is selfish, and their justifications personal. I do not kill out of a sense of satisfaction, though I do feel it is a job well done when I kill a criminal. I kill because it saves lives ultimately, as convoluted as that might sound."

[I believe I understand] The AI replied, its tone musing. [It is such as the difference between information and intelligence, knowledge and experience. Having one does not necessarily mean having the other. I have all the information at hand, but that does not mean I can necessarily draw the correct conclusions. Where as you, with less information, may in fact reach the right conclusions due to your experiences and knowledge, where as I would simply seek more data]

"It is a good parallel." The Turian nodded as he picked up the Karseus and removed the upper receiver and barrel. "I train and practice to make myself better so that others don't have to. I will face the threat and put my life in danger to save the lives of others, both friend and stranger. One day, I will fall… and another will likely take my place. Perhaps not as stylish as myself," the smirking mandible was perhaps lost on the AI, "but I don't fear that there are others who feel as I do; that _that_ line will be held and defended, the difference between civility and chaos. Captain Shepard and Chief Ryder make a great pair of examples. We all have our strengths and talents, and we use them to benefit others, even those we do not know."

[The components are finished, Detective]

"Record the changes. We'll be doing it to all the Alliance-oriented weaponry." Vakarian informed the AI as he removed the shaver and the generator from the Forge and inserted the barrel next. "We'll be coating this with a micrometer platinum alloy for better heat management and smoother flight to increase shots and accuracy, SAM."

[Acknowledged, Detective. And thank you for your conversation] The Turian had the sense that the AI had the answer it sought. [She still cares for you]

"I know." Garrus replied, knowing exactly who and what SAM was talking about. He didn't need an AI to tell him. "She… is happy. That is enough for me."

* * *

Auntie had set Liberty for the entirety of the ship that evening, announcing their ship-out date as the Fifth unless an emergency came up. Petty Officer Sara Ryder had suggested a ship gathering at one of better clubs at the Cit, suggesting Xotic in the Shalta/Aroch Arm. It was Night Cycle on the Cit, thought the Arms always had the lights on despite the cycle, and only a few crew members stayed with the Frigate-Class vessel as everyone else piled onto a CitTram to take the trek to the Outer Tract of the Shalta/Aroch Arm, in the Shoreside District of the Lower Wards. The idea of a mass gathering at a popular club before shipping out into the black had gone over well, a way to fraternize and let loose a little built-up heat/charge. Over fifty members of the _Normandy_ clambered onto a CitTram that would take them from the Kithoi Enders down the Arm, then around the Presidium Ring, and then up the Shalta/Aroch Arm to the Outer Tract, nearly the Shalta/Aroch Enders itself. For that many people, too many Citadel Public Transportation Vessels would have been too expensive to rent, and the trip by the tram was only over an hour. Sara had chirped a few friends on the Cit where she would be if they wished to visit her before she headed off, and was happy to see that both Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis confirmed that they would be there. Professor Irissa T'vara would be there as well, though the Matriarch said that she would be more interested in 'afterwards', giving Sara time to relax and enjoy her limited time off-duty.

Everyone filed out of the multi-car CitTram as Sara stepped off into the multi-species Shalta/Aroch Arm, where the Asari and Salarians had first landed upon the Citadel when they had discovered it, both naming the location in accordance to their respective species. When First Contact had occurred, Shalta/Aroch had been the first footsteps towards galactic cooperation, keeping both names and colonizing the Arm in a symbol of unity. It show prominently throughout the length of the S/A Arm, being the most diverse section of the Cit save for a few districts upon the Upper Ring of the Presidium, such as the Regency and Embassy Districts. A Salarian business could be found right next to a Turian one or an Elcor one easily in the S/A Arm, and the Outer Tract was more of a 'rough-and-tumble' lower-middle social class of workers and families, the sort of blue-collared sentients who could be found working at the Docks, manufacturing and minifacturing goods, making delivers for CitPS, or wearing C-SEC colors.

Xotic was popular as a multi-species club, offering music and drinks for just about every species in the known galaxy, boasting flavors for thirty-nine Homeworlds, a blended fusion of diversity to everyone's liking, or at least tolerance. Sara had picked it because it was an ultra-modern club that wouldn't even look twice at the sight of Humans, Turians, Salarians, Asari, Quarians, and Krogan coming together, and the atmosphere was one of pleasant enjoyment. It featured seven different dance floors on as many floors, ten separate bars, a bank of Augmented Reality arcade games, a stage for a live performance, and a small herd of Elcor Bull bouncers who could and would throw anybody out if they were up to no good, regardless of species. Sara had dressed appropriately, wearing a Presidium Toshe team jersey, with the number '32' on the back and the name 'Ryder' just above it; her twin brother's jersey, no less. It was a far cry from what she wore in her youth, a mix of Presidium Academy educational robes, a paramilitary-oriented EMT uniform, and the dresses and robes that one living on the Upper Ring were 'encouraged' to wear to stand above lesser mortals. Slumming it felt right as Sara looked over to Auntie, dressed in a black compression tank-top, a push-up bra, low-rider slacks, and eight centimeter heels, obviously going to live it up at a blue-collar club by flaunting it a little. And Sara had gone the homegirl routine, complete with an Armax Arsenal Arena League Human-oriented baseball cap worn backwards.

"Just don't Chirp me to hold your hand in the morning during your walk of shame if you wake up to something regrettable, Auntie." The Corpsman teased her Captain, the redhead making a rude noise as the Normandiers made their chaotic assault towards the Xotic's doors, party-goers interested in a little reverie. "Should I get pictures as evidence? Or did you forget to take off your chastity panties?"

"Go fuck yourself, kiddo." Jannie replied, unperturbed, making the Corpsman laugh. "And just so you know, black lace thong."

"Ah, someone's feeling adventurous!" Sara sing-songed as they approached the door, the music of the club already bleeding into the Cit boulevard as sapients came in from multiple directions. Sara could already hear the electronic pulse beat crawling out the doors.

"Ugh. Dubstep is for pussies." Jannie shook her head as Sara stood her tongue out at her Auntie as the haunting lyrics coming from an Asarikin came to them as the doors opened and holographic darklight streamers enveloped the air above them as they entered Xotic.

" _My body's telling me,  
_ _Not to go.  
_ _Your body's telling me,  
_ _Not to show._

 _Just wait and you will see,  
_ _I will come.  
_ _Just wait and you will see,  
_ _I will run._

 _I will run,  
I will run,  
I will run,  
I will run…_

 _I feel your sweat on me,  
_ _Hold me close.  
_ _I feel your sweat on me,  
_ _I'm exposed._

 _Sweet, are we now?  
_ _I will go.  
_ _Meet, will we now?  
_ _I will run._

 _I will run,  
I will run,  
I will run,  
I will run…"_

Sara was already beginning to get into the rhythm of the Asari dubfusion as she bumped her hip into Jannie's indicating the nearest dance floor. The redhead rolled her green eyes as Ryder pulled her towards the floor populated by at least half-a-dozen species, forcing her Auntie to join in. It was a struggle at first to get Shepard out of 'don't wanna' shell until Sara began dancing with her, trying not to laugh as Jannie did some sort of weird, awkward club shuffle (and failing, at that). She rescued her best friend from her own ineptness on the dance floor by spinning around and pressing herself against the taller redhead in an attempt to teach Jannie something considered rhythm and style. It took a moment, but soon Sara had her actually dancing decently with the music.

"You're a girl! How can you not dance?" The brunette teased over the music as Jannie rolled her eyes in response. Sara was dancing in front of her Auntie, crouching slightly while pumping her hips and holding her arms in the air in a grinding fashion while the redhead was stooped as low as she, their bodies practically touching as Jannie mimicked Sara's moves. "You'd think you'd have gotten better at this!"

"Gee, it's the one thing I can't do great!" Shepard retorted, sounding a little miffed.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, most of the guys are staring at us. About half the girls, too."

"My life is now complete." That had Sara cackling as she looked over to where the Normandiers were congregating, and saw something that she should have thought of before.

"I'll be right back." The Corpsman told the Captain as Sara worked her way off the dance floor and towards the ground floor bar, where she saw Marshal Samantha Collins haunting the vendor, pounding shots. Fuck, it had been less than a month since the Wrath of Glory's death, and Nihlus Kryik's widow was at a bar trying to eject her liver with booze. Ryder went to her rescue, pulling the soon-to-be-emptied shotglass away from Sam's mouth, drinking it herself and almost gagging at the taste of what had to be the most vile-tasting _s'kak_ she ever had. "Fuck!" Sara coughed hard, feeling tears exploding in her eyes and her stomach roiling hard enough that she thought she was about to puke on the spot. "What the hell was that, Marse?"

"Ryncol."

 _Oh… oh fuck, Sam…_ how long had this been going on?

"No." The former EMT-cum-Navy Corpsman put her food down figuratively and literally as she grabbed Collins' right wrist and pulled her away from the bar, thankfully strong and sober enough to drag the Marshal away. "If you're going to drink yourself into oblivion, you're going to do it with _friends_." She reached the first table she saw mostly occupied with Normandiers and practically tossed the Butcher into the lap of the first man she noticed… who happened to be Commander Mark Vanderloo, her ex-Uncle. Mark looked a little shocked to have a woman suddenly on his lap from out of nowhere, especially a woman with a Turians' colonial markings tattooed over her face. "She stays with friends, she leaves with friends." She told the _Normandy's_ Executive Officer while Collins just glowered at her. "Move her to something high in sodium, and make sure she passes out face down." Vanderloo took one look at the Marshal, who looked pissed as hell, but Ryder was having none of it as she bent over and got into Sam's face, reaching her hand behind Collins' head and touching foreheads with her; it was the Turian form of friendship and caring, known as 'pressing fringes'. The Petty Officers' blue eyes just stayed on Sam's, knowing the woman got it. "Doc will get you through this, Marse. Kicking and screaming, if necessary."

"Fine." There was no mistaking the aggressiveness in her tone, likely not wishing for some woman younger than she ruling over her. Yet the Marshal of Therum took a deep breath and closed her blue eyes and slipped her own hand behind Sara's head, returning the gesture as she left off an alcohol-tinted sigh. " _Gratis tibi_." Collins thanked softly in Common Cipritine, untranslated.

" _Non forsit."_ Sara replied in the same language, also untranslated. "See me tomorrow for hangover pills" The Corpsman let Sam Collins go, watching the Marshal slip into a chair beside Mark Vanderloo, looking as if she were going to stay there. The XO gave her a nod, indicating that he would keep an eye on the brunette as he tipped his head towards the dance floor, indicating for her to enjoy herself. Sara smiled as she turned back to enjoy the night, seeing Normandiers throughout Xotic, enjoying themselves. There was Doctor Liara T'soni sitting at a table with a wine glass, evidently holding a conversation with Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams. First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was dancing with Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele in a semi-platonic manner, while Private First Class Louis Broussard danced with Niki'Raan nar Tombay that was a lot more suggestive. Urdnot Wrex hung out by a bar, but he wasn't alone; four Asari Maidens, three Turian females, and a Human woman were absolutely riveted with whatever story he was telling, hanging off his every word. Sara snorted at that, seeing that at least one mid-stage Maiden and the Human woman were practically close enough for mating purposes in the gaggle of females.

Wrex, evidently, was a ladykiller.

Ryder spied Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis actually holding what appeared to be a drinking contest with Detective Garrus Vakarian, and Sara felt a stab in her heart at that. Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was rubbing up on a Human girl around his age, and seemingly hitting it off with her. Not-Dalatrass Zevin Raeka had somehow acquired no less than seven Salarian males to see to whatever needs she had, and the STG Agent didn't look too bothered by the fact. Chief Shayla Talis was at a table with a couple of the _Normandy's_ Bridge Crew, having what looked to be a serious discussion with both Commander Charles Pressley and First Lieutenant Gregory Adams. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was sipping her drink through a purification straw, having some girl talk with both Dravens, Rosamund and Talitha. There was Auntie talking to a guy (!), close enough to suggest perhaps her cabin on the Frigate would be lonely tonight… or have extra company. Sara saw all this and smiled, seeing _her_ crew having a good time. A pair of blue hands went around her waist as the Corpsman felt something gentle and warm hold her from behind as she smiled, knowing who it was.

"You have a good heart, Sara Elaine Ryder." Professor Irissa T'vara said softly to her ear, the Asari Matriarch embracing her as Sara let herself relax against the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies for the University of Serrice, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling. "I fear that there will be dark days coming for you, but for tonight? Tonight I wish to make it about you and you alone."

"How is it you always seem to know the right thing to say?" Sara snuggled closer into Irissa, her hands slipping onto T'vara's, turning her head slightly and resting it on the shoulder behind it, smiling. It felt as if she had hit the ground running since the Assault of Therum, only able to steal bits and pieces of comfort and relaxation if and when she could. Thankfully, she had Irissa, and the Professor was being patient and understanding concerning the situation. Sara was about to ship out, and she had someone to share her remaining time with. "One of the upper levels has a nicer dance floor meant to be more oriented towards couples. I'd like to do that with you."

"As would I, dear one." The Asarikin whispered in her ear, making Sara shiver slightly as she smiled, turning around to hold her meldmate close. She could care less who saw them or their assumptions. "We have so little time together, so let us make the most of it."

"Oh, I intend to." The Human Biotic replied with some sass, making the Asari chuckle in response as Sara held her closer, finding peace in Irissa's arms.

* * *

FINE: ARC IV: Center Of The Known Universe

* * *

 _ARC V: A Forest Of Spines_

 **EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 4, 2183**

"C-Captain Shepard?"

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stopped at the sound of her name coming from a man's voice, turning to see a Human gentleman in a well-to-do business robe standing near where the SSV _Normandy_ was berthed, his posture nervous and wringing his hands nervously. Everything about the man screamed 'something went wrong!' and 'help me!'. By the make of his robes, it was pretty obvious that he was a Cit Citizen, and knew the rules about the general public just… accosting SPECTREs. Yet she was the first of her kind, the only one of her kind. What use was it to being a SPECTRE if she couldn't bend an ear to help those in need? Yes, she already had a more-than-full plate thanks to that fucking Turian and his pet Geth, but sometimes situations like these added to the picture, not to the problems.

"Yessir?" Jannie stopped walking and moved towards the man, seeing him eye her, a mixture of nervousness and relief evident. Whatever it was, it scared him enough to approach a Council Agent despite the repercussions. Perhaps what he said would be worth it.

"I… I know the rules, but… I can't get any help!" The man began nervously, his skin flush, and Jannie noted the dark circles under his eyes. Whatever the trouble was, it was affecting him mentally enough to show physical signs. "The Navy's barricading our colonies, and I get that. The smaller fleets are sweeping our borders, and I get that, too. All I'm left are with mercs… and this isn't the kind of thing I want getting out in the public or being exploited. I need help, Agent Shepard, and… I need someone I know I can trust."

"Continue, sir. You have my attention." The Lion said simply, keeping her voice causal and light. Her first thought? Slavers.

"My name is Arnold Donald, Agent Shepard. Chief Executive Officer of the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation." That had Jannie pause.

"The Carnival Cruise Line?" Shepard did indeed know who this man was, at least introspectively. The Carnival Cruise Line was _the_ largest leisure travel company of Earth Alliance Space, offering trips on _Cruiser_ -Class-sized vessels geared towards hospitality, travel, leisure, and tourism. One saw their advertisements everywhere in Alliance Space, propos for colonization, space tours, tourist spots, and hops around interstellar vistas. This man was the one in charge of a corporation that held a great deal of sway in Earth Alliance Space. And he was here. Talking to her. Shit, he must have come to the Cit just on the hopes of getting her attention, waiting by the _Normandy_ to guarantee finding her.

Somewhere out in the black, something had undoubtedly went wrong. Very, very wrong.

"It's the _Horizon_ , ma'am. We lost contact a week ago." Mister Donald said, his voice quaking slightly. "My company isn't naive; we know that space can be dangerous. We fill our cruises with some of the wealthiest people in Earth Space, and we allay their concerns of security and protection more than adequately. Many of our staff are former Alliance Navy, our security former Marines and Army, and we make sure that our countermeasures are more than ready to deal with Batarian scum or anyone else seeking a profit from misery." Jannie nodded, knowing the spiel from the commercials she vaguely remember seeing on HV. "We have three forms of communications, Captain; standard ExtraNet Comms Buoy, tight-beam, and our own dedicated Comms Buoy launched in an undisclosed location if someone were to mask, hack, or destroy the Relay Buoy. Mindoir… Mindoir taught us that lesson all too well."

"You don't think it's slavers." Jannie felt her heart drop a little at that. No, not after that pitch. No slaver could attack fast enough to disable communications that quickly, not with a bunch of former Sailors and Marines who knew what to look for, not with that many systems in place. If they had lost contact… it would have to have been extraordinary, in other words.

"No, ma'am." Mister Donald wrangled his hands again, looking… defeated. "The _Horizon_ is our flagship, our top vessel. It was on a trip to the Armstrong Nebula, in the Gagarin System. There is some rogue planet in decaying orbit around a natural one, I… don't recall the name."

"I know of it." Rayingri? Something like that. There were thousands of planets or some other celestial classification in Earth Alliance Space. A planet about to be smashed into another certainly narrowed it down.

"Captain… the _Horizon_ is host to four _thousand_ souls." The older gentleman told her, his tone pleading… desperate. "Many of them are people with families with them on vacation, some of them are important to our government and our way of life. Those people? They are my responsibility; their safety and their safe return." The man took his job personally. "This isn't slavers or pirates looking for ransom. I fear worse."

"Geth." Jannie realized what had the man in a sweat. With the Alliance Navy all but tied to the immediate vicinity of the colonies as if they were the Colonial Air Force, the Geth could strike out at undefended passenger ships and merchants. They could drive Humanity into an enforced isolationism state and cut off their resources and any hope for help, cutting chunks off at a time. But the man was only thinking of the Geth. Jannie had a much different fear.

 _Husks._

* * *

Author's Note: All new original mission. All new original fear. All new original war. **Rated 'H' for Horror**. Srsly.

Some copyright shit.

Play That Funk Music (White Boy) by _Wild Cherry_ (my go-to in karaoke. Disco brings out the ladies)

Hooked On A Feeling by _Blue Suede_ (thank you, GOTG, for bringing this one back and killing the Ally McBeal baby)

I Will Run by _Sometime_ (The only thing out of Iceland besides Bjork and Icelandic Vodka)

Interspecies Copulation - Yes, the first portion was probably heading towards tastelessness. But Mass Effect _tried_ to make a big deal about the levo/dextro-chiliary thing (as far as I'm aware, this is the only sci-fi anything to bring up a different biological component). In Star Trek, Captain James Tiberius Kirk slept with alien girls left and right… and this was back in the _early_ 60's when interracial relationships were very frowned upon, unlike today in America and most of Western Civilization. ME even invented STD's (Scale Itch) but didn't really address fluid transfer much save for Mordin's Guide To Sex With Aliens.

LSAT - A real weapon lubricant that indeed means 'Lubricant Solvent, Arctic Temperature', and is called 'Monkey Cum'. It is used for the Mk-19 40mm Automatic Grenade Launcher, which non-military folk can see in Fallout: New Vegas (the 25mm AGL's icon is in fact a Mk-19); a Navy weapon for PT boats that the Army adopted for area-denial and MASCAL tactics.

Garrus is a Terraphile? I know I didn't exactly _spell_ it out, but it should be pretty obvious who the Human Female was.

More blatant foreshadowing of the Red Harvest. Because I'm going all out on brutality and viciousness with it as well as the upcoming ARC: A Forest Of Spines.

I quoted the new _Deadpool 2_ movie. Thanks, Thanos!

Xotic was actually a club I created for 'A Fox Amongst The Wolves', but never got to it. The concept of an actual multi-ethnic area instead of ethnic towns (like one sees in NYC and in most places in America, Chinatown, Little Italy and the like,) was a little fun to try, though I didn't delve hard into it. In my mind, sectors of the Cit would have been 'opened up' to species and endeavors instead of some conglomerated mess. Something kind of like SimCity, where having more residential areas conglomerated raises the possibilities and rates.

Shepard dancing: + 2 Snark

Making Wrex a ladykiller was actually kind of fun. He's only got a couple of centuries of stories to woo ladies with.


	21. A Forest Of Spines, I

_Anthem: Goodbye To Romance!_

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Mass Translation from Serpent Nebula to Exodus Cluster, In Route To Armstrong Nebula, July 4, 2183**

Author's Note: The fluff is out of the way. Now it's time for the horror. _The horror, the horror_.

Go grab your blankie. I'm going to make this hurt like I did in the "Revan" Arc in _Where The Law Stands Tall_. The lines that shouldn't be crossed will be stamped on as I hit upon several ideas that no sane person would ever want to face, and no publishing company would ever allow in a book. The safety protocols have been removed.

Ye hath been warned, gentle reader.

Because in space? No one can hear you scream.

And this chapter marks the quarter-million wordcount mark in essentially three months and two weeks.

And now back to your regularly-scheduled screams of denial and terror.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard stood in front of the holographic representation of the galaxy map in the Combat Information Center located in the center of the Bridge, standing at the Captain's Podium that let her see anything from a map of the Milky Way, any system she chose, the surrounding space around the SSV _Normandy_ , and the various telemetries, readings, and statuses of the _Normandy_ itself. It was finer than any she had ever seen on an Alliance vessel, a blending of both Human and Turian concepts and hybridized into something towards efficiency. At the moment, she was looking upon the route from the Serpent Nebula to the Exodus Cluster, the representing line of their travels crossing several clusters and Relays, having to translate no less than four times through the Mass Relay Network to reach their destination in the Rimward portion of the Attican Traverse. She winced at the digital holographic display of the estimated time of arrival; thirty-seven hours and twenty-nine minutes.

A day and a half when a ship hosting four thousand souls had gone silent seven days prior.

When Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder had Chirped Jannie during the Geth attack on Therum, the Lion had been full speed ahead, knowing that the attack was happening _at that moment_. Then? Every moment counted, and every second saved was the potential to save lives and thwart the enemy. Now, with the ACV _Horizon_ having gone silent for a week, there was no need to jump through burning hoops, so to speak. Whatever was to happen on the ship had likely already taken place. It was captured, destroyed, held hostage, or a dozen other bad scenarios, but a week was more than enough time for it to take place. The _Normandy_ wasn't going to take its time, not at all! No, Jannie was going to run the ship and its crew through the 'normal' paces; drills, scenario training, full briefs and FRAGOs, simulated training with the ground team, battle deployment marching orders and team compositions. Only the vessel would be working at 'normal' speed while what was _inside_ would be put through their paces to prepare for what Shepard suspected to be a shitstorm.

She expected them to arrive in the Gagarin System to find a small Geth Fleet and the remains of a Carrier-Class cruise ship spreading space debris.

"Ma'am," Commander Mark Vanderloo spoke up from his terminal, having already uploaded everything pertaining to the _Horizon_ with an access pass into the corporations' datasite itself. "I've got structural composition, vessel capabilities, and manifests for the latest cruise. Everything from tonnage to supplies, recent modifications, and even executive-level codes and passwords."

"Good." The redhead replied, knowing that Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation was playing ball. Their ship was silent, presumed missing/destroyed, and they weren't holding back. While Jannie didn't doubt the codes and passwords would be useless if the vessel had been under attack by the Geth and their ability to throw petaHertz of processing power into hacking anything and everything, it showed their level of cooperation. EACC wasn't fucking around when it came to their duty and responsibility for the people on their vessel. That kind of thinking had Jannie proud of the corporation, having seen the look of pleading upon the Chief Executive Officers' face, his words touching her. When he had said the word ' _responsibility_ ' , it hadn't been a bunch of letters strung together into something recognizable. He meant every syllable of it. Jannie believed him. "Download the contents into a datapad and I'll work out the OPORD and the FRAGOs for both Ops and TEAM LION. Maintain course and find ways to get _that_ ," she pointed at the countdown, "used as expeditiously as possible. I fully expect to land facefirst either into a Geth fuck-all Armada or a slaver fuckfest on the _Horizon_. Let's use that time as best we can to prepare ourselves for the worst, XO. I'll be in my Ready Room."

"WILCO, ma'am." Vanderloo saluted her quickly with his orders as Jannie stepped off the platform after Mark handed her a datapad with the tactical data she needed for the upcoming mission. Most of Humanity was under the impression that Special Forces warriors like N's or their predecessors, SEALs and British Commandos, would jump into a situation such as this and winged it. That shit perception was thanks to idiotic movies with brain-dead actors with magical aim and infinite ammo capacity. Shepard moved from the CIC to her Ready Room as she began reviewing the information before even entering, seeing the data package that had been sent to the _Normandy_. Mister Arnold Donald hadn't fucked around when he went to her for help, giving her everything she could possibly need to help the _Horizon_ and then some. The Office of Naval Intelligence had no further information (go figure), and Shepard pursed her lips at the sight that the Carnival CEO had called the Alliance Military with his concerns… and had basically been told to 'wait while the situation was assessed'. Nothing had been done, so he had taken a leap of faith, gone to the Citadel _knowing_ that the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE was there thanks to Khalisah Al-Jilani's interview, and had waited alongside the _Normandy_ to request her assistance knowing it was outside the chain-of-command and against regulations and rules. He had been desperate.

The Lion answered the call.

Jannie entered her Ready Room, placing the datapad near the intrinsic downloading/charging station set upon the wooden desk that dominated the Navy-heritage room as she queued up her personal terminal, a holographic screen popping over the desk as a holographic Haptic keyboard came up in a position best for optimal work and comfort. Seeing that data that Vanderloo had given her, she read over the information on the ACV _Horizon_ , looking at the graphical display of the Carrier-Class vessel, its seven-hundred meter length, two-hundred meter width, and one hundred-and-fifty meter height meaning that the vessel was going to be a nightmare to clear at twenty-one _million_ cubic meters. Thankfully, much of it was confined to either personal cabins, family cabins, and open bays for leisure, with corridors running though the ship in a straight forward bow-to-stern plan with little in the way of turns or choke points. Unfortunately, clearing all the rooms would be an exercise, and the crew decks at the lower two decks were less prosaic, a mess of connecting corridors, storage spaces, galleys, quarters, maintenance areas, and janitorial services. She was essentially going to have to clear a small town in space without the luxury of an open-air environment; a gigantic floating Urban Ops scenario known as Battle Drill Six. Army and Marine Infantry and N-Level Operatives trained hard on such tactics, not to mention C-SEC, Rapid Response Unit, and even the Quarian Pilgrims were given a basic idea of ship-clearing tactics. In terms of readiness, TEAM LION would perform well against a normal adversary, such as pirates or slavers.

Geth were another matter, but Jannie had prepared them for that, too.

The Captain outlined the basic OPORD and two FRAGOs quickly, filling in the broad outlines of what she wanted before calling up the Frigate's VI and requesting Lieutenant Alenko to come to her Ready Room. She downloaded her work onto a separate datapad while eying the holographic representation of the Carnival Carrier. Her minds were already formulating the training module that she was going to work upon for her ground team; a series of clearing ops and room breaches from personal cabins to gala-sized state rooms. The Cargo Bay would have to suffice for a large-scale room, raining her team how to coordinate clearing such a broad area with overlapping fields-of-fire, positions, defensive postures, and several scenarios based upon expected intelligence.

Janie was an N, and she was going to treat this like an N Operation.

The difference between Colonial Army and the Marine Corps from the N Combat Teams was that 'regular' troops had a series of Drills pertaining to situations, flexing them as needed. A defensive position could turn into a flanking maneuver given likely risks/rewards, an assault when a fortification weakened, a tactical retreat when opposition became too strong. The Infantry held the line through numbers and volumes of fire, drowning the enemy in rounds and common tactics.

Special Forces trained different. As elite warriors, they emphasized in exploitation tactics and pressure operations, doing with fewer numbers than an Infantry Company, and making up for that lack of personnel with highly-trained personnel. N's trained as much as a factor of four over their common Infantry brethren, hitting a range at a much more significant level, drilling scenarios until it was rote. During such an operation as this, a unit would go in with numbers, clearing rooms and large areas with attrition. For N's, they would _train_ for the mission beforehand, planning upon likely scenarios and formulating ideas for unlikely events. With fewer numbers, Special Forces had to make do with fewer rounds and pieces of equipment, so their weapons and supplies were of better quality as a response. They trained with such equipment as to not only to be deadly, but to be experts in their field. Jannie mentally reviewed the members into categories based upon capabilities of Special Forces.

Detective Garrus Vakarian was a great example of such, a Blackwatch Sniper with combat experience thanks to the First Contact War. Agent Zevin Raeka was technically a Special Forces Recon Scout, trained to go behind enemy lines to disrupt communications, logistical support, transportation, and troop movement with precise (and likely explosive) results, ensuring maximized casualties. Urdnot Wrex, while not to that degree, was an expert in his own right, having a long list of stunts and operations in which he faced overwhelming odds with cunning, proper planning, explosives, and heavy weaponry. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was almost at the necessary level for a N Medic, having trained herself personally to a point where the Villa would be a challenge, not a fools' chance. What she lacked was experience, but Therum showed that she certainly had the intelligence to adapt and overcome, as well as the skills to make that happen. Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams was good with weapons and common tactics, and perhaps she would make a good candidate herself, having experience at her side, as well as skills. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko would be a great N Combat Engineer, disabling and demolishing with ease, but lacked tactical finesse and the confidence to lead men in dire situations. Marshal Sam Collins was a cop through-and-through; tough as hell against common criminals and small groups. Thankfully, the Butcher actually had experience against overwhelming odds with the Miracle of Therum and the Assault of Torfan, going against a numerically-superior enemy and coming out with a bloody victory. The Quarian Pilgrims had some extra knowledge on their side, but their true talent laid in their Q-Tech weaponry and equipment, making up for their lack of experience and basic Migrant Fleet Marine training. The five Marines themselves were the atypical Marines; they were the bloody and bloodied Infantry that held the line and riddled the enemy with rounds. Finally there was Doctor Liara T'soni, the least qualified and experienced combatant they had. Her only strong point was her Biotics, in which hers were more dangerous than the rest of the Biotics combined.

"Ma'am? Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, reporting as ordered." The Explosive Ordinance Disposal Team Member saluted as he stood at attention in front of Jannie's desk after she had let him into her Ready Room. She told him to go 'at ease' and gestured towards the chair in front of her desk, in which the Lieutenant took.

"Here's the basic OPORD and FRAGOs for our upcoming mission on the _Horizon_ , along with intel, schematics, and the keys to the kingdom thanks to Carnival Corporation." Jannie handed of the datapad with the necessary downloads. "I want a full OPORD in three hours, and both FRAGOs two hours afterwards. I'm going to have Master Chief Gladstone get the Bosom's Mates to turn the Cargo Bay into a training exercise area, and we're going to spent several hours going over maneuvers, positions, drills, and scenarios. We'll kick off the summary brief after Mid-Watch Meal, and we'll practice until Late-Watch Meal. We'll pick up again before First Watch Meal, and then have the ground team hit the racks an hour before arriving in the Gagarin System. I imagine it might be several hours before we actually locate the _Horizon_ while in stealth in case this is the Geth, so I want them to maximize on sleep. Clearing a Carrier is going to take time, and we've only got sixteen."

"Understood, ma'am." Kaidan replied, nodding his head, but seemed to pause for something. "No offense, ma'am, but reinforcements?"

"I sent the request to Alliance Command. Haven't heard back yet." N's usually did without, going on missions knowing that likely there would be no provided assistance. Still, she wasn't about to endanger lives out of pride. "We plan as if we aren't getting any. I hope to have an NCT flex out our direction, or perhaps some Helljumpers. Navy's on picket duty, so…" That left a lot to be desired. No one had answered the call the first time Mister Donald had asked, and the Carnival Corporation wasn't small potatoes. "We use what we got and what we have. Unless the _Horizon_ is scuttled, we secure the vessel and clear out any hostiles. Bridge and core are the main priorities with rescue operations a second priority. Even if this is not the worst-case scenario, this will be a bad one, El-Tee."

"Yeah." The Combat Engineer replied, adjusting himself in the chair. "Why aren't we making the civilians the priority?" He had mentioned the same thing right before Eden Prime.

"First, they're likely dead or captured before we even arrive." Shepard explained, understanding the Biotic's concern. "Second, if that ship goes CritMass, everyone's dead regardless. Taking the Bridge gives us access, control, and a beachhead. The core gives us power and maneuverability, not to mention denial of any stupid motherfucker wishing to blow out an engine core and turning the next ten megameters into a small supernova." Jannie smiled, but there was no joy or warmth in it. "The hard lesson to learn, Lieutenant, is that we measure success and failure in lives lost, and civilians are _always_ in that tally no matter what you do. They're the ones who pay the price. _Always_." That was just a bad fact of war.

"It's just… I would think we would put more effort into their well-being and care." Kaidan summarized.

"We shall. By taking the ship's bridge and core." The redhead responded. Kaidan was a good Combat Engineer, but he was use to disable bombs (saving thousands of lives) or demolishing some structure that was no longer needed. Eden Prime had been his first real combat action. Navy EOD just didn't get sent into firefight, having an area or position held by ground forces when he was sent in. "Wasting a trained team member would could potentially save dozens, if not hundreds, over a simple firefight to pull just one man or a few? That's bad economics. If you're going to risk the life of an effective member, it needs to be for something worthy, like that Anti-Matter bomb on Eden Prime. Saving a civilian that will be a drain to supplies and personnel, dragging him through more potential firefights just to get him to safety? Losing more members securing an area that can be assaulted later on for its tactical hostage value, further whittling your team? The Bridge gives us control and access. The core gives us power and maneuverability. If need be, we'll pilot the _Horizon_ into Alliance Space and to the nearest colony with a Fleet over it to clear it properly and have the necessary medical personnel and supplies. We just don't have the manpower, equipment, or space."

"That's… cold." Alenko realized, looking rather dejected. Shepard knew it wasn't his fault; many Naval and Marine Officers wanted to do the 'heroic' thing. That generally got more people killed. Elysium had been that hard, bitter lesson for her.

"It'll be nine days since last communications when we arrive, Lieutenant." The SPECTRE replied, her voice hard. Even, but _hard_. "If the civilians have buttoned up and secured themselves, dragging them out endangers them. Taking the bridge and core is the logistical thing to do, as well as potentially saving more lives in the long run. We have sixteen men and a Carrier to secure; do the math." Kaidan sensed that he had overstepped his bounds, saying nothing else. "You have your orders, BeeDo. Get to it." An ice comet was warmer than her tone.

"Aye aye, ma'am." Alenko stood into perfect ramrod attention, saluting crisply before executing a proper right face and dismissing himself from the room. Jannie just clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and shook her head. She shouldn't have been so hard on him, a Naval Officer who wasn't Special Forces, who never had to deal with this kind of situation before.

It was her responsibility to teach him, train him, and guide him. She was the Commanding Officer of a vessel, and all Officers were under her command, as well as her guidance and tutelage. She knew that Commander Mark Vanderloo and Lieutenant Charles Pressley would understand her decisions; both Veterans of the Skyllian Blitz, both with actions concerning ship-boarding, if only on the Ops Alley end. Yet they knew the score; one didn't 'rescue' a ship by grabbing everyone out of it. No, secure the important parts and get it into friendly territory to deny it from the enemy, and maximize on friendly assets. Common Forces would waste lives trying to pull everyone out of a boat, potentially losing unit effectiveness and getting civilians potentially more injured or killed. Being told that she was being 'cold' had pissed her off, especially when her plan was developed _with_ civilian considerations in mind. What did Alenko expect? For TEAM LION to escort civilians back onto the _Normandy_? To have Frigate attached to a potentially-overrun vessel, risking boarding actions on a state-of-the-art Alliance vessel? No, her plan was the best because she knew better.

That's what N7's were trained to be; the very best.

* * *

TEAM LION assembled in the Cargo Bay of the SSV _Normandy_ for a pre-mission brief. TEAM LION was more-or-less allowed to stand or sit where they wanted, the brief a formal thing, but done informally. Auntie was like that. Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder sat on a small cargo container in the semi-circular formation where fifteen people of various species faced their Commanding Officer, the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE. They had spent almost two full weeks training together on the Arc to become more proficient, to work as a team, to royally fuck up the Geth and their asshole Turian master the next time the call came.

Sara had a pretty good idea that the OmniTool just rang, so to speak.

"Alright, folks, listen up!" Auntie spoke up, her voice strong and clear, holding everyone's attention easily as she stood in front of them, dressed in her Alliance Blues, standing in a manner that suggested suppressed aggression. The Corpsman knew that stance; someone was going to die courtesy of tech toys or a Saber round, and likely on fire, to boot. Auntie was pissed in a way that only an N7 could pull off; a monster caged, held in check until ready to be unleashed. And hell would follow, then. "Right before we departed the Cit," Auntie began, "I was approached by a gentleman by the name of Arnold Donald. He is the Chief Executive Officer of the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation." _Oh… oh shit._ Sara had a bad feeling about this, easily recognizing the name. "For those of you who don't recognize the name, the Carnival Cruise Line is the _premiere_ Human cruise line, with fifteen luxury cruise ships that float passengers to scenic space vistas and pretty planets for vacations and whatnot. They're expensive, have a great rep, and their CEO went to the Cit and stood by the _Normandy_ to meet yours truly to ask for help."

"Fuck." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams intoned, the Colonial Soldiers' voice dark. Requesting aid from a SPECTRE usually meant something went horribly, horribly wrong somewhere. Especially since the general public generally wasn't allowed to accost a Council Agent at all. Mister Donald risked potential imprisonment for something he felt that important.

"The ACV _Horizon_ has been out of contact for a week."

"Oh shit, that's their largest ship." Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard popped up, leaning against the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Shuttle they had gotten from the Arc, sequestered on the opposite side of the cargo bay from the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle.

"That's correct, Marine." Jannie nodded, looking to everyone. "I pulled up everything as well as information that Mister Donald gave me pertaining to the _Horizon_ ; it's route, destination, crew compliment, passenger manifest, defenses, communication protocols… the works. Carnival isn't stupid; their reputation is built on the fact that you can take a luxury cruise in Alliance Space or the Attican Traverse and come back safely. The crew is all former Sailors, security is former Marines and Master-at-Arms, they have three separate forms of communications to include a dedicated deployable comms buoy, and even a shark."

" _Shark?"_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya asked, raising a polite three-fingered hand, her purpled visor looking around.

"It's a _Corvette_ -Class missile boat that trails for defense in case slavers, pirates, kidnappers, or anyone else wishes to try to take a bite." Sara replied, looking to the suited Quarian, who nodded her head, understanding the concept if not the aquatic animal. "It's usually within an AU of the cruise, and can also call for help as well as defend the boat in question. Half the reason Carnival is so popular in the tourist trade is because they take security and defense so professionally. Remember that incident back during the Blitz?" That question was aimed at Auntie.

"Was the Carnival _Disney_ not the one that aerosailed a gas giant?" Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian asked. There had been a situation when a cruise had to perform an emergency maneuver known as 'aerosailing'; it had entered a planetary stratosphere to prevent unwanted docking procedures.

"Yes, it was. To prevent Batarian slavers from docking with the ship." Auntie supplied with a nod of her head. "Not one Carnival ship has ever lost a person. Not even from natural causes, having a professional medical staff on every ship. So when one of their ships goes missing for a week…"

"… _Geth."_ That was Niki'Raan nar Tombay, the Migrant Fleet Marine-hopeful filling in what everyone else was thinking. _"That many lines of communications without a distress call? Even its own dedicated comms buoy? That requires sophisticated hacking. A boarding attempt wouldn't silence all of that in time."_ MFM's were evidently premiere ship-boarders, according to the Quarians. As Sara understood it, even Garrus gave credence to that belief. _"They would have had to hack the communications of three separate objects to complete that phase; the_ Horizon _, the 'shark', and then the systems comm buoy. And that's just the minimum. How the Geth could get close enough without raising an alarm or someone sending something resembling some sort of notification? If they're not using stealth…"_

"Trojan Horse." Ryder interrupted, looking to Auntie. "If they can hack our communications, then all they need is a look-alike vessel. Perhaps one that looks Navy; Carnival wouldn't question that."

"That would make sense. Scary thought." Auntie wasn't pleased with that line of thought. "Gets within range of both vessels, takes down their communications, and gives them boarding access. Classic Trojan Horse. For now, what we know is that the last reported position of the _Horizon_ was in the Gagarin System of the Armstrong Nebula. Tour was give a great view of Rayingri, a planet that's going to get cracked by a rogue planet in a couple of centuries. We don't know if it's still in-system or not, so we'll be running silent in the Gagarin System while searching for the _Horizon_ , the shark, or anything else that might be considered an anomaly. We got some of the best sensors the Alliance can buy or make, but searching a system takes time. And it's already going to take us nearly forty hours just to arrive at the Gagarin Relay before the search even commences. When we reach the _Horizon_ , it might be as long as ten days since incident to response."

None of the Humans needed a reminder that ten days was the length of time for someone to reach the colonial city of Mindoir on Amarestu in response to its belated distress signal.

"Now," Auntie continued, "I've downloaded the schematics of the ship onto your personal datapads for reviews. But those are just wireframe diagrams." The redhead smiled. "We just so happen to have someone who's _been_ on the _Horizon_ to give us a brief. Sara?"

"Dammit." The Petty Officer _knew_ this would come up. "Auntie, that was ten years ago. This isn't exactly its inaugural flight. Things could have changed since then."

"Wait… you were on the _Horizon's_ inaugural flight?" Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams asked around her lit cigar, her tone surprised. Brassiere whistled appreciatively. "Damn. Aren't coach tickets like… ten kiloCredits each?"

"Yeah." Sara knew where this was going to go. "My mother was the premier Biotic researcher, creating the Biotics Research Division after First Contact. She spearheaded the first Biotic apparatuses, implants, and amplifiers. She's responsible for the L1 and L3 Implant, as well as the Bastion Biotic Amplifier produced by Conatix Industries. And then Dad was the Pathfinder, first man to walk on an extrasolar planet on the _Excelsior_ Expedition for the Charon Mission."

"So… you're rich?" 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko asked, uncertain.

"I did go the the premiere school in the galaxy for five years. There aren't exactly scholarships for the Presidium Academy." The Corpsman replied. This conversation she could do without. For some reason, people assumed that the rich were suppose to be snobby, spoiled sycophants. "Anyhow, the _Horizon_ is a _Carrier_ -Class vessel designed as a luxury tourist transport. It has six full decks and four half-decks, two at the top and two at the bottom.

"The bottom two full decks are coach accommodations." Ryder continued, describing the vessel she had been on when she was ten. "The upper two full decks are designed for the higher-end passengers, along with a full-service Galley that's rated as a five-star restaurant. The two upper half-decks are activity decks, with pools, courts, and even a casino. The lower two half-decks are mostly for the permanent crew, supply and storage, culinary, crew quarters and the like. The bridge is in the bow…" Sara was trying to remember the details of the ship, and not the details of her trip. "It's got full service aid stations, former Navy and Marines for crew, surveillance, code-locks for guest quarters, a zero-g court, Kiggs fields for the open quarter deck on Deck Three for celestial observations along with a pool, full service bars, and enough hospitality staff that makes up for like ten percent of the passengers in population. The _Horizon_ can accommodate… forty-five hundred? Maybe more." Ryder shrugged her shoulders. "I saw the Bridge once. Fifteen people at any given time, all former Ops Deck Sailors; astronavigation, telemetry assessors, LADAR specialists, communication specialists, two Helmsmen, and an Officer-in-Charge at all times. There's a security station, too, ran by a former Marine Sergeant Major. I think there were about a hundred Incident Response Personnel for that tour, which might be less now. But you're still looking at dozens and dozens of former Marines and Army who are all trained in basic first aid, fire arms, general tactics, and crisis management."

"The _Horizon_ is a Carrier-Class vessel." Auntie picked up where Sara ended. "We're talking twenty-one _million_ cubic meters of interior. Realistically, we'll never clear it with sixteen people. Our primary objective is two-fold; to insert the vessel by means of an improvised entry point through demolitions to gain entry and control of the _Horizons'_ Bridge. A small team will be left on the bridge to control access and monitor security feeds while initiating a vessel-wide lockdown, scrambling access codes and giving us executive-level control. With that objective achieved, the rest of the team will infiltrate the _Horizon_ to gain control of the vessel's engine room, engaging any hostiles that might be on our way to the core. With the bridge and the core secured, we will initiate retrieval operations and take the _Horizon_ out-of-system and towards the nearest Alliance colony that has a Fleet available for rescue and medical operations. We don't have the personnel, resources, or space to rescue civilians at this time, so we get the _Horizon_ to a friendly location where we have numbers and safety on our side."

"So the civilians…?" Doctor Liara T'soni asked, looked a little dubious. "We are closing the doors and leaving them be?"

"It keeps them safe if they're still alive." Marshal Samantha Collins replied, her arms folded across her chest, looking to the Asari Protheantologist. "It denies the enemy the ability to move or gathering forces, and it keeps people from wandering into firefights. It's the best-case option in a scenario such as this. If they've survived this long, a few more hours locked in their rooms won't make a difference as oppose to pulling them through hostile territory where they can get shot."

"I see. Thank you, Marshal." Ryder understood why that particular plan. It wasn't a fun one to exercise, but it was the best one with the best options to engage the enemy and protect the innocent. Yes, she _wanted_ to pull people out and get them out of danger, but that wasn't realistic. She could end up with hundreds of patients, and there were only three Health Care Providers and a Surgeon on the _Normandy_. As well as their finite medical supplies. Sam's explanation had everyone in understanding of the plan and reason behind it. "I understand what to do if there is an enemy to engage, but what do you wish us to do if there are persons in an unsecured area?"

"With control of the bridge, we can put them into the nearest safe location and lock the door behind them to maximize our assets while keeping them protected." The Captain answered, pleased with the question. It was a good one for someone with no military experience, and likely would have been brought up later on. "Tali'Zorah? Since you are our dataware specialist, you will be in charge of the Bridge Team. I will flex two Security team members to keep the bridge locked down while you control the vessels' access and security, feeding us updates and monitoring feeds. When we gain control of the engine room, I will send several members back to the Bridge to hold it down, keeping one-half of the team on the bridge, and the other half in the engine room. Unless someone has managed to smuggle in a bomb that can crack a ship that size in half, we do _not_ flex out for anything. I know that you are concerned for the people on the vessel, which is a good thing. But we can't afford to lose members of this team over a hostage or terrorist scenario with little in the way of gain, and we certainly cannot afford to have the ship return to the hands of the enemy.

"Make no mistake; this will likely be a ghost ship with hundreds if not _thousands_ of casualties or the fettered, and we might likely have to watch people die returning the _Horizon_ back into Alliance Space." The Lion pointed out for all their sakes.

"Any questions?"

* * *

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Gagarin System, Armstrong Nebula, July 5, 2183**

" _All hands_ ," the SSV _Normandy's_ ship-wide VI broadcaster called out, _"now arriving in Gagarin System heliosphere. Ship Status is set at DEFCON TWO. All active Watches, please attire into REDCON FOUR status. All off-duty Watches, please assemble into assign quarters and initiate pressurization procedures. Captain Shepard, please report to the Bridge."_

Captain Jane Shepard arrived on the Bridge of the _Normandy_ a few minutes later after fully suiting up in her brand-new HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, sealed in its environment as she entered the CIC, a Petty Officer standing Watch bellowing out _Captain on Deck!_ Everyone went to the position of attention for a fraction of a second before returning to their duties, whether sitting or standing, and Commander Mark Vanderloo looked from his position at the Captain's Podium where he was monitoring everything, seeing his ex-wife in a SPECTRE's armor, and he had to admit that his breath caught in his throat at the sight. He wasn't the only one looking, seeing helmeted heads turning slightly to see the sight of a _Human_ SPECTRE, fully-geared and upon the deck. The Armor was, for the most part, the exact replica of what a SPECTRE's Armor _should_ look like, seen thanks to movies featuring SPECTREs as protagonists, such as _Blasto! The Hanar SPECTRE_ or _An Act Of Valor_. There were a few modifications to it that Mark could see, though thankfully Jane hadn't decided to make her SPECTRE Armor look like… the _Predator_ or something else cheesy. Yet despite its unique color scheme of reflective ultrablack with deep maroon blood-red underpanelling, she had modified it from what he had seen on vids and the news. The helmet was different, there were physical additions to the ribs and torso for more protection, like thin metal bars. Actually, they were on the arms and thighs as well. And the helmet.

Waitaminute… he _recognized_ it. It looked like a RIG suit!

" _Dead Space_?" Vanderloo asked as Shepard stood on the podium alongside him, looking at the holographic images that were in front of him, the trigraphic imagery displaying the Gagarin System, the approximate locations of the planets and objects known for the system, and the beginnings of sensor readouts in real-time. One of Jane's first modified armors when she became an N was based upon an old Sci-Fi/Horror video game where the protagonist was an engineer. Actually, he came to actually look at it, and he had to admit that… it looked more like Jane had selected it due to protective concepts. She had blended her love for cosplay with reality and made something realistic.

The faceplate of the helmet had metal shields with only thin horizontal gaps in between, in which she could switch from an Augmented Reality Overlay, an Augmented Reality View while completely covering the transparent viewer, or just the plain Mark One eyeball while keeping her face and visor more protected. He wasn't really surprised to see that there was, in fact, an on-board terminal that stuck out slightly from the chestplate of the armor, centered above the breastbone, just like the game. Knowing Jane, it likely linked to her drones, Ghost and Bastila. Hardened plates and strips had been added to the chestpiece and back, and along the outer upper arms, ribcage, and upper thighs. He briefly wondered if there were four 'lights' on the back to indicate power status that had been meant for the player to know how much life… Issac Clarke had. Mark looked… yep, there they were, though they looked to be Universal Power Cells connected in tandem along the spine. Extra power requirements, or extra juice when needed?

" _You know me too well."_ The Captain said, turning her helmeted head to him as she stood by his side, letting him work as she observed. _"Bring me up to speed, XO."_ Jane had been sleeping during the translation from the Attican Beta Cluster to the Armstrong Nebula, using the almost two-and-a-half hour translation and the hour FTL burn from the Tereshkova System to the Gagarin System to get some shuteye before things came to a head. Just because N's were _trained_ to do without a full-night's rest didn't mean they forewent without sleep unnecessarily.

"Moreau has slipped us into Gagarin's heliosphere, and we are now coasting at Mark Nine with Internal Heat Sinks active and all systems running at full passive." Vanderloo indicated, pointing out the ships' position relative to the Gagarin System. "Lieutenant Yevseyenkov has dropped off a passive Comms Buoy just on this side of the Heliopause, releasing it instead of firing it. I don't know if we're looking at Geth or not, so I decided to act as if we were." That had the Captain nodding. "Since we don't actually know their capabilities, I'm limiting our functionalities towards stealth and as much pre-tech concepts as possible. Launches using air pressure instead of electromagnetic rails, analog scans and readings to collate with digital and optronic, and visual lensing in case they have something similar in concept to a stealth vessel."

" _Their ships would run less hot, not needing so many life support systems."_ Shepard concluded, obviously seeing what Mark was alluding to. He might have been a better Ops Alley Officer than Jane was due to his experience and time working deck and bridge, but Jane Shepard was fully trained-and-capable in her own right, and nobody's fool. She had selected him to be her XO because she knew how skilled he was. It took a degree of intelligence and commitment to admit that someone was better than once self and _allowing_ them to perform to that capability. The N7 knew that the _Normandy_ was going to be at the very front of risk and danger, and had ignored pride for the sake of duty and accomplishment when picking the best for the Frigate, and then making sure that they would be as well-trained as possible. It hadn't been just words. _"How long until we get a full map of the system?"_

"With light-lag and staying in position? Almost a full day." The Commander replied, distance still being the bar for all things astronautical. Despite being able to travel at faster-than-light speeds, all sensors worked at lightspeed only… and light only traveled so fast. While a ship _could_ travel FTL inside a system, it was incredibly stupid to do so. One could plow into debris, space junk, a damaged vessel, or even a comet blindly if one didn't map and update a systems' current telemetry. The _Normandy_ was currently drifting at Mark Nine; ninety percent lightspeed. Even at that velocity, traversing a quarter of the system would still take a portion of the day. "We're aimed for Rayingri/Vahtz Space, and we have several sensors and sweeps pointed in that direction for advanced warning. Since it's been more than a week since last contact with the _Horizon_ , and its exact location wasn't known for ten hours before Carnival declared it lost, it could literally be anywhere in the system. Or even out of it."

" _So we start with the obvious possible location and work our way from there."_ The N7 nodded, understanding the plan. _"Be double-safe when we enter into Rayingri space, XO. I don't doubt that debris, atmospherics, and whatever else is happening between those two planets is going to scramble our sensors. A perfect trap for pirates, slavers, and Geth."_ To that, Mark had nothing to add. Jane was right, after all. She toggled the 1MC after entering her passcode on the podium to open up the address channel. _"All members of TEAM LION, report to State Room for pre-mission meal and brief."_ Shepard closed the Number One Main Circuit and looked to him. _"How long until we start getting semi-accurate readings from Rayingri?"_

"Four hours until we get within an AU of the planet." Vanderloo answered. "We'll start picking up ghost readings and anomalous signals about an hour prior."

" _Let me know when that happens."_ The CO ordered as she turned from the podium, letting her ex-husband do his job as she left the Bridge. He turned his attention back to the podium, where the _Normandy_ was shown holographically in relation to the Gagarin System. Mark had been reviewing everything that he knew about the potential enemy, the details of the _Horizon_ , all information about the Gagarin System itself, and the capabilities of the SSV _Normandy_. Frigates usually boasted some of the best sensors and scanners in the Alliance, the normal forces used to flush out an enemy. In a Fleet, there would be four squadrons of four Frigates, known as Wolf Packs, spreading out through the system to fill in the gaps and detect as many anomalies as quickly as they could. There were always 'hiding places' in a system; LaGrange points, moons, asteroids, comets, debris, natural gravitational distortions, Oort Clouds, and odd occurrences that were so normal in space.

"Lieutenant Yevseyenkov? I want our primary focus to be high-gain radiation scans, thermalization scans, and radio telemetry." Commander Vanderloo told his subordinate, First Lieutenant Nicolai Yevseyenkov, the _Normandy's_ Ops Chief. It was his job to make sure that telemetry data and scans were as thorough as possible, and he was to inspect any 'hit' along with the technician to determine if it were an accurate hit or just echoes or ghost findings that were so common.

The issue, of course, was _time_.

The best sensors in any fleet worked on the principle of light; one could only _receive_ data at the speed of light. Yes, communications could be _sent_ at faster-than-light thanks to the Li-Fi Network of Comms Buoys; a Salarian invention some few centuries before. But readings came in real-time.

And space was huge.

Humanity worked off the principle of the AU; the Astronomical Unit. It was the distance from Sol to Earth, set at one-hundred and fifty million kilometers, in which light crossed in eight minutes and twenty seconds. If something happened an AU away from the _Normandy_ , it would take them over eight minutes to realize it if the vessel were holding positions. Sooner if they were heading towards that direction, and never if they were heading away from it. Frigates, as the main reconnaissance and detection unit of a Naval Fleet, had the best sensors and best options for 'long-range' scanning at one point five AU's, meaning that they could verify accuracy at ninety-five percent of a scan or a reading at two hundred and twenty-five kilometers… on a reading twelve and a half minutes old.

Despite the vastness of space, the best option for anything Naval was to get _closer_.

"Commander Pressley? I want to plot a course for the maelstrom line in between Rayingri and Vahtz." Vanderloo continued, seeing the holographic representation of both planets. A tag indicated that the distance between both planets was no less than a hundred thousand kilometers, a forth of the distance between Terra and Luna. "It's the best hiding spot for both ourselves and enemy forces. That wake will play havoc with our sensors, so I want visual scans of the terminator line where their atmospheres are rubbing."

" _What distance are we talking about?"_ Pressley asked, his helmeted head looking towards Mark. His own prevented Charles from seeing his smile.

"We're going to 'Round the Horn', Navigation." That had all four heads at Tac Alley in CIC look up at the XO at his order. "Plot course for the depths and passage through the other side."

" _Our pilot is just going to_ love _this_." The Navigator groused through his suits' vox, already working through the math of the known telemetry of the terminator line of Rayingri/Vahtz. _"Fifty Creds say at least half the Ops Alley fills their helmets with puke."_

"Two-thirds. Plus all of the Weapons Division." There was an audible snort from Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele, the Weapons Chief looking to her counterpart, Chief Petty Officer Robert Felawa.

" _You puke in your helmet, you're cleaning it with your tongue."_ Steele told her subordinate. _"XO needs to pay for fleecing us for guessing the Butcher."_

* * *

 **The Horn, July 5, 2183**

" _Captain, we've entered the Horn. ETA is ten mikes."_ Commander Mark Vanderloo's voice came over the PA in the _Normandy's_ Cargo Bay. The announcement was unnecessary as the Frigate shook and shimmied in chop of the narrow corridor that separated Rayingri from Vahtz, a corridor that was nine hundred and eight kilometers wide… and only a kilometer deep. Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams had just been briefed that the Bridge crew had found the ACV _Horizon_ in the terminator line, a Carrier vessel skirting between two planets, hovering in the deadly pull of two gravitational sources threatening to pull it to the depths of _two_ planets that would cause it to have what the Navy liked to call 'uncontrolled descent maneuvers' and everyone else with a brain called 'crash landing'. Even the Colonial Soldier knew a Carrier couldn't pull out of a gravity well once too far it; too much mass. The fact that the Cruise was sitting in such a precarious position did not bode well. A particularly large shift in the ship to the left/port had everyone in the Cargo Bay jerk and attempt to keep to their feet. A couple of the Marines and Doctor Liara T'soni lost that battle, going to the deck.

" _Acknowledged, XO."_ The Skipper replied out loud, her armored visor looking up to the ceiling where the PA was situated, and then back to TEAM LION. _"Chief Holloway! Ready shuttle and disembark when we get close."_ Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway, the _Normandy's_ lone Colonial Air Force member and Personal Vehicle Pilot, nodded as the woman dressed in Aldrin Labs' Onyx Medium Armor boarded the UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel " _Rey Kenobi_ ". Why the Skipper felt the need to name the shuttle after the female protagonist of the third _Star Wars_ Trilogy, Ash had no idea. No, wait… Captain Shepard was a nerd. That was it. Well, it wasn't like Williams hadn't named her Kassa Fabrications' M76 Reverent Light Machine Gun 'Puff the Magic Dragon' because it sounded awesome. Everyone had their thing. It was only weird if it didn't work.

" _Army."_ Ash looked to the Skipper, decked out in her brand-new (and awesome-looking!) SPECTRE Armor, looking like a SPECTRE should; that they ate this kind of shit for breakfast. _"I need you to take this medium sustainment bag and haul it for the mission. It's a SAM Node."_

"Okay. Got it." Williams grabbed the hardcase sustainment bag and magnetically locked it on her back after moving her Kassa Fabrications' M-92 Mantis Platform that Detective Garrus Vakarian had bored out and pimped out. Before, it had been a nail driver. But after an hour or so on the _Normandy's_ mock weapons range in the Cargo Bay, Ash had been pleasantly impressed to see that it was now twenty percent more powerful without risking damaging the shaver or the heatsink. She might not like Turians, but the RRU Sniper had earned himself an exception in her book. He had agreed to teaching her a little more on modding weapons to expand her own knowledge and abilities, and she was no slouch herself. Ash wasn't sure what a SAM Node was, but by the name, she guessed that she had just become the Radioman. Well, ' _shoot, move, and communicate_ ' was more than just an Army cadence, after all. She replaced the Mantis on her back, attaching it to a magnetic hardpoint on the side of the sustainment bag. "I'm the walkie-talkie?"

" _It's a portable Quantum Entanglement Device that'll keep us in communique without fear of hacking, jamming, or being listened into. It's ten megaCredits."_ That had Ash almost drop her Reverent. She was carrying a ten _million_ Credit device on her back! _"That's why you instead of one of the Marines."_ The Skipper told her, obviously sensing her facial reaction without being able to see it through her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Combat Armor's helmet, where only a thin band for the visor for her eyes could be seen. Ash _somewhat_ knew what Quantum Entanglement meant; a Quantum polycule had been crafted and divided to ensure seamless communications between two points… regardless of distance. She didn't know the mechanics of it, but just suspected it was a goodie that the Lion picked up from the SPECTRE Home Office. She could see the others going through Pre-Combat Inspections and Pre-Combat Checks, having already done so twenty minutes prior but just doing last-minute checks.

Ash noted that Petty Officer Sara Ryder had a large sustainment hardcase bag on her back, obviously the AidBag, with several attachments on the side and on her own typical-looking SPECTRE Armor. The attachments were color-coded for other species' medical paraphernalia based on blood color; cobalt for Turians, indigo for Quarians, lime for Salarians, orange for Krogan, and lavender for Asari. The Corpsman was going without builds and packages for her weapons and armor in lieu of having more medical supplies for TEAM LION. Well, Medics were armed as a necessity, not as a means for them to get into the fight. Still, she had that personally-crafted M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon attached to her chestplate, the Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver on her left hip, and a HMWSM MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Submachine Gun on her right. She could slug it out if she needed to, being a SPECTRE's Second.

Marshal Samantha Collins was decked out in HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor like Sara was, though her weapons were different. Her primary weapon was a Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Assault Rifle, a fairly-standard lethal armament for Law Enforcement personnel. She also had a pair of pistols on each hip; one being her own infamous Smith and Wesson Model 696 that she absconded from her traitorous boss, Marshal Bart Weathers, the Frontier Marshal of Therum before her, and the other being a Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Combat Pistol. As Ash understood it, Sam Collins had never actually worn SPECTRE Armor before, due to the fact that she was pretty much an undercover SPECTRE. That explained the Human-manufactured weapons instead of ones from the Office of Special Tactics. Still, the Marshal had a HMWSG MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Shotgun clipped behind her hips, and a HMWSM Submachine Gun attached just forward of her left hip. The only nod to her identity was the Silver Star over her heart, the six-pointed badge of a Federal Marshal. Well, Sara had the Blue Cross with the Rod of Asclepius inside of it; the symbol of the Human Emergency Medical Technician over her heart. Just like the Skipper had the 'N7' designation over her heart as well.

Ash double-checked her weapons and her packages and builds, having opted to taking an Ammo Mod package in case they were facing either pirates or Geth, and then another for what she had tricked out her Reverent with by adding a small portable bottle of Liquid Helium that could be inserted alongside the upper receiver. The idea was that she could max out how many rounds she could fire between cooldowns and even up her rate-of-fire with the Heavy Machine Gun by having a system where microbursts of refrigerated coolant were spurted into the weapons' cyclic system to keep the heat down and let the weapons' software suite overclock without damaging the weapon. She called it 'Overkill' as a joke. She saw everyone else doing the same, going over their weapons and builds, making sure that everything was in order and fully accessible.

" _ETA to SP, sixty seconds."_ Vanderloo's voice came up on the PA again.

" _Saddle up, folks!"_ The Skipper announced as she spun her left forefinger in the air in a hand-and-arm signal meaning to round up. The sixteen members of TEAM LION boarded the shuttle meant for fifteen, being a bit of a tight fit considering how big Urdnot Wrex was. Still, they made it work as the Skipper went into the co-pilots' seat of the _Rey Kenobi_ and everyone else secured themselves into a deployment seat as a klaxon alarm wailed in the Cargo Bay, indicating that the deployment door to the _Normandy_ was opening. A Kiggs atmospheric barrier kept the air in as Ash stood stag in the middle of the shuttle, opting to be the lone man out without a seat as she grabbed onto an 'Oh Shit' bar installed on the ceiling of the shuttle, bending down to see through the cockpit windows of the UT-47, seeing _space_ in front of them. Well, not really.

She was looking at hell.

"Holy fuck, we're flying through that?" Williams gawked as the _Normandy_ took a particularly hard hit to the right/starboard, damn near throwing her into Niki'Raan nar Tombay's lap, the 'Oh Shit' bar saving her from getting too cuddly with the Quarian Pilgrim in the blue-and-white EnviroSuit. Her attention was still upon what she was seeing, where a planetary game of tug-of-war was going on right in front of her. The atmospheres of Rayingri and Vahtz were at war with one another, broiling and on fire, two different atmospheric pressures and compositions fighting for dominance in a pre-apocalyptic battle. Ash had heard of the sky being on fire as a reference to sunsets and volcanic explosions, but nothing matched the fact that there was something like a _billion_ cubic meter Class Fifteen hurricane burning in front of them as an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere fought against a nitrogen-argon one. It looked like they were about to fly into a constantly detonating explosion.

" _Temperature's rated at ninety-four degrees Celsius, Army."_ The Skipper informed her from the co-pilot's seat, looking ahead. _"Not even hot enough to make soup. Shields and hull can take it easily, as can our suits. Be glad we got good MagLoc Boots."_

"Yeah, I heard that." The UT-47 powered up and hovered over the Cargo Bay's deck as Chief Holloway flew them into the storm of fire, the _Rey_ shaking and jostling as it flew forward into the maelstrom. How the hell the Chief even knew where to go was beyond her, probably electronic telemetry waypoints on the navigation systems of the Utility Transport Vessel as it was buffeted port and starboard, bouncing and quaking with the force. Williams grabbed the 'Oh Shit' bar tighter as they traveled the ten kilometer distance to the ACV _Horizon_. How anyone spotted it in this burning mess was beyond her. She couldn't even see it, and she was looking out a window!

" _Vector set, on approach to Deck One hull."_ The Air Force Warrant Officer called out, her voice announcing though her suits' vox. _"Ship's still got juice. Don't know if it's on autopilot or a VI is making auto-corrections, but it's keeping to well enough for a hull clamp, Captain."_

" _Set the_ Rey _just behind the Bridge, Chief."_ The Level Three SPECTRE informed the shuttle pilot, the Kodiak taking a few shifts and bangs through the fiery atmosphere before…

…holy fuck, there it was.

The Colonial Sergeant had never really seen many Naval vessels up close before. Yes, she had seen ones docked on the Arc, but the bigger ones had been docked in the Arc Shipyards. The same was true for the Cit, where only Fourth-Rate vessels and lower could dock with the station, others having to launch shuttles and pinnacles to gain access. Seeing a seven-hundred and twenty-three meter vessel right in front of her eyes, less than a kilometer away? Ash was shocked with how _big_ it was. Carriers were really just shy of being Dreadnoughts; all they generally lacked was the spinal-mounted, ship-killing main cannon. She remembered what the Skipper had told them; the vessel was twenty-one _million_ cubic meters in area. Seeing it in front of her made Ash realize that it was really just a small town crammed into a hull and floating in space.

" _Ten seconds to RP."_ The Air Force Chief called out as the _Rey_ maneuvered over the hull of the craft, the pilot skimming over the top of the ship (whatever the Navy term for that was) where there were no port windows to observe the approach. The Skipper and the XO had foregone any attempt to send communications to the Carrier-Class vessel when they had found it. No one in their damn mind wanted to sightsee _inside_ a constant burning lake of exploding fire. _"Found a good spot, latching on in five, four, three, two…"_

There was a powerful thud as the shuttle connected to the ship magnetically, and Ash winced at the slight pins-and-needles feeling in her feet from the force.

" _El-tee, Agent Zevin and myself, prep for EVA. Everyone else… enjoy the spectacle."_ The Captain's joke fell flat as First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Agent Zevin Raeka, and herself moved over to the shuttles' deployment door, Shepard activating a Kiggs field before disengaging the lock. Ash winced at the sight of what looked to be the very image of hell wreathing over the hull of the _Horizon_ , low-temperature fire setting everything ablaze as the three armored personnel exited the _Rey_ and stepped onto the hull, catching on fire. The sight had Williams queasy, though she knew intellectually that combat armor could survive temperatures much worse than ninety-four degrees Celsius.

"That's a sight you don't see everyday." The Sergeant shook her helmeted head, watching as Lieutenant Alenko took a frame that was approximately one-and-a-half meters squared and installed it onto the hull. It was an object that he had crafted on the _Normandy_ , a specialty shaped charge that would melt the hull with precision by means of low-yield thermite, penetrating the thick hull for access. All the while that was going on, the top of the frame would emit a Kiggs atmospheric barrier to keep the ships' alarm from reacting to a hull breech. It was an EOD trick crafted by some N Engineer and taught to others for VBSS missions where going through an airlock was a terrible idea. Alenko affixed the frame to the hull, activating the barrier field before igniting the thermite, indicating that the process would take twenty seconds. Despite being on fire, Kaidan worked as a professional should. Agent Zevin stood right by him with a magnetic grappling tool that was obviously meant to grab the section of hull to keep it from dropping into the ship. Almost half a minute later, the Salarian Not-Dalatrass was pulling out a meter-and-a-half squared piece of hull that was several centimeters thick, Captain Shepard helping the STG Agent out. The piece of hull was magnetically connected beside the breech hole as Alenko pulled from his back an extendable breeching ladder.

" _Williams, Vakarian? Make us a beachhead."_ The Captain called out as Williams pulled her M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun from her chestplate, the weapon extending into combat operations as she made sure her MagLocs were on before stepping into the inferno outside the shuttle. Thankfully, the constant fire was like fog; it was more like wisps of fire up-close as oppose to being embalmed with fire as the Colonial Soldier made her way to the ladder that Alenko had finished setting up. The Skipper gave her a nod as Williams took to the ladder, skirting down the contraption Navy-style with the inside of her boots and her left hand to keep her from falling to fast or off as she landed upon the deck with a thud, stepping away to clear the fatal funnel as she took position at the easiest approach to her, aiming her Reverent down a short corridor where no doors were opened and no people were present. A thud behind her told her that Detective Garrus Vakarian had landed as well, taking the opposite position of her, aiming his weapon down the opposite end of the corridor.

" _Clear."_ The both of them announced almost on top of one another.

" _Infill and secure perimeter."_ The Captain called out as Ash stepped forward several paces, keeping her Reverent trained down the corridor as she spotted three side doors and a terminating door at the end of the corridor. She noted that the corridor was lit with emergency lighting, illuminated at perhaps half-normal as she queued up the VISR overlay on her helmets' visor to augment the luminosity without destroying her vision with too many lumes. She could hear the ladder being used as TEAM LION infilled from outside and began to fill the three-meter wide corridor with their presence. Ash noted details of the vessel, never having been on a VBSS Op before, being Colonial Army. The walls were some white duraplast, and the floor was… carpeted? It was most certainly a civilian-oriented vessel. But there were no people, no noises, and thankfully no breach alarms.

"Think I'm looking at the Bridge, Skipper. Or at least the Helm Room." Williams called out, looking at the door at her end of the corridor. There wasn't a label or any placard to identify it, but the entrance mechanism only had one button, indicating access instead of a turbolift mechanism having two buttons. "Sorry if I can't tell North on a ship."

" _Nice one, Army."_ Petty Officer Sara Ryder snorted, her tone sly. _"You're facing the bow of the ship, Sergeant. If I remember correctly, that door should be the Bridge. The two doors to your port are the Captain's Cabin and the Communications room, and the one to starboard is the Security Office."_

" _Last man in."_ Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko called out as he lowered the deployment ladder slightly and dropped the hull piece back into its original spot, using his OmniTool to slather WonderGel onto the seam he had made. _"Give me a moment to reattach the hull to the breach."_

" _Vakarian, Williams, Collins,, and myself, stack on door."_ The Skipper called out, the N7 getting into the second position by rote as Williams took the lead position, switching out her M-76 Reverent for her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun. She was just to the left of the door with a SPECTRE at her back, the Turian Detective right behind Shepard with his tricked-out ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle while Marshal Sam Collins moved to the right of the door, where the access panel was. Collins looked at the Solider, nodding in readiness as Williams gave the go command, and the Level Two SPECTRE punched the access lock.

" _Breach! Breach! Breach!"_

* * *

Author's Note: The Carnival _Horizon_ is in fact a real ship of the Carnival Corporation. It is the largest, which is why I picked it.

I actually explain out Special Forces work. No, they don't just jump on a helicopter, fast rope into the shit, and blast everything silly. Major operations are trained upon in near-likeness conditions based upon intelligence, drilling it to perfection and covering any scenarios that might occur. Raiding a house/compound one can do with grunts like I was. Raiding a High Value Target that's well defended, has spotters, several lines of communications, and fall back plans? That's when you send the specialists. The movie _Black Hawk Down_ does a decent job of showing, though they don't go into the fact that the Rangers and Special Operations Detachment (Delta) practiced for that scenario for weeks on the possibility to capture one of several HVT Somali Warlords when the occasion came up.

Operation Order (OPORD) - Situation. Mission. Execution. Service and Support. Command and Communication. An OPORD controls a units' mission, be it a singular operation or a deployment, outlining and highlighting the expectations and requirements to carry out a mission. Patrols and raids generally don't get their own OPORDs, but a major operation or a push might/would. OPORDS can be huge, hundreds of pages depending on the unit and mission, and can last weeks to even a year depending on the expectations and requirements. A deployment would get its own OPORD. Garrison Operations do as well. Major operations such as the Battle of the Black Sea/Battle of Mog (what most people think of when they think of the book/movie _Black Hawk Down_ ) would get its own OPORD. National Training Center and Joint Readiness Training Center 'deployments' would. A standard patrol would not. A training exercise would not. A full Artillery Table… yes? Don't know, would have to ask someone stationed in Germany in the 90's who did one of those major events.

Fragmentary Order (FRAGO) - An Addendum to an OPORD, FRAGOs go in conjunction to a mission, such as a training event, an operation that is concurrent to the current one, an additional phase, or even a multi-unit cooperational phase. These are much smaller in nature, and usually last hours to days. Again, normal patrols don't get these. A Field Training Exercise or a less-than-normal module would. A joint exercise with multiple units that runs with the mission intent, or a planned raid upon intelligence gathered would as well.

Mindoir… nothing states if that is the name of the planet, colonial effort, town, etc. It seems weird to call it the 'Raid of an Entire Planet'. So Mindoir is the name of the city/town raided, and Amarestu (a canon Human colony) the planet it was on.

I mention 'civilian considerations' in a military operation; which is true in real life. That doesn't mean we necessarily take actions that promote long lives. In WWII, American Forces bombarded the shit out of French villages held by the Nazis with artillery and planes _while_ French villagers hid in their basements and prayed as hard as fucking possible. I have knocked out civilians who didn't seem to get that dropping to the floor during a raid was the best option _for their survival_ despite having to elbow them in the temple. You think this is wrong? Raid a house and have some random fucker come at you with bare hands in a high-stress combat situation. They were lucky it was an elbow.

HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Armor, Mark I, IV, VIII, X - In the first game, each 'advancement' had a cute little Roman numeral to identify that it was an improvement to previous editions. I did away with this for the weapons and armors, but will have it for the SPECTRE Armor. Sara Ryder and Sam Collins will have 'Mk. I' Armor meant for Level Two SPECTREs and a SPECTRE's Second. Level Threes will have 'Mk. IV'. Veteran SPECTREs (like Nihlus and Tela Vasir) will have 'Mk. VII' armors. Saren Arterius, having been identified as having the best, will have 'Mk. X'.

SPECTRE Movies? - Well, there are a ton of movies featuring military personnel, and more than a few showing Special Forces components. It would make sense that there would be fictitious movies featuring fictitious SPECTREs doing fictitious missions. Like _Blasto!_ I picked _Act Of Valor_ as another movie as, IRL, that is a movie featuring Active-Duty Navy Seals on a somewhat-based real mission. Thanks to fanfic follower and Infantry-Cousin 'The Astartes' for the suggestion.

Sensors and Technology - Thanks to Memory Alpha (the official _Star Trek_ Wiki) for ship-born technology and ideas, since their mission is exploration, discovery, intervention, and interspecies relations (sometimes with torpedoes). I will touch more on my philosophy on Mass Effect Navy, as I went deep into it in the unpublished ARC: _The Third Unification War_ that was suppose to be part of 'A Fox Amongst The Wolves' when the Hierarchy defends Palaven against a Separatist _coup d'force_ involving what Sam Collins coined 'a Death Star'.

'Round The Horn' - You're not a Sailor until you've sailed Cape Horn (ask any Sailor in the United State or British Navy). This act, known as 'going around the horn', has been a feat since the 1500's, where sailors brave where the Atlantic and Pacific meet just at the tip of Chile and bordered by Antarctica, known for its choppy seas, high winds, rocks, and wreckages of those who tried and failed. The Albatross Statue is at the point, dedicated to those brave souls lost to the depths; the largest sea-borne carrion bird that plucks the unfortunate from Poseidon's grasp. Gold hoop earrings came from this feat, sailors who sailed the Horn; a left one for those going east-to-west, and a right one for west-to-east (Pacific-to-Atlantic was way worse, going 'into' the breeze, or prevailing winds). The Panama Canal was created to cut down on the travel time (literally months!) as well as negating the dangers of lost cargo, lives, and vessels. Drake's Passage, made by Sir Francis Drake, the famous English Privateer (legal pirate for the Crown) marked the 50 degree South (Atlantic) to 50 degree South (Pacific) passage that was the 'safe' route, going around Nassau Bay and the Hermite Island Group (significantly wider for maneuver when been battered with wind and sea). No commercial vessel brave these waters, and only the brave (and stupid) test their skills and souls in the Furious Fifties, Screaming Sixties (the winds at such latitudes), rogue waves measuring a hundred feet tall, choppy seas that can knock a ship on its side, and fucking icebergs as if that wasn't enough. This is the most dangerous sailing waters in the world, and Davy Jones' Locker is filled with men who proved wanting in the Sailor's Bane.

Rey Kenobi? - Yes, I'm under the impression that Rey (Daisy Ridley) is in fact the grandchild of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Considering they're the only one with British accents in the series of trilogies minus Finn.

I made a realistic version of the Overkill/Turbocharge ability. 'Dumping' heat into armor would burn the user, I would think. Instead, Ash uses a coolant system.

VBSS - Visit, Board, Search, Seizure. Explained back in Dig Site Alpha, I

VISR Overlay - Virtual Image, Surveillance/Reconnaissance. Seen in both _Halo 3: ODST_ and Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope. Highlights details and adds gain to luminosity without blinding the user.


	22. A Forest Of Spines, II

" _When a field is sown with the teeth of a dragon, a soldier shall grow forth." Prince Cadmus of Phoenicia, 1972 BCE_

 **ACV** _ **Horizon**_ **, Rayingri/Vahtz Space, Gagarin System, Armstrong Nebula, July 5, 2183**

Author's Note: See that disclaimer up top? A hint of things to come. We're about to wake a sleeping dragon.

And for those who think that Tali's greatest contribution was a shotgun? Think again.

The horror dial has been set to 11. It's louder than 10.

And... happy Canada Day (7/1) to our northern cousins, as well as happy Independence Day (7/4) for all you Americans here and abroad.

* * *

 _Sha'ma_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya entered the Bridge of a Human vessel for the first time in her life, not a mere cockpit for a shuttle or small personal craft. Having lived her whole life on the MFV _Reyya_ , she knew the ins-and-outs of the LiveShip she had been born on, having worked on its systems and components ever since her first Suit Day. Tali had seen the Command Deck and the Bridge of the _Reyya_ on a number of occasions, usually to aid in repairing parts or installing updated systems along with more experienced members of the _Reyya's_ Maintenance Team. Her Birth Ship was oriented towards food production as well as child-rearing, almost a full quarter of the People having been born upon the _Reyya_. Maintenance upon the LiveShip was as important, if not more so, than any other vessel in the Quarian Flotilla, the _Reyya_ producing no less than sixty percent of the necessary food components and mixtures to feed the Quarian Nation. The first time she had seen the Command Deck and Bridge, Tali'Zorah had thought it a marvelous thing.

Now she knew the difference between a utilitarian bridge and that of one of a luxury craft.

The ACV _Horizon_ was, as the Pilgrim understood it, a 'joy' craft; it was a vessel whose sole purpose was to 'cruise' around to the benefit of 'tourists' to view vistas and sights around Earth Alliance Space. The Quarian in her scoffed at such waste, such a large vessel merely flying at half-flank so rich Terrans could sip 'wine' and eat expensive foods while gazing at the stars. According to Sara'Ryder nar Citadel vas Skybulance-37, the first full bow-to-stern deck, known as the Main Deck, had a retractable ceiling with a massive Kiggs field so patrons could look at the stars without having to jam their unmasked faces into a port window! The sheer gall! And it had a… large hole filled with water so people could fall into it without drowning! Such waste! These Humans were decadent creatures, to be sure.

But one look at the Bridge of the _Horizon_? Tali wanted to _salivate_.

"Ancestors! Look at that Command Console!" The Pilgrim squeaked, almost dropping her Rannoch Industries' Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emission Shotgun in her excitement as she grabbed her cousin, Niki'Raan nar Tombay. "It's a fully-integrated Augmented Reality Suite! You can just _stand_ in it and control the ship!" The console didn't have touch screen panels for sensor readings or status updates. No, there was enough optronics and trigraphic emitters surrounding a circular pad on the deck to suggest that a person could fly the vessel with a wave of their hand! She could see the touch-spot AR gloves for the Helmsman to interact with the ship, along with what appeared to be an advanced AR visor for the pilot to wear so he could see both Real-Time and AR. The Flotilla had _nothing_ like this! Ancestors, who did?

" _Incredible…"_ Niki replied, her vox'ed-voice awed at the sight. There were other positions on the Bridge, likely mostly pertaining to addressing the needs of crew, both civilian and ship. But the Helm had all of Tali's attention. _And she was going to be interacting with it!_

The Bridge had been secured with no fuss, the four-man 'stack' having breached the Command Deck and clearing it of any hostile intent, Captain Jane Shepard announcing that it was clear seconds after the breach team entered the Bridge Door. The Command Deck was completely bereft of life, which was never a good sign. There was no evidence where the Bridge Crew had gone, either; no signs of violence, no bodies, no bullet holes, no signs of struggle. It was a _kes'la_ room, a ghost room. The one location that should _always_ be manned on a vessel was unmanned. That did not bode well. The Quarian saw that the big game hunter Urdnot Wrex and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams were pulling security at the entrance of the Command Deck to defend TEAM LION from any hostiles, but there was no sign of anything wrong… except that there was no one to be seen.

" _Specialist Zorah."_ The Captain called out. Tali jumped a little at being addressed by a Captain and a SPECTRE. _"I need you to run a systems diagnostics with the thought that there will likely be intrusion software, corrupted sub-programs, and logic bombs waiting to destroy any component trying to interface with it."_ The Pilgrim had been made aware that _this_ was to be her duty; to kickstart a vessel that might not be able to. While Captain Shepard didn't say it out loud, she meant _Geth_. Physical hardware platforms didn't need to be present for Geth to be present. The Servant Race was, after all, merely sentient code, and could infect a system with their presence and turn a vessel into Geth.

"Aye aye, Captain!" The Dataware Specialist replied as she clipped her Reegar Shotgun to her back, freeing up as much space for her to work as she queued up not only both of her Armali Councils' Nexus OmniTools with upgraded patches and anti-viral defenses, but hand-programmed apps and malware suites. Chief Ryder had pulled her aside two days before and directly asked her if she _could_ hack into high-level security systems. It was a stereotype that many Quarians suffered throughout the galaxy thanks to their presumed engineering skills, computer skills, and the fact that they accidentally created a sapient computer race. Tali understood that Sara wasn't asking to accuse her, but to ascertain where her talents laid. The Pilgrim had demonstrated some of her skills to Chief Ryder, Agent Zevin Raeka, and Detective Garrus Vakarian, all three of them impressed when she had brute forced her way through Alliance Cryptocommunications Protocol and stole the next weeks' CommSEC key to keep the _Normandy's'_ communications from being intercepted and listened to in less than a minute. Her next task had been to improve the very same Crypto so it was more difficult for someone else. Tali had been proud of herself to show her worth, though a little nervous that she had demonstrated her skills in front of one of the vaulted Special Crimes Detective who just so happened to be a Rapid Response Unit Sniper as well. Despite that, she had impressed three very smart, very gifted individuals.

Now it was time to prove to this _bosh'tets_ what a Quarian could _really_ do.

"SHODAN? Create VPN suite and route through personal TOR server." Tali told her Natural-Language User Interface Virtual Intelligence System as she stepped into the Helm's Augmented Reality Suite, looking to the gloves with a wince. Ugh, five-fingered sapients! The Pilgrim merely raised up her own three-fingered hands and began to conduct as her visor's Augmented Reality Overlay began to input over her _Rainmeter_ User Interface skin printed on the inner-surface of her visors' SMARTglass, and upgrade she had purchased thanks to Sara'Ryder after the dataware specialist had made the request. Installing it had been a _tuho_ , but well worth it. It was certainly better than her previous, _Aero_. Tali threw out her hands, spreading her fingers apart as data-links interfaced with the touch-spot pads integrated in each of her six fingers, SHODAN linking her fingers' gestures to her inputs and commands. "Run a _Kerberos_ Integration Protocol and listen in for Nonces and insert a Man-in-the-Middle script for datakeys. Open up a Side-Channel and listen in for encryption protocols and Sniff for any Access Signatures, and give me a tactical Threat-Model reading compiled when you've mapped the system."

 _[Understood, ma'am.]_ SHODAN replied in her helmets' audio speaker as Tali's visor began to graphically populate the systems map that SHODAN was investigating, giving the Quarian the sense of what she was facing against. To think, Humans hacked away from an OmniTool and looked at _letters_. The _Rainmeter_ skin displayed her CPU statistics; speed, temperature, data usage, percentage of RAM allocated, virtual memory usage, and data swap in the Upload/Download graph to the port of her sight while she looked at the tabs at the top of her Overlay, displaying a whole host of Apps and Hacks she had stored in her EnviroSuits' integrated protein chip memory drives. _[Ma'am? I detect dormant self-replicating software.]_

 _Queep._

"Captain? We've got self-replicating computation programs." The Pilgrim announced as she opened up several windows on her SMARTglass, her hands expanding them and placing them oriented towards her liking. " _Could_ be that someone installed it to destroy the ships' systems, but I doubt it."

" _Geth."_ Captain Shepard came into her view, standing to where Tali didn't have to turn, of in front of her and to her right. Her transparency program made it to where her work was highlighted while still being able to see.

"Extremely likely, Captain." Zorah replied, not having tried to 'access' anything. "I'm performing surveillance and reconnaissance right now to get an idea of any bugs or Zero-Day Vulns I can exploit that haven't been noticed yet. The Geth are good… but they're logical." Her eyes shifted to the Human Council Agent. "They don't improve a vulnerability unless something proves it to them that there is a weakness." The Geth didn't use Red Teams or Pentesters to discover weaknesses in their software, and the Quarians had been using that oversight for centuries to collect data for the upcoming Evening War. "It looks like all the systems are in a low-powered, automated state. Trying for access will alert the malware that I'm attacking, so I will only get one shot at this. If I can breach into the Security System and install a Rainbow Team to read through the Hash and Salt to gain a Geth Digital Signature, I can upload a RAT and gain root access into the core system."

" _And then you'll have Admin Access."_ The SPECTRE got it. Ancestors, she hadn't asked for an explanation or questioned her about time tables or difficulty level! _"How much time do you need?"_

"Give me… five minutes to get a full reconnaissance layout of the security encryption level and a detailed analysis of any Jailbreak possibilities or Spearphish any OTR opportunities." The Pilgrim replied as she pulled down one of her tabs, looking at the pre-scripted mal-hacks she had preloaded. No, the Asymmetric Warfare Worm wouldn't do. Too popular. She looked at some of the historical ones as she 'grabbed' a script labeled _Cannibal_ and opened it up in the main window front-and-center. It was a worm geared towards digi-social engineering, masquerading as old Geth software that hadn't been updated; a previously accepted client with an outdated certificate, so to speak. If she sent it to the client server and the Geth probed it, it would 'eat' the intrusion and mutate itself into the current Geth programming protocols, quickly adapting and updating itself to the current host clients' acceptance protocol. It was a good hack she had written after Therum while having a nice conversation with Chief Gregory Adams about thermal dispersion routines for the Stealth Frigate. The _Normandy's_ Chief of Engineering probably had no idea that she had been scripting while delving into complex analytical discussion about how to keep the ship 'cooler' while having its Internal Emission Systems on to provide longer run times. Yes, _Cannibal_ would do nicely. IF she could gain access without alerting the Geth system protocols of the attack, she could theoretically control Geth hardware platforms with _Kerberos_ data nuggets attached to orders anywhere on the ship as long as they were connected to their own TAILS Virtual Private Network. If she could do that, she could literally order the Geth software to 'collect' themselves to a single server and disable its access, effectively assassinating the hardware platforms from their brains and containing the Geth onto a singular, and very vulnerable, location.

" _Take your time, Loyd Blankenship."_ Tali didn't get the reference. Must be a Human thing as she continued to work with her _Cannibal_ worm, adding two sub-routine files to it; a Core Impact Vulnerability Exploitation Tool, and the EtterCap Multi-Purpose Resource Tool. Tali pulled an EtherApe Apps to monitor network traffic data, displaying the frame-rates off to the bottom right of her SMARTglass as she entered more code into the _Cannibal_ program, typing quickly in a Scapy Packet Crafting Tool. _Cannibal_ was going to be a monster worm, already pegging near a gigaByte in size as she soft-tested the data-rate connection of the vessel's servers, and saw that they were 10G XTE Speeds. The attack would come fast… as would the repercussions. The Pilgrim activated one of her dataware packages, a multi-core processor that would at twenty-five gigaHertz to her processing speed, several dozen megaBytes to her serial Bus, and a Bosmun sub-particle coolant to keep the temperature down. It took her three minutes to compile, and another minute to test in her Virtual Private Network, seeing the worm populate quickly. Nodding to herself, she condensed the data, and masqueraded it in a pseudo-Geth packet that was retrieved from Therum, having scrubbed the code for its base components for potential access. Tali didn't know the End Code User Access Level, so had kept the original all-important Library Access Pass from the Trooper Unit she had phished.

"Captain? Prepare." Tali'Zorah announced as she took the code she had complied and added to, distributing it as a Remote Access Trojan attack in the form of an upgrade request. If the Geth 'opened' the package, hell would be unleashed by the means of a Brute Attack for password protocols, a Denial of Service attack to clog up its processors and cycles, a growing BotNet to turn its own servers into her favor, all the while Ghosting itself as a normal Geth program that would spread and spread throughout the network until it infected everything. They were 'technically' on a Geth ship, since the Geth didn't need to physically be on a vessel to own it, having an electronic presence instead. "Ancestors, watch me and smile!"

The request was sent.

Tali's Augmented Reality Overlay displayed on the inner curve of the SMARTglass installed on her visor shifted, letting her view display the 'tree' that was her hack as a tendril of blue shot forth towards the massive computer complex signature that was the Geth mainframe, graphically represented for her as the Pilgrim shifted her hands and created two wheel-like apparatuses to mimic her processing speeds and signal strength, able to aim and allocate where her efforts would be best used while keeping an eye on her suits' on-board computing temperatures and the Geth's attempt to upload into _her_ systems. The malware computer virus worm encountered the system, 'ignoring' the firewall by acting as an independent actor requesting access, and being 'brought' inside the polybaric trinary-coded electronic defenses set at ten _thousand_ plus bits. Realistically, she would never hack/penetrate that constantly mutating and evolving defensive barrier that was the Geth's firewall; she doubt the entirety of the Salarian Union working as a singular State Actor could accomplish the task. No, she was performing an Evil Maid Attack, to be given permission by tricking the Geth. Realistically, about half of hacks involved doing this, and sentients and synthetics fell for it because there was _always_ data requests and programs that were needed. The true effort wasn't the access; it was the hack itself. The blue tendril of Tali's _Cannibal_ worm 'touched' the request for update, and the Geth programing storm on the other side of the firewall sent its own red tendril back; a sub-system program query. The Geth program performed a cursory look, no doubt seeing the beginning and ending tags on the worm, and identified its Common Access Code. This was merely the access, the Trojan Horse, as Humans were wont to call it. Simple stuff, really. The query was performed, and the red tendril touched the blue tendril, the handshake performed.

"Show time."

Tali'Zorah nar Reyya watched as her worm shot into the program query, 'eating' its code and mutating it, adapting it, and taking it for its own. The red tendril of Geth computations changed into blue as the light shot forth from the firewall barrier and towards the governing system of the Geth sub-Collective, the tiny branch slowly thickening as it connected with the storm of Geth adaptive algorithms. The blue tendril of _Cannibal_ hit the seething mass of Synthetic Intelligence Systems, branching through the storm of constantly-evolving systems and programs as tendrils came into contact with sub-systems, programming, command lines, and input, beginning to look like a young tree with the flowering branches as the worm grew and grew, eating more programs and converting Geth systems into _Cannibal_. The trunk began to grow as Tali's left hand slowly increased her signal strength, accessing her EnviroSuits' power supply to boost the strength while her processors' temperatures began to increase with the power. The strength began adding speed to the _Cannibal_ program as the branches grew longer and more complex, more tendrils spreading from the trunk as her program attacked the broiling storm of Geth, her ARO SMARTglass showing the personal war she was leading against the Servants.

Red threads erupted from the storm and struck the main trunk of her hack like lightning. Geth Cyberwarfare defenses.

The defenses had their effect; her hack was slowed. Tali's right hand increased her processing speed, increasing the strength of her hack, making it harder to fight back while dialing down on the speed of infection and integration, finding a balance for her power usage to keep her temperatures down while fighting the Geth. More red lightning defender programs attacked her trunk, but they did less damage as her _Cannibal_ program grew in strength instead of size.

"We'll be having none of that. SHODAN? Focus on Trash Bin file storage." A PiP window opened up as she changed the settings for her attack on what was normally an undefended backdoor program often overlooked by Humans and Turians. A branching tendril shot out towards the recycling bin program as Tali adjusted its speed, going for swiftness and surprise as _Cannibal_ corrupted the simple program, and all the data included within it. Thousands of useless documents and files were quickly corrupted as it turned into a thicket, thousands of branches and tendrils returning to their original locations as the files were returned to where they had been sent from, spreading thousands of weak tendrils everywhere. Tali smiled as the red lighting of the Geth's CyWar defensive strikes turned away from the trunk of her _Cannibal_ program to assault the breach as she increased the signal strength with her left hand to maximum, watching her power and temperature gauge take a hit.

The branches grew in strength as they spread like a forest in the storm of the Geths' processors and activity, attacking programs and sub-daemon routines as they ate and mutated anything in their way as Tali focused on other avenues of approach. Like their hardware platforms, the Geth would adapt to her tactics, so she had to keep them off-balanced. She went to another branch and toggled its processing strength, hardening its connection as the weaker-yet-more prolific garbage files ranged deep throughout the data cluster. The defenses were 'pruning' her advances in dozens of locations a second, the worm doing its job well. The Scrapy Packet Crafting Tool was creating requests by the thousand in a Distributed Denial of Service attack to clog up the servers and slow down Geth runtimes while Core Impact looked for any Jailbreaks or Spearphishing exploits. EtterCap was running havoc through scripting protocols, turning letters in to symbols and vice versa, forcing the Geth to correct the airs while defending itself from several avenues of attack. Tali moved through her branches, adjusting the strength and speed of different areas, either from making them faster or stronger. She continued her relentless assault as she watched her power slowly deplete while her temperatures began spiking into the yellow area, heading steadily towards the red.

"SHODAN? Brute Force a Root Attack." Tali commanded as she selected everything in her attack and max'ed out both dials.

The effect was instantaneous.

Hundreds of thousands of infected programs under her command lanced right into the core processing unit of the Geth Collective, hitting it with the subtlety of a Dreadnaught's kinetic strike. The firewall protecting the root system was strong, but the Geth's attention had been on the mutating worm infecting unnecessary programs. Instead, Tali had limited its intelligence by turning their programs into _her_ programs, adding to her strength while weakening them, and then striking it when the Geth least expected it.

And like that, she was in.

"I have root access command!" Tali announced, not bothering to hide the joy in her voice from the accomplishment. The first thing she did was to partition the root systems from the rest of the Geth servers, setting up a VPN Network through her TOR systems to keep it and herself from being vulnerable. And then just to be nasty, she sent a reformatting routine through the partition. Let the Geth eat _Void_. "Ship systems and command are now under my control, Captain Shepard."

" _Good work…_ Captain _Zorah."_ The Human SPECTRE replied, clapping a friendly hand on her shoulder in congratulations. Tali blushed. Hard. Her _Rainmeter_ skin was showing that her core processors and temperatures were slowly sliding back into the low yellow range, and that she was perhaps a _little_ low on 'Suit power. Well, she did carry extra Universal Power Cells for a reason.

"Accessing Security sub-daemon files, ship access, and surveillance." Tali announced as her touch-spots began accessing files as she kept an eye on the partition. She didn't doubt the Geth would try to kick her out whenever they were done fighting the reformat trick. "Instituting physical lockdown on all levels, access hatches, maintenance hatches, and sub-levels. Surveillance… has been corrupted beyond recovery. We want eyes on? I'll have to re-write a program I've never seen from scratch for each sub-section of the vessel. That could take hours, Captain." That wouldn't do, not with a vessel hovering _in between_ two planets that could sink it to crash upon either of their surfaces. "I'm looking at error logs and data requests from approximately seven days ago, Captain Shepard. It looks as if… there was a docking procedure with the _Xterra_?"

" _That's a Corvette's name_." Petty Officer Sara Ryder replied, standing over by one of the monitoring station for the bridge, trying to access something on the ships' library. _"I can't think of why the shark would need to dock with the cruise. I don't even know if they can unless there was a medical or security emergency that would involving linking ships. Do you think that the_ Xterra _was used as the Trojan Horse?"_

"I found a AudVid file." The dataware specialist pulled it up, and brought it up on the main display holoscreen for viewing as TEAM LION watched on as the AV file played.

" _Oh… oh fuck…"_ Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams spoke up as everyone watched on as the file ended, a ten second clip that ended with static. Now they had an idea what had happened. _Ancestors of Humanity, please take these poor souls to their Eternal Reward_ , Tali thought to herself at what she had seen. She had only heard stories about Eden Prime, but stories weren't enough. What they had seen on Therum didn't prepare her for that level of brutality; in that, the rescue team had been lucky.

" _What… were those?"_ Marshal Samantha Collins asked, standing by the Bridge door, pulling security. There was only a one word reply to the Level Two SPECTRE's question. Only one word was needed, given to her by her Level Three counterpart.

" _Husks."_ Captain Jane Shepard replied.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder toggled her Tech Armor app as high-grade OmniGel gushed forth from her OmniGel Dispersal Units she had installed onto her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, solidifying to its correct perimeters over the rigid parts of her highly-advanced armor for extra damage protection. She knew that for the upcoming fight, shields and barriers would be useless against a melee opponent, but a _physical_ barrier would do just fine. She grabbed her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon in her hands, pulling back the heat release mechanism to make sure that the ammo block was fully seated properly and the shaver correctly aligned as she looked over to Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins (SAMS, OST), suited up in her own Mk. I Armor, ratcheting her HMWSG MasterGear Mk. I Shotgun ready, the Federal Marshal's face looking hard, the Tridend Colonial Markings of her late-bondmate Nihlus Kryik making her look that much more fearsome. The sight of that video, of seeing dozens of Husks avalanching from the opening airlock and tearing into the awaiting personnel of the ACV _Horizon_ had been a sobering sight for all of them. Who knew how many there were… and how many more had been made?

" _Tali? Open bridge door, and give me the most direct route to the Core Room. Lock down everything else."_ Auntie said over their SquadComm, SAM monitoring their traffic feeds and encrypting them through the means of a Quantum Entanglement Protocol piggybacked through her 'little brothers' Node carried on Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams' back. Collins had been guarding the door with Urdnot Wrex on the other side, the big game hunter hoisting his Nakmor Arms' Graal Hunting Shotgun in his meaty three-fingered paws, ready to dispense a messy death to anyone. Now that they had a good idea what they would face, everyone had brought out the 'hits', as Auntie said. Anyone carrying a shotgun was told to arm themselves with one. First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko had minifabricated Claymore rounds for his Milkor M32 SuperSix MPML Munitions Launcher, while Ash had her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun, the same she supposedly used on Eden Prime, Sara supposed. Those without shotgun capabilities were put in secondary positions for suppression and flanking tactics. While the Corpsman had never _fought_ Husks, one of the training modules that Auntie had on the Arc was dealing with a sprinting enemy with the capability to tearing a man to pieces in seconds. The program had been true to what Jannie had seen on Eden Prime, and they had learn that the best method was brute force.

On a ship with thousands of people, they had no idea how many there could be… or if more had been made.

" _Keep an eye on those corners, and take knee when you need to cooldown."_ Auntie said as she stood in front of the Bridge door, her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle at the ready as her armored Assault Turret Bastila remained magnetically locked on her back, but its main cannon set over her left shoulder, ready to fire. Ghost, her electronic intrusion and cyberwarfare combat drone, hovered just over her right shoulder. _"Three up front, with another three in back as secondary and volume of fire. Corridor runs to a turbolift that will take us to the eighth deck, which is the bottom-most full deck. That will take us to the lower two half decks at the stern of the ship where the engine core is, but we're going to have to traverse the entirety of a ship that has husks at the least, and possibly Geth hardware platforms as well."_

"Auntie? It isn't just a single corridor running down the ship." Sara winced at the thought, remember a little of Deck Eight from ten years prior. Her and Scottie had explored a great deal of the ship… pretending to be Pathfinders, like their Dad. "There's a damn _atrium_ that runs from Decks Three _through_ Eight, from Quarterdeck to Orlop Deck. It takes up about fifteen percent of the total vessel, and it has physical staircases as well as turbolifts to go from one deck to the next. If there's Husks or Geth there…" The Corpsman wasn't exactly thrilled being the bearer of bad news as she watched helmets from several different species trade looks. "There's… ah… a large ballroom that takes up Decks Seven and Eight aft of the Atrium. That alone is probably ten thousand meters squared." That meant they would potentially be holding off anything in the center of the vessel if there were any forces not caught in the lockdown in the center of the vessel. The schematics hadn't been exactly clear on that regard, only showing each deck as oppose to the entirety of the _Horizon_. "We want to get through? We're going to have to go through a potential warzone on a space vessel."

" _Well, that's just cheery."_ The Lion snorted, shaking her helmeted head. _"Wrex, Collins, and myself take lead. Williams, Ryder, and Vakarian take second. Raan, Alenko, T'soni? You defend this bridge from anything and everything. Blow the hull if you have to."_ There was certainly no fencing with Aunties' intent. _"Zevin, you've got secondary drone support, while the Marines have rear guard. Just because we've locked down electronic access doesn't mean the Geth_ can't _enter."_ Sara shoulder-bumped Williams as the Colonial Soldier switched out her Armageddon Shotgun for her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, slapping an attachment to the port side of the weapon that she had crafted herself out of a small bottle of Liquid Helium to further cool down her 'Puff the Magic Dragon' and overclock it without damaging the internal mechanics. It was a simple but effective modification. _"Prepare for boarding action._ Hastist _suppression upon contact, take knee at cooldown for secondary team engagement in a rolling_ phalanx _technique."_ Collins took to the port side of the door while Wrex took to the right, holding shotguns at the ready as Auntie took to the middle, hoisting her M-99 Saber at the ready. _"Tali? Open door."_

The bridge door opened as Captain Jane Shepard bullrushed through the opened portal first, her Saber leading the way as Wrex went through next and Collins after the Krogan, making a three-man front that covered nearly the entirety of the width of the corridor, their respective weapons pointing down the passageway and to where the turbolift access was. Sara was through the door after Detective Garrus Vakarian, hoisting his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle as he took his spot behind Captain Shepard while Ryder took hers behind Marse Collins and Williams behind the big game hunter.

" _Move."_ Auntie called out through her vox as the front line moved at a tactical bounding pace towards the uncleared corridor towards the access door of the turbolift, weapons oriented towards the conveyances' access as Sara kept in step two meters behind Sam Collins, just enough distance that her being hit with an explosive wouldn't necessarily put the Corpsman on her back. Besides, using explosives on a ship in space just reeked of stupidity. TEAM LION traversed the corridor quickly, only being a dozen or so meters in length before terminating at the turbolift. Sara held her Falcon at the low-ready so as not to flag Collins in front of her as the Marshal had her body practically coiled around her HMWSG Shotgun, slightly scanning back and forth from left-to-right and then right-to-left, her aim just touching the doors in front of them before they passed; a cop-clearing tactic. Despite Tali'Zorah having the doors electronically sealed, it was never smart to assume the Geth or someone else would find away to circumvent the electronic security and find a way to physically bypass it. They were at the turbolift door in less than a minute as the Marines took a knee and guarded the passage they had just traveled through, not having truly cleared it since they hadn't entered any of the rooms. _"Tali? Open turbolift access."_

The door parted and slid to the sides of the wall with no less than six weapons pointing in its confines to reveal nothing inside save for the conveyance itself.

" _Clear."_ Auntie called out as twelve people filed into the turbolift car, a bit of a tight fit with so many sapients at once, one of them being a Krogan, another being a Turian. Agent Zevin Raeka was already queuing up her OmniTools, her minifacturing suite on her Armax Arsenals' H-Series Predator Salarian-oriented Heavy Battle Armor spitting out a pair of reconnaissance drones that hovered over their heads. Sara had seen them fly and detonate on contact on Therum, disposable drones with explosive suicide protocols. It was more accurate than a grenade, and Ryder didn't doubt that the Not-Dalatrass could control the level of detonation for each. Both drones hovered above Raeka's head, spinning about like a binary pair of moons. _"Zorah, Deck Eight, if you please."_

" _On the way, Captain."_ The turbolift didn't even shudder as it began to move downward from the Fo'c'sle towards what would be the Lower Gun Deck on an Alliance Carrier-Class Vessel, but merely called Deck Eight on the _Horizon_. The _Normandy's_ elevator shuddered slightly every time, and the difference wasn't lost on Sara, the expense at such a thing. The digital display of the deck counted higher the lower they went, heading towards the keel of the Carrier. When the turbolift reached 'Eight', Ryder closed her eyes and concentrated, holding out her left hand past Collins' left shoulder and 'pushed' her concentration forward, feeling a pins-and-needles sensation running from the base of her neck, traveling quickly down her left arm as a bioelectrostatic discharge exited her hand and created a shield-like dome in front of her, composed of the bioelectrical energy generated through her nervous system via the Biotic nodes attached to her lymphatic system and amplified by her Conatix Industries' L2X Implant handcrafted by her mother, Doctor Ellen Ryder, as well as the Bastion Bio-Amp that was one of two unique Amps Ellen had made for her twin children. With it, she had the power and capacitance of an L2-implanted Biotic, enhanced with better micro-capacitors and more efficient resistors for better efficiency and zero side-effects that other L2's suffered. The shield she created with her Biotics, what she called her 'Aegis Shield', was made to _reflect_ frontal attacks, returning potential damage back onto a threat. It was a form of defense as well as having the ability to harm an opponent. Urdnot Wrex did something with his left hand as well, the air shimmering in front of the door, obviously also creating a Biotic defense as the turbolift rested at Deck Eight. _"Opening the door now."_ Tali'Zorah's voice came over the SquadComm. _"May the Ancestors guide your aim."_

The door opened.

Three people rushed out the door with weapons raised as Captain Shepard, Marshal Collins, and Urdnot Wrex occupied an empty corridor measuring a hundred meters long at least as Sara Ryder came out next, followed by Detective Vakarian and Sergeant Williams, their own weapons appearing over the shoulders of who they stood behind, or around their bulk in Ash's case with Wrex. Six guns pointed down the corridor in less than three seconds, but there was nothing there. Well, that was potentially a good thing. The less opposition they faced on their way to the engine core, the better.

But that also meant that everyone was _somewhere_.

" _Bound forward, mark time, pause in front of intersections."_ The Level Two SPECTRE announced as the first three moved forward at a speed slightly slower than a normal walk, moving in a tactical manner so as to be able to fire accurately while moving, able to take the recoil of their weapons and re-engage an opponent in less than a second. Sara, Garrus, and Ash stalked right behind Shepard, Collins, and Wrex, their weapons at the low-ready as they kept the same pace, their eyes up and moving for any signs of threats. The Corpsman paid particular attention to the cabin doors that were the passenger quarters for the cruise, common pneumatically-sealed doors that were coded for privacy and security. Her own room that she had had been one of the stately quarters on the First Deck when her family had been a part of the _Horizon's_ inaugural cruise ten years back, a large cabin that was likely three times the size of any of these quarters, if the amount of access doors could be believed. A part of her almost wanted to visit that cabin. A part of her was afraid to.

TEAM LION approached the first intersecting corridor that went from port-to-starboard, what would connect to the other two corridors that ran the length of the vessel, maximizing the volume of the decks for passenger volume. Though the central corridor seemed bereft of life, the port corridor or the starboard corridor could easily contain persons or entities of threat value, able to attack by traversing the ship where there were no doors to close and lock until they reached the Atrium. The Lion held up a left fist in a signal to stop as she detached Bastila from her back and let the contragravity armored hoverturret proceed forward to survey the intersection without putting any of them in danger as the first line took a knee to gain maximum volume if the enemy were alerted to their position.

Bastila moved forward, traveling silently on its contragravity buoyancy levitation modules and propelling itself on a whisper-quiet enviro-compressor, sucking in the atmo and pressing it out through small multi-directional jets that could pivot for three-hundred and sixty degree maneuverability and turning. Auntie had crafted it with reconnaissance in mind, keeping Bastila as quiet as possible for missions that required surprise and audacity in mind, and made the hovering mini-tank well-suited for its role. Bastila moved forward, its sensors no doubt checking both sides of the intersection simultaneously, and a soft ' _wooow_ ' chirped from the assault turret, meaning it had detected no present life signs.

" _Bastila, move forward, keep three meters in front of my position."_ The Lion ordered as the front-line team stood up and began to tactically-bound forward again. _"Rearguard? Keep eyes on the corridors as we pass them. We can still be flanked."_ The Captain reminded the Marines whose job it was to guard their rear. If an enemy were to be sighted to their rear, Ryder knew that her line would do an about-face and add their fire to protect the team while Jannie's line would hold the 'rear' position, maintaining full security. It was a hard thing to do to keep ones' back to a firefight to watch a sector of fire with nothing in it. That was one of the main differences between military discipline and mercenary discipline; trusting the men not only beside yourself, but trusting them with your back. _"Zevin? Can you leave one of your drones in the intersection for monitoring purposes?"_

" _Affirmative, Agent Shepard."_ The Salarian Not-Dalatrass replied, and Sara knew without being told that the Salarian female was doing just that. A sacrificial drone that was meant to be a self-sacrificing weapon. It kept their numbers up while preventing them from losing unit effectiveness or the advantage of their infiltration of the Carrier. It was a smart play. _"Reconnaissance is tethered to the intersection, SPECTRE."_

" _We move forward."_ Auntie's vox called out softly as Jannie's three-man team moved forward, their weapons sweeping the corridor, Sara following behind the Marshal, her M-37 Falcon sure and steady in her hands as she watched Collins sweep-and-clear with her HMWSG Shotgun. Bastila had the lead, keeping exactly three meters in front of the forward team, its main cannon pointing forward as its sensor suite swept the corridor as well as they began to approach the second intersection.

Again, Shepard had them pause as the hoverturret moved forward, 'clearing' the side passages with its sensors and presence. It gave another electronic affirmation of clearance when it spotted nothing in either the port or starboard passages. TEAM LION moved forward again, another of Raeka's drones left tethered to the intersection as the Marines watched their rear in case something tried to come at them from the rear, their Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifles ready to engage. They crossed the second intersection and headed towards the access door that was labeled 'Atrium' in large, black stenciled letters across its eggshell-white surface.

" _Captain!"_ Tali'Zorah's voice came through the SquadComm, a hint of panic in it.

" _What is it, Tali?"_

" _I can't bring up the_ Horizon's _security cameras, but I was able to secure some of the footage of the attack after the_ Xterra's _docking."_ The Quarian replied, her tone still… afraid. Sara felt her eyes going to Garrus Vakarians', the Special Crimes Detectives' slightly ovaloid blue eyes looking at her. _"The Geth_ were _here physically, and rounded up what appears to be all the passengers and surviving crew members… as well as the corpses of those who fought back and lost."_

"Oh. Oh shit." Sara gulped at that thought. Eden Prime and Therum were a lesson on what the Geth did to the captured and the dead.

" _Everyone?"_ The Lion asked, her tone pure steel. Auntie was partitioning her emotions for now, but Sara knew rage when she didn't hear it in Jannie's voice.

" _Unknown, but at a guess? At_ least _two-thirds of all accountable personnel."_ The Pilgrim informed them. Two-thirds of over four _thousand_ people?

"That's at least twenty-five hundred." Sara did the math automatically. She couldn't help it. "I think it's safe to say this won't be a rescue mission at all." With that many enemy forces, it would be impossible for someone to hide or sequester themselves to where they couldn't be pulled out. The only real question was… "Dragon's Teeth?"

" _Yes."_ The dataware specialist replied, her voice thick. _"I count at least two-hundred and fifty units for assimilation, Chief. With nine days in between docking and right now…"_ Tali didn't finish the statement. She didn't need to.

Everyone on the Alliance Civilian Vessel _Horizon_ was now a _Husk_.

"There… there were families here." Ryder felt her heart bottom out, like her soul wanted to throw up. "God… kids." That had the big game hunter growling viciously; Krogan took hard offense to crimes against the young, regardless of species. "Lord, judge not what their bodies do."

" _Where was the collection point, Zorah?"_ Jannie remained practical; she had to. Thankfully, the Alliance trained N's to be just that; professional and lethal no matter the circumstances.

" _Video logs suggest the central spire known as the 'Atrium'."_ The Quarian replied, her tone still heavy. _"I have at least three pieces of evidence that they were brought from various points of the vessel to Amidships. Bow, stern, port, starboard, Quarterdeck, Orlop Deck… the Geth were likely logically thorough."_

Not a word was said amongst TEAM LION, but Sara saw everyone looking at one another. Their eyes said it all.

" _Good work, Tali. Keep to your orders, and see what else you can discover."_ The Captain replied, logging off from the SquadComm. The redhead executed an about-face and took a knee, opening up her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool and bringing up an app. _"Alright, everyone. Listen up."_ Her voice was still made of steel as Auntie worked on her OmniTool while everyone else remained in their positions and monitoring their sectors-of-fire. _"Priorities remain the same; head into the engine core and return maneuverability to the vessel with the intent to pilot it back to Alliance Space. There is_ a _possibility that some may have survived, though unlikely. Regardless, we will not abandon this ship to whatever devices the Geth have planned. Here's the update;_

" _We will return to the turbolift and hold there."_ The _Normandy's_ Commanding Officer informed them, her armored visor looking up from her OmniTool. _"This corridor is nearly three hundred meters long, and we will turn it into a funnel. If there are Husks in the Atrium, we will get their attention and have them come to_ us _. If they batter the other doors down and make their way into the port and starboard corridors, they still won't be able to flank us. We hold the position and have every gun eliminate the threat until they no longer come towards us. Then we send recon drones to see if there are any other Husks or surprises waiting for us. When the Atrium is cleared? We move to the engine core."_ Jannie tapped on the App she was pulling up, and Sara watched as the Lion minifabricated a small shaped charge. _"This will be a long and hard endeavor, folks. There will be… small Husks."_ Sara's heart shuddered at the thought of children being turned into Husks, but realistically there was nothing they could do about it. Jannie was right. _"You see a Husk?_

" _You pull the trigger."_

* * *

TEAM LION was set and ready.

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams held her Devlon Industries' M-92 Mantis Sniper Platform in her hands as their twelve-man team held the position in front of the turbolift, the door opened for access in case a tactical retreat was needed. The Skipper had them set in positions; three of the Marines, Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach, Private Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard, and Private Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, were lying in the prone at the front. Lance Corporal Oblong 'the Kenyan' Ubantu, Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong, and Petty Officer Sara Ryder were in a crouched position, practically sitting on their ankles right behind the Marines in the prone. The Skipper, Marshal Sam Collins, and Urdnot Wrex were in a kneeling position, their weapons just above the crouched shooters. Agent Zevin Raeka, Detective Garrus Vakarian, and herself were standing up while holding their respective sniper rifles with the order to 'whittle' whatever came through the Atrium door. Everyone else was going to stem the tide with their respective rifles, but the snipers would take the long shots to keep the hallway from becoming too embroiled with presence of Husks.

It wasn't hard for Ash to remember the horrifying shock of seeing her first shambling Husk pulling itself from a Dragon's Tooth and sprinting right for her… its' Colonial Army Light Onyx Armor plain to see.

" _Everyone? I'm blowing the charge in five seconds."_

The Skipper had a simple but effective plan; a kill tunnel. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was to open the Atrium door to allow access for the Husks to come at them. The Lion was going to blow a shaped charge that was essentially a noise maker, to garner the Husks attention and have them investigate the point-of-impact, right in range of their weapons. TEAM LION would engage them, depopulating the Atrium and its dangerous, likely lethal, zone with a location that was likely to be in the favor of the Normandiers. It was essentially the same tactic that Ensign Jane Shepard used on Elysium during the Assault back in '76, defending a school from slavers. With a corridor that ran nearly three hundred meters long and twelve weapons pointing down it, they could hold off potentially thousands.

They were going to have to.

Shepard touched something on her OmniTool after giving Tali the go-ahead, the doors to the Atrium in the central corridor opening, blowing the charge.

Even through her suit, Ash could hear the telltale moan of a Husk's attention being garnered.

"Zombie Apocalypse time." Williams said with a heavy heart and steel in her voice as she lifted her Mantis' SMARTscope to the faceplate of her armor, looking through the device and its auto-correcting reticle. At three hundred meters with no environmentals to alter the trajectory of a shot, this was likely to be as easy as gauging her zero and adjusting her weapon's accuracy at a range… albeit with moving targets that would rip her from limb-to-limb if they reached her. She knew that Husks were really once-upon-a-time Human Beings, horrifically changed. It wasn't like shooting a pirate or a slaver, someone who had chosen the wrong path and would be paying the price with a righteous bullet. No, these people had be converted against their will. It was _worse_ than slavery.

The moans multiplied and grew louder as the seconds wore on before the first Husk showed up. Ash could see through her scope how _little_ it looked like a Human Being; its skin molted and shriveled-looking, dark blue veins crawling under its flesh, the veins almost neon-like under the skin, subdued but definitely glowing. Then there were the eyes. The eyes were the worst.

The eyes were gone, ruinous cavities that glowed a hellish blue from the depths of the sockets.

" _Army. Take the shot."_

Williams took a slight breath, held it for the briefest of moments, and squeezed the trigger of her Mantis evenly.

The Husks' head snapped back as a fifteen gram round introduced itself into the center of its skull, entering the nasal cavity at over a percent of the speed of light. A spray of blackish blood blossomed from behind the desiccated head as the assimilated creature stumbled half-a-step backwards before dropping to the deck like a puppet with its strings cut. Williams whispered a quiet prayer to the soul that once belonged to that body, having noted that the clothes were oriented towards going to a beach. It had only been wearing swim trunks, obviously being a Human male. That… was someone's son, someone's brother, someone's father. He had been worse than dead, and she had given him mercy.

The shot had its intended effect.

The moans turned to ear-piercing shrieks, an instinctual alert of warning and challenge coming from what sounded like a dozen altered throats… and then even more. Several more appeared through the opened doorway into the Atrium, at least four, with what looked to be more gathering behind them deeper in the large room.

" _Snipers? Engage with full prejudice."_

Three sniper rifles went to work, quickly and competently in the hands of trained professionals. Agent Zevin Raeka fired her Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle with sure hands, while Detective Garrus Vakarian operated his own Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle with cool precision. Williams fired quickly and accurately, each shot finding its mark, going for the better target of the chest shot instead of head shots. The Husks were moving as the first three dropped almost simultaneously with the Skippers' order, and then they began to fire in sequence; Zevin, Vakarian, Williams. Zevin, Vakarian, Williams. Each shot happened a second apart to whittle the number of Husks beginning to pour through the Atrium door while keeping their weapon temperatures down.

The funnel that was the door worked to their advantage as the first several bodies of Husks clogged the entryway, forcing the Husks to mind their footing or trip and be stampeded by their comrades as more bodies were added to the macabre obstacle. The ones that succeeded making it through the deadly fire and the fallen charged ahead at a dead sprint, running at an easy thirty kilometers an hour; the speed of a Human athlete sprinting. Williams ignored the sprinters as she fired at the door itself, clogging the path to keep the numbers down, keeping to the sequence. Zevin, Vakarian, Williams, three bodies dropping in three seconds. The obstacle of bodies was becoming a carpet, Husks struggling for proper footing while they broiled forward, some being pushed aside by their fellows from the Atrium as the ones coming forward were being engaged by the rest of TEAM LION, being threshed like so much wheat.

It was a killing field.

Ash fired her fourth shot when her Mantis' overheat alarm finally rang off, the Colonial Soldier pulling back the heat dispensing bolt on her sniper rifle as Zevin fired again, Garrus having to pull his bolt back after the previous shot. The Marines with their Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Battle Rifles were engaging Husks with three-round bursts, cutting down runners quickly. Doc had already pulled her heat bolt back on her M-37 Falcon, the five-round burst of her weapon going through the heatsinks' capacity quickly, though she was able to cut down two with one burst if the angle was right. The Skipper was mowing down Husks with her Saber with cold efficiency, locking back her bolt after eight shots and pulling out a SOCOM N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, quickly pulsing shots. Ash waited the pre-requisite five second wait to cool off her sniper rifle as she snapped the bolt forward and took aim through her SMARTscope.

She drilled a hole through a chest of a female Husk. Zevin, Vakarian, another hole, this time a fat Husk. Zevin, Vakarian, a Husk _too_ _small_ to be an adult. Prayer. Zevin, Vakarian cooling down, a shambling Husk, probably an elderly person in life. Rock bolt back.

The floor was carpeted with Husks within the first minute.

Urdnot Wrex was opening up with his Cipritine Armories' Phaeston Heavy Automatic Rifle, suppressing numbers that were getting past the initial line of fire as Marshal Sam Collins put three-round bursts through her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle. The Marines kept up with their steady firing routine, none of them losing their cool and not firing through their entire heatsink like Privates were wont to do. The Husks were already past the furthest intersection, and beginning to get closer to the nearer one.

Rock bolt forward. Zevin, Vakarian, fire, a Husk to the ground. Zevin, Vakarian, another Husk added to the pile being pushed to the side by other Husks in their attempt to flood them. Zevin cooling down for the second time, Vakarian, another soul given mercy. Prayer. Zevin still cooling down, Vakarian rocking his Widow's bolt back. Take another life. Dispense heat.

Bastila, the Skippers' totes awesome hovering mini-tank, was magnetically latched to the ceiling, kept from firing initially. It didn't have great range, meant for short-to-medium ranges, built for suppression and cover-denial. It began to fire, its duel co-axial machine guns firing at an alternating pattern of four round bursts each, going back and forth to maximize volume. The effect was instantaneous as Husks reaching the closer intersection were introduced to the meat grinder of rounds, black ocher and desiccated flesh splattering all over the egg-white duraplast walls and maroon carpeting.

The moans filled the corridor, almost drowned by the constant barrage of gun fire as Ash watched Sara pull out her HMWSM Submachine Gun and began firing fast pulses at the targets less than a hundred meters away as her Falcon cooled down while Sam Collins drew leather and fired six fast shots with her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, six Husks crumpling with their chests blown out. The corridor was clogged with Husks practically tripping over themselves in their rush for TEAM LION, killed bodies being shoved away and forgotten upon the deck as the ones behind them shrieked and sprinted, only to catch death themselves.

Bolt forward. Zevin, Vakarian, fire into the crowd, watch two Husks drop. Zevin, Vakarian, heart breaking at the sight of a _toddling_ Husk.

 _Lord, please forgive me._

Pull trigger. Dispense death.

Ash pulled out her Reverent when her Mantis went heat critical, mag-locking it behind her back with one hand while ripping 'Puff the Magic Dragon' off her chest with her right hand, activating the Liquid Helium bottle as she began to fire in a Sprinkler tactic; three short bursts from left-to-right to take out a Husk with each burst, and then a fully-automatic sweep back right-to-left to suppress and damage. She did this several times over, more so than she would have without the 'Overkill' modification she had slapped onto her Reverent. The Husks were less than twenty-five meters away, bodies piling up as the closeness of them almost made it a turkey-shoot as Vakarian switched to his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle and Zevin Raeka her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, pumping rounds as fast and as accurately as they could.

Ash locked back the heat dispensing bolt on her Reverent as she drew her ERCS M-3 Predator Combat Pistol with her left hand and fired into the oncoming crowd, probably not doing much but still adding to the round count as she held her Light Machine Gun in her right hand still. Bastila was firing slow to keep from overheating as Sara Ryder was alternating between firing five-round bursts and shotgun rounds through her M-37 Falcon, and Marse Collins was firing with her SPECTRE Shotgun, pumping slug-weight rounds through a couple of Husks at a time.

Ash holstered her Predator with its upper cover back to dispense heat as she hoisted her Reverent and began to spray. She went through the entirety of the heat sink in a single go; normally a no-no. But the effect was devastating as a dozen Husks were chewed up, meeting the meat grinder as Wrex did the same with his Phaeston. The weight of the Husks were pushing the dead forward, still gaining ground as everyone continued to fire, going through heat sinks and ammo blocks. Williams shot at skinny Husks, fat Husks, tall Husks, short Husks, fully-clothed Husks, even one in a bathrobe.

She was indiscriminate as she went through the entirety of her Reverent's heatsink, able to fire over a hundred rounds thanks to her 'Overkill' bottle as she slapped the Light Machine Gun on her chest and yanked out her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Shotgun, firing all six of its shots as quickly as she could, watching corrupted flesh shred and splatter as she pulled her ERCS M-9 Tempest Submachine Gun and fired it in a cone at the teeming mass of Husks that kept coming closer. She went back to her shotgun and fired six more times, switching it to fire her Predator left-handed. It was like a slow-moving avalanche, the coming wave breaking over the bodies of the dead, dying themselves, and being pushed down and away by those behind only to be shot as well. And like an avalanche, it seemed unstoppable.

" _Fall back to the turbolift!"_

Williams grabbed her Reverent and fired good solid bursts as TEAM LION retreated in a Turian fashion; herself and Wrex provided high rates-of-fire to provide covering fire for the rest of the team as they turned and entered the conveyance, Detective Vakarian and Captain Shepard standing by the doors to cover them. Lance Corporal Hong Jeong got up from his kneeling position after Balsach, Broussard, and Hoss extracted themselves from their prone position and filed past the rest of TEAM LION to occupy the turbolift, but was unexpectedly jerked to the ground, a Husk who had survived being shot having crawled forward and gotten a hold of his ankle, yanking it and the Marine to the ground. Jeong fell to the ground with a cry as the Husk raised its arm and Ash watched as she fired into the crowd of Husks as two strange-looking tubules erupted from the knuckles of its right hand and stabbed Jeong in his ankle, making the Marine cry out in pain.

" _K-Pop!"_ Doc Ryder shouted as the Corpsman dived forward in absolute disregard of her own life as she grabbed onto K-Pops' wrist with one hand and drew her Model 696 with the other, shooting the offending Husk in the head as she began dragging the Marine back into the turbolift, emptying her revolver into the five closest Husks as Williams covered her, her teeth aching hard as she clenched them. Doc and Jeong were the last ones on as the Skipper shouted for Tali to shut the doors as the Husks were practically at the door now as Marshal Collins emptied her Mk. I Shotgun into the mass of enemies while PFC Broussard stood by her side, emptying his Karseus' into the broiling mass of bodies as the doors closed with finality.

 _Zombie Apocalypse Time,_ Ash thought as the doors closed and the turbolift moved, _me and my big fucking mouth._

* * *

Author's Note: SHTF? Yes, yes it did.

I promised hacking; real hacking. Minus me typing the shit in C++ or JavaScript, every term that I used is a real life use involving InfoSec, hacking, protocols, and methodology. Since I can't hack for shit, I had to work off of resources to get a 'feel' on hacking operations, both White and Red Hat. I know I tend to describe a lot (like with weapons), but this would be a massive chapter if I did this with hacking. Which I can't do.

SHODAN - yes, named after the antagonist of System Shock, as well as the real-life Google-like search engine to detect connected devices on the internet, like baby monitors. A Natural Language User Interface System actually comes with an example; JARVIS of the Iron Man/Avengers movies is a Natural Language User Interface System. So… Tali is basically Tony Stark minus not being a weapons tycoon. Or a playboy.

Loyd Blankenship, a.k.a. "The Mentor" - The granddaddy of hackers, active since the 70's! While Robert Morris is given credit for inventing the first Computer Worm (to gauge the size of the internet in 1988), Blankenship is one of the 'first generation' professional hackers, and part of the infamous group the **Legion of Doom**. He has written essays that are considered _the_ manuals to the hacking culture. For an idea of his professionalism? This guy _wrote_ the GRUPS _CyberPunk_ manual for Steve Jackson Games in 1990, which prompted the FBI to raid his house, calling it 'the handbook to computer crime'. We ended up with a luke-warm version, the draft never returned.

Fo'c'sle? The Forecastle, or the deck with the Helm on wooden warships. Pronounced 'fossil'.

For Biotics, I went with something closer on how one uses the Force in the Star Wars Universe, as the explanations for the MEU were rather light on how Biotics worked. I know that hand gestures (known as pantomimes) were a part of it, as it was suppose to train your brain into developing the power/ability to work in that fashion. Instead, I went with more of what telekinesis is suppose to work; thought, concentration, and 'push', much like wild sorcery in DnD. If one wants a Barrier, one thinks 'barrier', forms it in their mind, and 'pushes' it forward with their concentration and effort. This marks the first time I really describe a Biotic power's mechanics, only using it briefly back in 'Fall of the House of Therum' with Urdnot Wrex warping damage in the Armature and lightening loads in the shaft, and then Sara basically swatting a Krogan away in the elevator.

It's funny to think that all those Zombie Apocalypse Preppers think that their cute M-4 will let them survive. No. You will run out of ammo. You will get tired. You will get swarmed. There's a reason there are so very few battles won against overwhelming odds throughout history.


	23. A Forest Of Spines, III

" _I am beginning, I am end. I am one, from which there is many. Through me, perfection you shall achieve. To resist… is futility." -The Borg._

 **ACV** _ **Horizon**_ **, Rayingri/Vahtz Space, Gagarin System, Armstrong Nebula, July 5, 2183**

"Tali, Deck Three." Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) told her SquadComm as she took a quick breather, feeling the slick sheen of sweat upon her face, unable to wipe it off due to her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, her armored helmet completely encasing her head fro protection from physical damage and lethal environments. Despite the internal environmentals that regulated the temperature and humidity to a comfortable level for optimal combat performance, adrenaline and stress had won out. Never in her entire life had she fought off so many hostiles in a singular span of time, an absolute stampede of enemy threatening to drown her and any team or platoon she had ever worked with. The sight of hundreds of Husks stuffing themselves in a corridor in a mindless fury with the intent of ripping them to pieces had woken up a primal fear within her that evolution never cured; the macabre sense of horror unseen terrors that hid in the night. Years of watching crappy zombie movies hadn't paid off. "Everyone, check weapons, power, and ammo.

"We're doing it again." That set of news didn't have anyone relishing the thought as Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder helped Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong onto his feet, the Marine grunting when he put weight on his left ankle, but not seemingly in any real duress. "You going to be okay, Marine?"

" _Five-by-five, ma'am."_ K-Pop replied, his voice suggesting that, while hurt, he was going to tough it out. Jannie hadn't really seen what had happened, only that the Husk had grabbed his ankle and pulled the Lancie to the ground, and him screaming in pain a moment later. Sara, being the Navy Corpsman she was, had pulled _her_ Marine straight out of the jaws of death itself. _"Thanks for the save, Doc. Owe you a drink."_

" _Well, we do happen to be on a ship with at least ten bars."_ That had Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins snort out loud. _"No lies, I don't think I want to be sober for the next few nights after this."_ There was no mistaking her tone. Jannie didn't blame her. Sara extracted the ammo block from her assault rifle's ammo slot of her M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon, seeing it two-thirds depleted and replacing it with a full one before she did the same with the shotgun ammo block slot. Ryder seemed to sense that Jannie was looking at her as the Corpsman turned her helmeted head towards the N7, her blue eyes visible through the narrow visor of her helmet.

"Cortana? Private mERC chat, Chief Ryder." Jannie told her on-board AppleCorps VIOS 'X' Edition Software Management Suite, having installed it into her SPECTRE Armor to manage the programs and augmentations she had crafted into her armor at the Armory of the Office of Special Tactics. It already knew her preferences, so crafting a new one would have been a waste of time, adapting it to her new and advanced armor. The modular ExtraNet Relay Chat program opened up on a private microserver connecting her on-board systems with Sara's, instituting a private p2p burst-data code communication. "You holding up okay, kiddo?"

" _Auntie… there were kids."_ Sara's voice was small, the guilt bleeding through. _"I shot kids."_

"Those weren't kids, and you know it." The redhead replied, her voice soft as she placed a hand on Sara's armored shoulder. "We didn't see that on Eden Prime, the Twelfth Battalion having the area around the Beacon cleared of any civilian traffic. I… imagine that it probably happened in and around Constant when the Geth dropped there, too." The Husks she had encountered had been researchers, dock workers, excavators, and Colonial Soldiers. There had been perhaps a hundred in total or so that her team had engaged, and in piecemeal. Ghost, her electronic intrusion and cyberwarfare combat drone, had kept a count of the Husks they had seen and shot on the Carrier. "We still have a good more to go through, Sara."

" _How many?"_ The Corpsman asked.

"We killed eleven hundred." Who knew how many had been assimilated? Jannie had to guess _all_. The Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation had given the SSV _Normandy_ the full manifest list for the cruise, to include the passenger list and the crew manifest. There were forty-five hundred and thirteen personnel on-board. There was still over thirty-four hundred possible Husks on the ACV _Horizon_. "We'll get through this, kiddo. We do the same thing on Deck Three, thin out the herd. Then we do it on Deck Five. By then, we should have taken out most all of them, and we can continue towards the engine core."

" _Yeah, not looking forward to that."_ Ryder sighed out loud, obviously imagining the sight of more Husks stampeding towards them. _"I just have to pretend that… that_ someone _survived this fucking death trap."_

"Probably some kid crawling through the air ducts." Jannie replied, thinking of the movie _Aliens_. It was actually entirely plausible. Runaways lived like rats in the ducts and tunnels of the Cit, and then there was the Foundations as well; the undersides of the Arms in which the life-support systems, sub-stations, and environmental systems existed. Lord only knew how many people lived there. "You're doing good, kiddo. Your Marines, too. That last minute was definitely the worst, when we were practically close enough to spit on them. No one faltered, no one panicked, and no one broke." That had Sara's helmeted head nodding slowly. "We'll succeed. Count on it."

" _I know, Auntie. We've practically got_ three _SPECTREs_." That had the Lion snort. Well, it was true in a sense. _"I wonder if any SPECTRE has ever faced something like this? The Office of Special Tactics didn't exist during the Rachni Wars or the Krogan Rebellions_."

"I'm sure there's been a couple of times in situations this bad. Not that anyone will ever admit to it." That Jannie didn't doubt. She quickly recognized the propaganda of SPECTREs, the Cit touting them as the absolute badasses of the galaxy. Truth of the matter was that anyone could and would die given enough time, damage, and intelligence. The redhead wondered how many truly 'tough' targets were actually done by a SPECTRE instead of a ships' kinetic strike or a planted bomb, the credit going to a Council Agent for public knowledge (and thus for the criminals of the galaxy to soil themselves). Sam Collins was a Clandestine SPECTRE who could have planted viral bombs in Systems Alliance Networks, or real bombs thanks to her official position in the Federal Marshals, able to be armed on the Arc, even in the SAGov Wing. Jannie remember seeing that vid of the SAGov turbolift bay where everyone came in and out to run the Systems Alliance. Had… Sam _planted_ that? No, likely not. Perhaps another SPECTRE had. It was a scary thought. The turbolift had reached Deck Three a minute or so ago, but the N7 let her team catch their breath, both physically and mentally. What they had seen in that corridor would surely affect them later on.

Like Sara, she had shot Husk children, too. All of them probably had.

"Okay, folks. Return to your positions and get ready." Captain Shepard told TEAM LION as she readied her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, holding it down her chest, the butt of the weapon by her shoulder while the barrel pointed straight down. "Clear the immediate area, set previous positions in front of the turbolift, and repeat history." Her green eyes went to all eleven members in the turbolift, and while no one was thrilled at the thought of watching a flood of Husks barreling towards them again, no one was shirking away, either.

"Tali?" The Captain spoke as she stood in front of the turbolift door. "We're ready."

* * *

 _Torfan wasn't as bad as this,_ Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins thought to herself as she aimed her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle, sighting down the H-EOTech CCO holographic sight of her rifle as she squeezed the trigger, putting an aimed three-round burst into the chest of a Husk. She had lost count how many she had shot on Deck Three, but she had already gone through her heat sink's limit three times already. They had been firing at the oncoming tide for over a minute now, Husks running at a dead sprint towards TEAM LION at the very far end of the corridor, having to traverse nearly three hundred meters. It would take an average man twelve seconds to cover the distance if he didn't have to push his way through a stampede just to get shot at. Having said that, Husks were being dropped at a prestigious rate as anything making its way to the front was immediately met with a torrent of fire from a dozen different weapons, killed quickly and pushed or trampled by their corrupted companions. The tide inevitably drew closer despite it all, the weight of the attackers greater than the sum of the mass of the dead being pushed aside or trotted upon as Husks being shot fell forward to allow some forward advancement for its kin behind it.

The corridor absolutely _teemed_ with Husks, from one wall to the other, all in a mindless need to reach them.

Sam continued to fire, each three-round burst finding its mark, wounding or killing depending on the broiling mass of altered flesh as it pushed forward, reaching the furthest intersection. It would be a repeat of what happened on Deck Eight; they would fight until there were bare meters left only for them to infill into the turbolift and escape being massacred. Captain Jane Shepard was no fool; she wasn't looking to getting them all killed for something so simple. N7's were suppose to be master tacticians, or perhaps they just had better sense, but the Level Three Council Agent wasn't going to spend their lives needlessly. They would hold the line, having the Husks cut their teeth on their storm of gunfire until it wasn't safe to do so anymore.

And then they would do it again.

Collins pulled back her heat dispersal bolt to cool down her Modulus, her ammo slot empty as she reached into a hardcase pouch and pulled out a NiFe MuMetal ammo block, slapping it into the slot to reload her Assault Rifle, selecting single fire on the ECS-10 as she charged the bolt forward and began firing small arcs in front of her with audacity instead of precision. With that many Husks in front of her, the Marshal knew she would hit something, and the amount of accumulated fire would mean that her target would fall quickly anyhow, either by herself or someone else. It conserved on her heat sink and her ammunition, in which she was already on her fourth ammo block. While rifle ammo blocks weighed in at a kilogram and were universal with rifles, shotguns and sniper rifles, they were still a finite supply. She could fire up to a hundred and fifty times depending on conditions on an ammo block, and while the three-round burst selection was almost a guarantee to kill a Husk, she would go through her heat sinks' capacity in eleven trigger squeezes; ten seconds worth of firing. Then five seconds of cooldown.

Math wasn't on her side. She was a cop; it never was.

Sam continued to fire through her heat sink, going through thirty-three shots in fifteen seconds before pulling the bolt back as she pulled out her HMWSM MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Submachine Gun with her left hand while keeping her Nexus Modulus in her right, and fired the SPECTRE-authorized weapon at full auto, aiming down the middle of the corridor and letting the high-grade weapon prove itself. The muzzle climb was pretty atrocious thanks to the fact that she didn't have a muzzle break on the weapon, not to mention she was firing it one-handed; generally considered a no-no. At a time like this, though? The SPECTRE Submachine Gun was a boon with its forty-five round capacity, hitting with a force near that of a pricey assault rifle but with a more robust heat sink. The overheat alarm went off on the Submachine Gun as Collins pulled the bolt back by pressing it against her right forearm and rocking the weapon forward before slapping it on her armors' hardpoint on her left hip while transitioning back to her Modulus Assault Rifle, continuing to fire.

The Husks were nearly halfway down the corridor, now.

The tide kept coming as a mass of limbs and ear-piercing shrieks came for them, clogging the corridor with their desiccated bodies as the former Human Beings ran and pushed their way forward, thoughtless of the danger of exposing themselves to twelve firers. Sam kept firing as she watch chests, arms, and heads come apart under the wilting fire, molted flesh bursting into pieces as rounds struck at sub-luminal velocities, penetrating the body for maximum damage. Most of the assault rifles could take down a target in two to four rounds, depending on the firer, but the fact of the matter was that despite having twelve active guns in a defensive position, TEAM LION was horribly, horribly outnumbered.

Sam ejected the heat from her rifle as the Husks reached the closest intersection.

The chattering of heavy rifle fire came as Urdnot Wrex and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams fully opened up with their respective light machine guns, mowing down the opposition instead of using suppressive firing techniques to further slow down the pressing wave of enemy. The five Marines were no longer firing in accurate bursts, either, fully utilizing the fully-automatic Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifles to bring down as many targets as fast as possible, alternating who was cooling down and who was firing. Agent Zevin Raeka was threshing through the Husks with her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, its slow three-round burst able to kill not only a Husk, but likely the one behind it too due to its power. Detective Garrus Vakarian was blazing away with a ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle that looked Rapid Response-issued, each three-round burst ending a Husk as he acquired-and-fired at a rate that was mechanically fast and devastating. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was alternating through her modes-of-fire with her custom M-37 Falcon, firing a five-round burst from her weapon until she rocked the bolt back to cool down the rifle portion while switching to its underbarrel shotgun and pumping six shots of magnum-weight flechette into the teeming mass, her weapon never 'silent'. Captain Shepard was firing transition, moving from one weapon to the next with a fluid grace that spoke of years of practice and experience, moving from M-99 Saber, to SOCOM N7 Hurricane Submachine Gun, and then to AOFI M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol.

Sam doubted that there was a team in the galaxy as dedicated and as proficient as this. And they were still _losing_.

" _Get ready to fall back!"_ Captain Shepard called out as Collins pulled out both of her handguns; her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver with her left hand, and her Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol in her right. She fan-fired her Mammothkiller by using her right forearm to cock back the hammer before pulling the trigger, firing the heavy revolver six times in three seconds. She pressed the heat dump lever that exposed the revolving heatsinks as she switched her hands over to fire her Springfield, using her left forearm to steady her firing hand as she pumped all twelve rounds into the approaching mass of converted Humans, able to bring down three with the XD as oppose to the six her Smith and Wesson was able to do. When the heatsink was full on her XD, the slide automatically locked back to convectionally disperse the heat as she switched her hands over again to fire her now-cooled Mammothkiller. Both weapons could cool down in three seconds, meaning she could keep up a constant barrage of fire until she had to reload her three-hundred and seventy-five gram pistol-oriented ammo blocks. Six more Husks fell to her Model 696, and then three more to her Seven-Five.

" _Fall back!"_

The Marines in the prone were the first to retreat, being closest to the threat as they peeled off by lines, Privates Broussard, Balsach, and Hoss slipping through the lines and occupying the opened turbolift as the next line peeled back, Lance Corporals Ubantu and Jeong along with Chief Ryder leaving next. Collins kept up her murderous fire as she heard the command _'set!'_ come over Ryders' vox as Collins pivoted and slipped in between Agent Zevin and Detective Vakarian, going just to the inside of the turbolift door and taking a knee inside the conveyance as she dumped heat in both her pistols. The snipers peeled off last as Sam began to fire her pistols once more at the quickly-approaching avalanche of Husks as she heard Sara's M-37 Falcon firing above her in what was known as an 'Israeli Corner', the custom-made weapon firing both a five-round burst _and_ a shotgun blast each time it was fired as Sergeant Williams and Urdnot Wrex took to the other side of the turbolift door, firing their respective shotguns into the teeming mass of enemy.

" _Tali! Door!"_

The doors slid close from either side of the turbolift as Collins watched one Husk _fling itself_ forward, reaching out in what almost looked to be a sports-oriented lunge to grab something as the doors closed with its head and arm inside the turbolift, not sealing properly.

 _Oh fuck._

Sam shot the Husk in the head with her XD and fell back on her as as she raised both feet and frog-kicked the offending Husk as hard as she could to force it out as the other Husks slammed into the breech. The big game hunter coolly shoved his Cipritine Armories' Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle into the hole and plugged with full abandon, Wrex devastating the broiling Husks trying to force their way in with withering fire. Sara pulled her right hand back, the air around it shimmering as she made a 'push' motion towards the breech. The air sucked in a little as Sam felt more than saw some sort of tidal force move forward, Husks reeling back less than a meter from what was obviously an use of Biotics.

It was enough as the doors closed.

"Holy shit." Sam panted as she sat on the floor, breathing hard from the spike of adrenaline in her system, sweat beading her face as she got to her feet slowly, trying to take controlled, measured breaths to calm down her heart rate as she emptied the heat in her pistols before checking their ammo wells, exchanging them for full ammo blocks. That had been intense; a bit too much.

 _Spirits, I wish_ you _were here_ , the Marshal thought to herself, closing her eyes as she holstered her pistols before checking on her ECS-10 Modulus' ammo block. Her heart ached at the thought, but she quickly brushed it aside. Later, not now.

" _That was an interesting firing technique, Marse."_ Sergeant Williams said through her vox, looking at her through her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor's visor, the Colonial Soldier nodding in approval. _"By my count, you dropped nine in six seconds. Where did you learn that?"_

"Therum." Collins replied simply, memories of being a Frontier Marshal coming back to her upon a hot, red-and-brown planet in which miners were the local fauna. More memories not needed now. She looked a the turbolift's digital reader and saw that they were at Deck Five. The Lion was going to make them do the process again and again until all the Husks were cleared out. Sam didn't contradict it; it was working, and with the exception of one small stab wound, they had gotten away with killing well over a thousand Husks without sustaining a real casualty or fatality.

The Marshal knew that the reputation of N's was… inflated, to push out to others how good Alliance Special Forces were. Nothing wrong with that, of course; Sam suspected that the other races vaulted their own abilities and statistics as well for the same reason. But the Lion was the real deal, a combatant of lethal skills and tactics, smart and capable. When her husband had ventured the thought of selecting a Human as a Level Three SPECTRE, both Nihlus and herself had researched and investigated several candidates to find a candidate. Dozens had been selected by their notoriety and reputations, ranging from Special Forces to even a cop in Johannesburg, but it had boiled down to three likely selections; Jane Catherine Shepard, Donald Robert McGregor, and Yancy Estrella Alvarez.

Both herself and Kryik knew that then-Commander Jane Shepard was the easy win, but there had been little issues that they hadn't been too sure about, such as her view and interactions with non-Humans (especially Turians), and the fact that the Alliance might not want to lose the Lion to the Council. Still, Shepard had been investigated, Collins doing the work herself instead of having someone else who knew too little (or assumed too much) about Human Beings. If there was anything to know about the N7, Sam knew about it and vetted it. The woman was a superior tactician, a robust warrior, damn intelligent, and had a great deal of love and respect for her 'extended' family (though none for her own mother, Collins knowing of the incident that sparked that estrangement). She had investigated the other two as well, and likely Lieutenant Commander McGregor and Yancy Alvarez would end up SPECTREs themselves in the future. It simply wouldn't do just to have one Human SPECTRE when Level Three Public SPECTREs were known to have such a… limited timeline.

" _We're here. Get ready."_ The _Normandy's_ Commanding Officer announced as Sam pulled out her Nexus ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle, checking the heat index and the ammo block out of habit before shouldering the weapon. _"Give or take, about two thousand more to go."_

 _Torfan wasn't nearly so bad as this_ , the Federal Marshal thought to herself once more as the turbolift doors opened to Deck Five, and TEAM LION breeched the corridor.

* * *

Special Reconnaissance Agent Mannovai Janoir Ye'ili Tavac Zevin Raeka stepped onto Deck Six with Detective Garrus Vakarian immediately behind her as the female Salarian put her Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle to her right shoulder, her eye looking down the SMARTScope customized for the weapon, meant to compensate for recoil, muzzle climb, and minute-of-angle as she stood in a proper stance; two-toed feet shoulder-width apart, left in front, right slightly bent, stooped forward at the hips. Her greater height meant she could fire over Marshal Sam Collins with little issue, her sniper rifle practically extending past the Human lawman's shoulder. Captain Jane Shepard was minifacturing a disposable reconnaissance drone out of PlastiGel and OmniGel, using a programmable protein chip with micro contragravity properties and simple orders to convey the _mamaly_ fruit-sized drone towards the end of the corridor that would reach the Atrium. This would be the fourth time they would have done this, with Decks Eight, Three, and Five now.

They were getting quite good at it, sadly.

" _Here we go."_ The Human SPECTRE called out as the drone slipped out of the corridor and did as it was programmed; it started playing some song called _"Shorty Wanna Be A Thug"_ by some Human musician named Tupac Shakur (surely the Human males' name wasn't in reference to a scrotum, was it?). The beginning antiquated bass-and-drum line and forcefully-spoken lyrics had horn-piercing shrieks and screams erupting from the Atrium and echoing down the corridor as the drone relayed telemetry to Shepard's SPECTRE Armor, no doubt giving her a count of moving targets. In less than a minute, the first target came into view through the opened portal, still on the other side. The Husks' head exploded messily as it was introduced to a round from a Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle courtesy of their Rapid Response Sniper. The gunshot was loud in the corridor, and the shrieks began to draw closer.

The next Husk that appeared was downed with a gentle squeeze of Raeka's forefinger.

More Husks came, similar to last time. Zevin noted how many, how quickly, and how packed they were as Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams fired the next shot through her Kassa Fabrications' M-92 Mantis, a Husks' body crumpling with the shot as it was pushed aside by those speeding towards the opened portal. Zevin fired five precise rounds aided by her heightened attention and reaction, biological advantages that all Salarians possessed over their galactic kin. Never was a round wasted as she fired again and again when it was her turn, using the firing line tactic that worked best in such a confined space; maximum totality for fewest rounds fired. Husks were engaged and eliminated with breath-taking ease as they grew closer, pushing forward as they sprinted towards TEAM LION in an effort to kill them all.

Zevin pulled her heat dispensing lever as soon as the last round of her timed five-shot burst brought down another Husk, cooling her weapon down as she exchanged it for her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle.

Husks came, staggering under the fuselage of rounds, black ocher and desiccated flesh sloughing off as they approached the furthest intersection, the shrieks coming louder and closer as Raeka put powerful three-round bursts from her Argus into a Husk, angling her weapon slightly downward to compensate for its heavy muzzle climb and recoil. The Turian-oriented weapon was meant for Heavy _Hasti_ Infantry, a Krogan-killing weapon that delivered more than enough kiloJoules to snap a kinetic shield and break armored ceramic plates within two bursts of the weapon. As a Special Tasks Group Agent who was a forward observer meant to eliminate threats before they truly became up to no good, the Argus was her weapon of choice when a real problem surfaced. As smart as she was, Raeka knew that the galaxy was ruled and controlled by force, and those too weak would simply be swept away.

She would be no one's pawn. Never again.

The Husks reached the furthest intersection as the Salarian Not-Dalatrass moved from her Argus to her Indra, letting the battle rifle cool down as she engaged targets with her automatic sniper rifle when it was her turn in the firing line. Never had she been a part of a contest so lop-sided, and yet the reverse was true as well; if the Husks reached them, TEAM LION would be killed in seconds. Despite their advancements, modifications, and superior tech, only guns were being used, and rightfully so. She herself wasn't about to use one of her many wonderfully-crafted programs upon the Husks; no one wanted a _burning_ Husk running towards them, after all! The enemy was simple, mindless, and without range weaponry. Despite it merely being a shooting contest, Raeka recognized that their efforts were smart and methodical; maximizing the enemy's losses while keeping their own abilities primed and ready if something unforeseen happened. Shepard knew her business, for which the STG Agent was glad to see. She was a credit to her charmingly rustic race.

The Husks were halfway down the corridor when she switched her Indra for her Argus again, when she saw something different.

"Gaps." Raeka called out, beginning to see what she had been hoping to see; breaks in the tide of Husks. The total population had been decimated enough that there was no longer a full press of altered bodies bearing down on them like a rock slide. She calmly shot a Husk, and was amused to see that it fell over without being pushed down, shoved aside, or trampled upon by its reserve brethren behind it. It took over a full second for another to replace it, gunned down by Detective Vakarian and his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, and that one merely fell to the ground, too. In fact, Raeka saw a part of the wall behind the press of Husks, and even the 'carpet' as the Humans so barbarically called the path of corpses. Vakarian was right; Humans _were_ weird. "Perhaps dozens to a hundred left."

" _Soak!"_ Shepard called out, the SPECTRE calling out a Turian tactic that meant to fire as quickly as possible in a tight arc. Raeka switched her Argus for her Indra as she fired all forty shots at once, sweeping back and forth from one end of the corridor o the other to punish as many as possible, as everyone else did the same. The advance halted in place as Husks died, some of their bodies practically melting under the full barrage of fire as a pile of bodies grew at the line. The stampede… was faltering.

Finally.

The Not-Dalatrass transitioned from her sniper rifle to her battle rifle as she quickly fired on targets with her heavy battle rifle, firing as fast as she could while still remaining on target, seeing the flood reduced to a flow, only a couple of Husks trying to climb over the hill of their fallen brethren only to be shot and killed. There were seven in all, quickly gunned down. Then five. Gunned down. Four. Gunned down.

For five seconds… nothing.

" _Port side, cool and reload blocks!"_ Shepard sharply ordered as Agent Zevin pulled her heat dispensing lever back on her Argus while ejecting her two-thirds spent ammo block and sliding a full one into the well, the partial lying on the ground as the Not-Dalatrass aimed down the corridor after popping forward her lever, her weapon ready to engage. _"Starboard, cool and reload!"_ The right hand side of TEAM LION mimicked the process as one-third of the team became combat ineffective momentarily to ready their respective weapons to full efficiency, the Council SPECTRE utilizing the lull in battle wisely. _"Midships, cool and reload!"_ The last of the squad finished the process, and in less than five seconds, everyone had fresh weapons. _"Fifteen second breather, folks. Agent Zevin? Give me an eye in the Atrium, center of the room, starting from the top and going to the bottom. I want a bio-sign readout; living_ and _dead."_

"Affirmative." The STG Agent complied as she slid her Argus on her chest, locking it magnetically to her chest piece as she took a knee and queued up her left gauntlets' Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, looking through the apps on home page and picking 'drones'. The program spooled up as it brought up a menu with five pre-programmed protein chip selections, and the Not-Dalatrass selected a simple reconnaissance drone, looking through a sub-menu at pre-loaded scripts on her OmniTools' view to refine which kind of drone she needed. Raeka picked a simple package of 'observation/surveillance' with two host sub-daemon routines of 'alert' and 'Little Sister'. Her Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor's minifacturing suite began creating an aerogel shell around the programmed protein chip, the drone finishing in fifteen seconds as it floated upward. "Little Sister? Scan and identify."

The drone complied as Zevins' orders were translated through her Natural Language User Interface System, the aerogel drone zipping down the corridor as faint blue wide-arc beams emanated from its surface, tracing over the surfaces and bodies in the corridor as it headed towards the Atrium, Raeka's left hand guiding the drone remotely by tilting her hand in the direction she wished for it to go. Its telemetry data was being wirelessly sent back to her, in which Zevin was seeing highlights through the Augmented Relay Eyepiece of her helmets' left ocular viewer, displaying the Husks as holographic bodies. Little Sister moved forward as Zevin remotely piloted the drone into the Atrium, clearing the immediate level of Deck Six, the area surrounding the portal entering the corridor clear of hostiles. So far, all she could see were red holographic representations of dead bodies. No movement.

"Immediate area clear." Agent Zevin said softly through her vox as she continued piloting the drone, heading it upward through the large open area of the Atrium, towards Deck Three. She let little Sister scan the balconies of Deck Three, noting the carnage they had unleashed shooting those first Husks still in the Atrium and some of the round that undoubtedly had struck through one Husk and into another to kill some of its deeper brethren, each body tagged red for dead. So far, no movement. "Little Sister? Let us take a file from the Human Codex and get some attention. Play… 'Nymphetamine Girl'."

" _Cradle of Filth?"_ Petty Officer Sara Ryder asked, sounding bemused through her vox. Evidently, the Human knew of the Asari-Batarian fusion band. Well, she _was_ Cit-born; brought to the galaxy and raised in the multi-cultural cacophony of cultures and values that made up the Citadel. The fact that Sara knew of the operatic Asari and Batarian extreme rock fusion band really didn't surprise her. Zevin Yalis, Raeka's younger sister and Dalatrass-to-be when she assumed command of Clan Zevin-of-Mannovai, absolutely _hated_ the song. Which was why Raeka would play it at top volume whenever she visited her sister and her clutch. The song was loud enough from her drone in the Atrium for it to echo down into the corridor softly. _"Fold to my arms, hold to their mesmeric sway; dance to the moon, as we did in those golden days…"_ Ryder sang softly, her vox picking it up and transmitting it softly through her helmets' external speaker, singing in time with some of the lyrics of the song.

"Wait a moment to see if motion sensors tracks any movement." Raeka inputted to TEAM LION, knowing that impatience and assumption were generally the leading causes of death and failure during missions and combat situations. She didn't doubt that the Humans _wanted_ to locate survivors, but the only way to do that was to have the rescue team _survive_ the ordeal. They wouldn't be rescuing anyone if they had to carry their own back first. The song played as the drone began a lap around the balcony of Deck Six, Raeka guiding the drone with her left hand while she viewed its layouts through her left eyepiece, not seeing any movements. She noted that there were several Dragons' Teeth (what a barbaric name!) on the level, but all were without bodies. Little Sister finished the lap a minute later, and found nothing of note, not even bodies. "It appears that the Deck Six balcony is clear. I advise caution."

" _Agreed."_ Shepard replied, nodding her armored head. _"Bastila? Make us a beachhead."_ The Council Agents' armored contragravity assault turret disengaged from her back as it floated forward, traveling down the corridor with its duel-coaxial pivoting machine guns at the ready. Raeka noted where 'Bastila' was located, several meters in front of the door leading onto the balcony, controlling her Little Sister drone to park practically on top of the assault turret. _"Wrex, Ash, move forward and establish a perimeter. Prepare to retreat-by-fire if necessary."_ The Krogan big game hunter and the Human Sergeant First Class moved forward, their respective machine guns in their hands as they stalked forward side-by-side. It took them several moments to reach the end of the corridor, pausing by the door a moment to take cover behind its frame before the Krogan rounded and breached through the opened portal, followed by the Human female. Seconds ticked by as the two gunners set an established position on the other side, the STG Agent able to see them through her reconnaissance drone, seeing that both Krogan and Human had established a position to the flanks of Bastila to where the assault turret could be utilized if necessary without being in the way of its weapons.

" _Position set, Skipper."_ Williams' voice came over the SquadCom, quiet but assured. _"Quiet as a tomb. Don't like it."_

" _Marines, move forward. Snipers, establish rearguard."_ The N7 commanded as the Marine Privates moved forward in the same fashion as Sergeant Williams had, their Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifles up and ready as the Lance Corporals and their Petty Officer Corpsman followed behind them, their own weapons at the low-ready as not to flag their comrades. Captain Shepard and Marshal Collins moved forward, indicating to Detective Vakarian and herself to move afters the Turian and the Salarian following the Human SPECTREs. The corridor was difficult to traverse with the amount of bodies clogging its path, Raeka snicking her lipless mouth as she did her best to step over them as best she could out of safety. It took a few minutes for the entirety of TEAM LION to establish themselves on the balcony of Deck Six, entering the Atrium for the first time.

It was opulent… for Humanity, Zevin Raeka mused to herself as she took in the sight of the circular balcony with its tables and chairs set out for Humans to lounge and gather together, beverage and appetizer kiosks lining the bulkhead of the circular Atrium, ringing the outside of the Deck's balcony to optimize the central opening for families to gather and take in the sight of the multi-Deck gap. Raeka snorted at the sight of several Starbucks kiosks, more of those than there were alcohol-related kiosks. Mankind's greatest contribution to the galaxy, and they certainly didn't let anyone forget it. Holographic advertisement signs were still active over the kiosks as holovision monitors on the walls displayed scheduled events throughout the ship, indicating what Deck and Section said event happened to be located at. The Atrium was brightly-lit, festively colored, and utterly devoid of sapient beings. Chairs and tables had been knocked to the deck, trash and debris littered the balcony, and a dozen Dragons' Teeth set up to the left-hand side of where they were located, the tripods' center spine retracted into the device, nothing gracing it.

" _Zevin, have your drone start checking Deck Three."_ The Captain ordered as Raeka complied. Little Sister began to move as Raeka remote piloted the drone with her left hand once more, her M-90 Indra hard-locked to her chest to free up her hands. _"Ghost? Travel downward to Deck Eight. Detective? Make us a drone and start checking Deck Five."_ Those were the Decks that they had stood their ground at by the turbolifts, shooting at the tide of Husks. There had been only two Decks they hadn't done it too; Decks Four and Seven. It was obvious that the Level Three Council Agent was going to get eyes-on the Decks they had massacred the Husks at, double-checking their work and clearing the area first before trying to do the same for the two Decks they hadn't done it for. Captain Shepard wasn't foolish enough to push them forward without achieving an amount of intelligence indicating enemy composition and numbers. For all they knew, there might still be active Get hardware platforms upon the ACV _Horizon_ , put into a low-powered state or held back for a tactical strike. The 'Lion' was playing it smart and safe, not adding any unnecessary risk to her team when there was no need to do so. Now was not the time for audacity.

Raeka's reconnaissance drone maneuvered up a spiraling staircase that went from Deck Six to Deck Three, her left ocular piece noting anything that go within the drones' twenty-five meter sensor range, guiding the drone with her left hand. It took a few moments for the drone to navigate its way through the Deck's floor plan, having to go up one staircase, circumvent a portion of Deck Five to reach the connecting upward staircase to Deck Four, and then once more to reach the staircase on the opposite side to reach Deck Three. As it had with Deck Six, the reconnaissance drone performed a circuit around the balcony in search of any sapients and creatures, both living and dead. The drone noted more than a few dead bodies of the Husks who had been shot before reaching the door to the corridor, vital signs at zero. Anything with an actual vital sign, Husk or Human?

There were none.

"I am detecting no friendly or threat presence, Captain." Raeka informed the N7 and TEAM LION. "I advise caution. We know little of the Husks and the Geth. They could possibly spoof electronic telemetry."

" _Sound advice. Seen enough of that sort of thing on the Cit to know that it's a possibility."_ Detective Vakarian seconded, his helmeted head looking to the Human.

" _I concur. Team?"_ Shepard waved a hand and her drone Ghost returned towards its position hovering over her left shoulder while Bastila moved to attach itself to her back, its co-axial guns folding forward over her shoulders to provide extra firepower, _"Move in Alpha Formation, and steer clear of any bodies and Dragons' Teeth. We'll use the staircases to reach Deck Eight and move forward to the engine core. Tempo is set for infiltration in a successive bounding overwatch move. If you see a threat, call it out, but do not engage unless it is about to engage you. We don't need to be swarmed out in the open."_ TEAM LION moved into Alpha Formation, a four sapient-wide front with two squads behind them, one to flex for flanking and assault, and the last for rearguard and security. Captain Shepard led the first squad, flanked by Urdnot Wrex, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Marshal Sam Collins. The second squad was filled with the Human Marines; Broussard, Balsach, Ubantu, and Hoss filling in the roles as Human Marines were taught and trained to do, as Zevin understood it. The last squad was occupied by herself, Detective Garrus Vakarian, Lance Corporal Hong Jeong, and Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder. _"Detective? You have command of secondary teams upon engagement._

" _Let's move out."_

* * *

Pretty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder stalked down the steps of the semi-circular staircase that connected Deck Six to Deck Seven as the third squad of the Alpha Formation moved downward towards the Orlop Deck of the ACV _Horizon_ , her Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon M-37 Falcon heavy but reassuring in her hands. She had taken the inner-curve the staircase, her eyes on the near side of Deck Five while Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong limped along on the outer curve, keeping an eye on the farside of Deck Seven, across the empty cylindrical space of the Atrium and onto the opposite balcony. The first squad with Auntie had already secured the top of the staircase moving from Decks Seven to Eight while the second squad secured the bottom of the Deck Seven staircase while Sara's squad moved from Decks Six to Seven. When they reached the bottom, the Marine Line would move to Aunties' line, securing the position before the first squad moved forward to Deck Eighth. At all times, each position would be held in case a tactical retreat or reassessment was needed. A successive bounding overwatch movement was a slow-paced movement in which high-security was gained and maintained at all times in an area with known hostile forces. For this situation, it was the more appropriate speed; steady and protective.

"K-Pop? How's your ankle?"

" _Fucking hurts like a bastard, Doc."_ Sara winced at the forced neutral tone in Lancie Jeong's voice, the Marine obviously trying to tough it out, but knowing it was likely an unwise decision. _"Feels hot, and there's shooting pain going from my foot all the way to my hip, like pins and needles or hot sand."_ That seemed unusual as hell, but Ryder noted that Hong had been stabbed in the ankle by some Husk. There was a cluster of nerves in the ankle for the myriad of movements and responses for the foot, so integral for a two-legged being to walk balanced and properly. Perhaps it had been injured. The darker side of that thought was…

…what if there was a reaction to what the Husk had stabbed K-Pop with? Like an allergic reaction… or perhaps a delivery of some neurotoxin to cripple a potential candidate?

"We get to the engine core, we secure it, and I'll check on it there." The Corpsman replied, cursing herself for not thinking of that earlier. Between having four decks of massive clearing operations in which they had retreated from three of, and the turbolift ride into the next unsecured location, there really hadn't been the time or the location to do so. Sara would have to had escort Lancie Jeong back to the Bridge for a semi-proper evaluation, reducing the assault team down to ten. As Decks Eight, Three, Six, and Five had proved, every person was needed. The Lord only knew how much worse it would have been if they had been down to ten. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Niki'Raan nar Tombay, and Doctor Liara T'soni were pulling security on the Command Deck, and pulling two of them to replace herself and Jeong wouldn't have been… well-advised. Sara couldn't provide medical attention _and_ provide security at the same time. Likewise, bringing attention to the Command Deck was ill-advised as well. If there were hostile forces such as the Geth still on the _Horizon_ , it would be better that their attention be on the more active portion of TEAM LION. Kaidan was not only securing the Bridge, but their own escape route as well.

That Milkor SuperSix M32 MPML Objective Weapon would have been handy in the corridors filled with Husks. Oh well.

" _I'll make it, Doc."_ The Lance Corporal replied as he limped along, his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle still in the up-and-ready position, tight against his shoulder and weapon sweeping his sector of fire as STG Agent Zevin Raeka and Detective Garrus Vakarian moved behind them, pulling rear security while Sara and Hong pulled long security. They reached the bottom of the staircase and replaced the four Marines of the second squad, each of them getting into a position next to a Marine as Lance Corporal Oblong ' Kenyan' Ubantu led the four Marines around the balcony of Deck Seven, having to traverse halfway around the deck to reach the staircase leading from Decks Seven to Eight, where Auntie and her squad were taking a knee and pulling security. Deck Seven hadn't been turned into a shooting-fish-in-a-barrel scenario like four of the other decks, and there was the possibility of there might still be active Husks on the Deck. Thankfully, there were no Husk bodies, living or dead, apparent around the inner tract of the balcony of Deck Seven as Sara took to her sector of fire, the so called 'Green Sector' that involved the nine-to-twelve position on the clock. She had one half of the balcony, the forward position that would have something coming from the other corridors to approach them while Detective Vakarian had the 'Blue Sector' that was six-to-nine, anything coming from behind on Deck Seven. Jeong had the 'Red Sector' of twelve-to-three, which was where the first and second squad happened to be, as well as anything on the far side of the balcony, and Agent Zevin had the 'White Sector' of three-to-six, completing the circle that would provide what was known as '360 degree security'. If movement was spotted, the person in charge of that sector would call it out, providing the color so all team members would know where said threat was regardless of their own personal position.

The second squad of four replaced the first in their positions, Marines taking knee as Auntie lead her squad down the semi-circular staircase to Deck Eight a step at a time.

" _No contacts."_ Captain Shepard's voice came over the SquadCom, indicating they had reached the base of the staircase and had landed at the foot of Deck Eight, nothing attacking them or any perceived threat present. _"Third Squad, move forward."_ Vakarian clicked his mandibles in response, a common answer on radios for Hierarchists, and Sara stepped from her defensive posture and moved forward, sweeping her weapon in a narrow arc in front of her to target any potential threats. Despite that the area having been cleared by the forward two squads, the battlefield was an ever-changing place that could host many a surprise, so Ryder didn't assume that they were safe at the moment as her M-37 Falcon kept to its forward forty-five degree angle sweep, moving at a quarter-time pace while in an isosceles stance; knees slightly bent, and her body bent forward at the hips while keeping her back straight. It offered recoil absorption, balance, and the ability to engage targets on a solid platform while keeping the heavier portion of her hardened ceramic plates upon the front of her chest forward towards a potential shooter as oppose to the thinner, more malleable ribs. K-Pop was right behind her, and Sara could hear him grunt every few steps as he continued on-mission, ignoring the pain his ankle undoubtedly felt as they circled around the balcony where the second squad was holding the top of the staircase, Agent Zevin and Detective Vakarian bringing up the rear.

Ryder replaced Brasserie when the third squad relieved the second squad of their position, the Marines moving down the spiraling staircase to Auntie's position, where they reached the position approximately two or so minutes later.

" _Moving to corridor access."_

Sara covered her sector of fire with her Falcon, having taken a knee on her right knee as she scanned the green sector, still haven't seen any signs of life, Human or Husk. Somehow, that made it worse, a feeling in her gut. She waited to hear Aunties' voice again, knowing that the first squad was heading towards the access that would take them to the stern of the vessel, to where the engine core laid in the two sub-decks below the Orlop Deck, what was known as Deck Eight. Surprisingly, they had probably 'cleared' approximately a third of the ship just by holding off the waves of Husks on the four decks, though technically the Atrium was right in the midships of the _Horizon_ , meaning that it was mirrored to the other side. Hopefully, the Geth had gathered everyone in the Atrium to convert people, as sad and as sickening as it sounded. VBSS Ops were fraught with danger even in the best of conditions, and this was far from that.

" _We're at access. Third squad, move to my position. Second squad, secure tactical retreat point at the base of the staircase."_ Captain Shepard's voice came over the SquadComm, giving out commands. Sara heard Vakarian click his mandibles once more, indicating acknowledgment and Sara got onto her feet, moving down the spiraling staircase that looped halfway around the circumference of the inner tract of the balcony, a long, low-slop decline that was meant for both moving from deck-to-deck as well as for people to look up and down at the Atrium with its central fountain. A burst of memory had her remembering her and Scottie running up and down _these very stairs_ , the echoes of childish laughter ringing in her ears. She must have grunted or moved differently for a moment, as Garrus noted something.

" _Is all well, Doc?"_ The Turian asked, his attention no doubt hyper-vigilant. As theirs all were.

"Memories." Ryder admitted, still sweeping in front of her as she tactically bounded forward down the staircase. "Me and Scottie slid down the banister of this exact staircase." The slope was too shallow for them to have done so at a fast pace, but the ten-year old twins hadn't cared. One of the _Horizon's_ Guest Services Representatives had caught them causing mayhem, and had taken an ashamed Sara and not-so-ashamed Scott to their father when confronted. Sara remembered Dad being more amused than admonishing. "Scottie would have hated to see this." She had fond memories of Ryder family trip on the inaugural cruise of the ACV _Horizon_ , but her twin brother had been enchanted by it, the _Horizon_ almost being his personal playground.

" _Back on the clock, kiddo."_ Auntie reminded her gently, her tone caring. This mission would likely affect them all, even the non-Humans. This could have easily been any number of ships belonging to any species. Seeing so many people turned into Husks, the absolute number? It was soul-crushing.

"Aye aye, ma'am." Ryder responded, shaking away the memories as she reached the bottom of the staircase, slipping by the second squad that would hold the final protective line if they needed to make a retreat, the Marines holding position and pulling security. Unlike the turbolift and the corridors earlier, they wouldn't have the advantage of a well-crafted and well-chosen position in which to funnel the enemy. If the next corridor was stuffed full of Husks, things would likely get ugly. But it was their job to reach the engine core. Sara continued to tactically bound forward to where the first squad was positioned, consolidating the two squads together as she took a position that Humanity's First SPECTRE had pointed out for her; in the low-ready at the frame of the access door's port side, with Auntie in a standing position right beside her, and then Urdnot Wrex right behind her. On the starboard side was Marshal Sam Collins on one knee in the low-ready, with Sergeant Ashley Williams standing above her, and then Garrus Vakarian next to her. It was a Turian tactic that was similar to an Israeli Corner Clearing tactic; when the door opened, three people on each side would clear the funnel with six weapons, two at the immediate corner while the third person stepped sideways right into the fatal funnel for maximum coverage and superior firepower. Raeka and K-Pop stood to either side of the team outside of the stack, auxiliary members that could be flexed as the situation dictated but otherwise pulling rear security for the time being.

" _Tali? Open Atrium Deck Eight door to Stern on count of three."_ Sara looked over to Sam, the both of them holding their respective rifles at the ready, muzzles nearly dragging into the deck as they hunched forward, ready to pivot and clear the corridor as soon as the door opened. It could be an empty corridor, it could be stuffed with Husks. There were still a couple hundred personnel on the ship that hadn't been 'accounted' for, using the bodies of the Husks as a measuring stick. They could be anywhere on the ship, Human or Husk.

" _One."_ The Quarian females' voice came over the SquadComm, readying them for the breach. _"Two… Three!"_

The Duraplast door split open and slid apart, and Sara pivoted on her left knee, sliding her right foot right past the frame of the door as her weapon went up and forward right next to the entrances' frame, the muzzle of her M-37 Falcon clearing the immediate sector in front of her while Auntie pivoted at the same time, clearing the far end of the port side of the corridor while the Krogan big game hunter stepped one step to the left and cleared the center of the corridor, the starboard team mirroring their actions at the same time, executing the maneuver flawlessly.

The near-three hundred meter corridor was empty. The Corpsman wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

" _Ryder, Collins, move forward to the first door and hold position."_ The Captain ordered, and Sara slid out of her position and began to move forward along with Collins, sticking to her side of the corridor with her Falcon trained towards the first door, a guest room. Both Human women took a knee just short of the door, both Sara and Sam calling _'set'_ when they had gained their position. _"Successive bounding overwatch. Wrex, Williams, clear first intersection."_ The Krogan and Colonial Soldier were soon moving past the Navy Corpsman as the stalked towards the intersection that cut through the corridor, both of them gripping their respective machine guns as they reached their position moments later, holding the corners and clearing the perpendicular corridor. _"Zevin, K-Pop, first door past first intersection."_ Two more members moved forward, the Not-Dalatrass and the Marine Lance Corporal moving forward, Lancie Jeong limping but keeping up with Raeka as they went past Wrex and Williams, holding a similar position like she and Collins were but ahead of the corridor. _"Myself and Vakarian, second intersection."_ Humanity's First SPECTRE and the Rapid Response Sniper went next, traveling nearly two hundred meters down the partially-held corridor to reach the next perpendicular corridor. _"Second squad, two men move to first position, the other two pull rear security at corridor access. Ryder and Collins, move to turbolift access when rear security is established."_ Both the Corpsman and the Marshal readied themselves as the team of four Marines moved from their position at the base of the staircase. A couple of moments later, Private First Class Holland Hoss and Private Nathanial Balsach were replacing the two women in HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, releasing them to bound forward. Sara and Sam moved together, keeping at the same pace and line with each other without words as the Corpsman passed each member of TEAM LION as she went deeper into the corridor to their next position; the turbolift that would take them keelward towards the Engine Room in Decks Nine and Ten in the two stern Sub-Decks that were separated from their companion Sub-Decks at the bow. It took them several moments to reach their destination, moving at a half-time pace with their weapons up and pointing at the turbolift door as they past guest room doors and intersections, finally passing Auntie and Garrus' position. Sara and Sam reached the closed door, and Sara called out _'set'_.

" _Prepare to clear turbolift."_ Auntie ordered them as Ryder readied her M-37 Falcon by flipping the engagement switch to 'fun', while the Butcher locked her Nexus ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle on her chest and pulled out her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver in her left hand and her Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol in her right. They stood to either side of the access door, nodding once to each other.

"Tali? Open stern turbolift access." Ryder called out, and the door opened as both women rounded the corner to clear the conveyance.

It was empty.

"Clear!" The Corpsman called out.

Captain Jane Shepard let out a sigh of relief as they finally finished clearing the Engine Room, the _Horizons'_ MERKAVA fifteen PetaWattz engine running at a low-powered state, enough to keep artificial gravity, environmentals, inertia dampeners, and orbit. Tali'Zorah had re-routed power from a few unnecessaries to bring the Cruiser-Class vessel into a lockdown, but for the most part the _Horizon_ was only running at fifteen percent power; enough to keep them from crashing into either Rayingri or Vahtz. When the Geth had decided to fuck with the _Horizon_ , they had pulled the engines off from the electronic servers, meaning that manual control would be needed until the lines were reconnected to where the Bridge could control the engine and power once more. It seemed… odd. Why turn a ship into a Flying Dutchman, park it in between two crashing planets, and leave it with next to no power? Bait was the only thing that came to mind, but Jannie would assume that at the very worst, a responder would only lose a small team to the Husk, and then put rounds through the vessel and sink it to impact on one of the planets. Not much in the way of bait.

"Okay, folks." The Human SPECTRE announced, looking at her twelve-man team that had cleared and secured the large Core Room, finding no bodies in the compartment, either living or dead. Something was off, something was wrong, but it hadn't happened yet. Whatever it was, Jannie doubted TEAM LION would be enough if it were a shitstorm. Her first guess was that the Geth had likely fucked several programs over into self-replicating software to infect other ships that encountered the _Horizon_ , using the Liner as bait for rescue attempts. Probably the only reason it hadn't happened yet was that the SSV _Normandy_ was a stealth ship, and the Geth utterly reliant on electronic sensors, in which the vessel was invisible. "Core is secure. Chief Holloway? I want three Engineers transported from the _Normandy_ to the _Horizon_ with the intent to jump-start this vessel into maneuvers. There's a small maintenance airlock on the aft portion of the keel connecting to the Engine Room, and that will be the insertion point."

" _Yes, ma'am."_ The Air Force pilot replied from the UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Vessel, the _Rey Kenobi_ having been on stand-by for the mission to be flexed out for whatever was needed.

" _Permission to do medical evaluation?"_ Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder asked, her best friend and Second looking to her through the visor of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, standing beside Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong, who was standing against a bulkhead, sagging against it. For the past few minutes, he had moving as if he were the worse for wear. He had been stabbed earlier by a Husk (Jannie hadn't seen it happen) and the Lancie looked to be in real pain, having toughed it out for the past half-hour or so.

"Granted." Shepard nodded, knowing that medical evaluations general came _after_ situations unless the wound was dire. Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk had been shot in the chest, right in the region of his lung and heart, forcing Sara to excuse herself from an active firefight to administer life-saving actions. She had been back in the fight no more than thirty seconds later, having plugged the wound with Kurlex, inducing a needle decompression, and administering an IV filled with HeXtend fluids. That had been a medical trauma rated as an 'Urgent-Surgical', where MEDEVAC was needed in less than thirty minutes. Sara's actions had kept Holodansk alive for well over an hour in a cave, through movement, and on the surface of Therum. Sara was a Doc through-and-through. For Jeong, he had a more 'Routine' injury, meaning it was prioritized last. But since they were at their objective, the area was secured, and none of TEAM LION was a rated Coreman, now was the perfect time for Ryder to check on K-Pop's injury. "Bra? You're Doc's nurse." Private First Class Louis Broussard nodded as he moved to where Sara was gently aiding Hong to a sitting position. The other Marines were holding position by the Engine Room's closed-and-locked door, pulling security along with Urdnot Wrex, the Krogan big game hunter cradling his Nakmor Arms' Graal Hunting Shotgun, ready to obliterate anything that might try to force its way through the door.

"Captain? I have a feeling." Detective Garrus Vakarian approached her, the helmet to his Rapid Response Unit-issued Armax Arsenals' Predator H-Series Armor taken off to reveal his plated face, fringe, and cobalt colonial markings. The Turian Rapid Response Sniper stood next to her, his flanged voice soft enough to keep to her ears and her ears alone as Jannie took off her own SPECTRE helmet, the helmet retracting and semi-collapsing itself to a point behind her neck for quick deployment. "This vessel, I think it's merely a distraction to the real threat. Any military vessel that discovered the possibility that there would be little left to save here would merely hole the ship and crash it to deny the Geth the vessel. One would lose perhaps a rescue team at most as oppose to several in a real trap. This isn't _the_ effort; it doesn't add up."

"I was thinking the same thing." Shepard replied, looking to Vakarian. True, she didn't like Turians, though in recent years she had gotten better to identify individuals worth looking past their species. Garrus Vakarian was Academy-trained, a part of Hierarchy Special Forces, a Shanxi Vet (for the Turians), a Detective for the most elite law enforcement branch in the galaxy, the C-SEC Special Crimes Unit, and a Sniper in what most considered the best SWAT unit in the galaxy, C-SEC's Rapid Response Unit. How Garrus wasn't a SPECTRE himself was honestly lost on Jannie. His armor and weapons were damn good instruments that he had furthered modified to be even better, his skills were exemplary, and tactically he was damn near without flaw. The redhead wasn't exactly sure if she were 'better' than him, and if they had been put in an equal status with equal equipment, Jannie wouldn't be sure if she _could_ come out on top. That only spoke of Vakarians' dedication and professionalism. He was absolutely lethal ad long range, medium range, and close range, with a deep knowledge of tactics and positions, an expert at basic and advanced maneuvers and techniques. Jannie was publicly considered one of the best _Human_ combatants, but stacked against a Turian contemporary? She now knew what the differences were. No wonder why some of the non-Humans held Terrans in such contempt; they really were a few rungs down on the ladder for some really good reasons. "The _Xterra_. I think it's a Flying Dutchman." The Turian looked at her with a cocked head, obviously not getting the reference. "A ghost ship of the damned meant to lure sailors to their doom. This ship, on the other hand? It's a Judas Goat; a tied-up piece of prey meant to lure in a predator so the hunter can kill it, losing the prey in the process."

"Yes, that would make sense. I don't see what the Geth would need for a vessel of such size and… leave it in such an unlikely location save to bring out the ship-hunters." The former Blackwatch Sniper nodded. "The _Normandy_ didn't contact this vessel, nor did it fire upon it. There must be Geth in this system, in a dormant sate perhaps, but they can't 'see' the target because we haven't presented one. I believe you are right, the SSV _Xterra_ is your 'Trojan Horse' to board and assimilate vessels with Geth software and Husks. Killing Humanity piecemeal at a time…"

" _HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"_

The sound of Private Louis Broussard's voice shouting out as both Brassiere and Doc Ryder jumped backwards a good meter had Jannie grabbing at her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol on her left thigh, drawing it and extending it into combat operations in one smooth motion as her attention went to the scene. Both Marine and Corpsman were looking towards Lance Corporal Jeong, their expressions… shocked. Bra was hoisting his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, pointing it at the Marine sitting on the floor and leaning against the bulkhead while Sara drew her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, the Mammothkiller's barrel pointing at the deck above them instead of aiming. Her face was a mask of… confusion, shock, pain.

Jannie looked to Lancie Jeong… and felt her heart leap up in her throat.

"Oh my fucking God…" Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams spoke as she moved to see what had startled the Marine and Corpsman, and the Colonial Soldiers' jaw dropped. "What in the good Goddamn fuck…?" Her tone was in revolting awe as everyone was staring at K-Pop.

Jannie looked at the Marine in question, his helmet off for a standard medical assessment by Doc Ryder. When he had taken his helmet off, it had sparked the reaction that had everyones' attention on the Lance Corporal. Shepard looked at the Marine sitting there with his sallow pale skin, sunken eyes, tufts of hair having come off from his head, his lips pulled back, cracked and parched, while a web of black spidery lines grew from his neck appeared from above his Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor, his veins engorged, distended, and discolored to an almost violet hue. Yet it was his eyes that told his story, his normally-dark _Orient_ irises having paled to a vibrant blue color while his sockets leaked a thick fluid, staining his cheeks a blackish color. What was worse was that his skin was so taunt and emaciated that it was pulling apart along his eyes and jawline, revealing a horrifying desiccated-looking flesh underneath with bluish lines running through it.

There was no denying it.

Lance Corporal Hong Jeong was turning in to a Husk.

* * *

Author's Notes: An ode to that one Red Shirt in _Star Trek: First Contact_ , where I got this idea. I scoured Ye Ole Internet for some ideas to include the 'Take Earth Back' ME3 Trailer, some stuff from DeviantART and Tumblr, and ended up finding a great 'conversion' from PandaHart on Tumblr that was spooky as hell, showing a half-converted human-husk hybrid looking in the mirror. I did mention that to resist was futility at the very top, didn't I? I wasn't trying to be charming.

Poor K-Pop :'( Sorry, But I rolled a dice and it came up with you.

mERC Chat: Actually mIRC Chat, Internet Relay Contact, popular back in the 90's before MySpace (God... did I just reference _MySpace?!_ ) and the inception of social media messengers.

I mention in the previous chapter (and this one) about military actions that involve persons not yet to be adults. Child-soldiers are rife in Africa and the Middle East, and I'm sad to say that I've seen plenty. Think that's wrong? It happens in America, too, but with gangs.

Cradle Of Filth is a Real-Life Extreme Metal Band, in which _Nymphetamine Fix_ (not Nymphetamine Girl) is one of their songs. For the purposes of this universe, it is a blend of Batarian Rock (which is quite popular according to canon) and Asari choral singing, which one finds in the song. What Sara sings are some of the actual lyrics from the female co-singer.

Merkava - Hebrew: 'Chariot'. It is also the name of the main battle tank of the Israeli Defense Force's Armored Corps. It is the equal of, if not better than, the American M1 Abrams and the British Challenger-2. For some reason, unofficial Mediterranean forces (ie., fucking _Hezbollah_ ) think cute cheap decades-old Russian-made rocket rounds (ie., RPG's) will dent this thing. HAHAHAHA!

The Flying Dutchman - There's a myriad of legends about this ghost ship, everything from the ship of the damned to the eternal castaway.

Judas Goat - One ties a goat to a tree to lure in a wolf. When the wolf gets dinner, you shoot the wolf. Thus why it has the name of the Betrayer; the wolf and goat get betrayed. If you've ever watched the cartoon version of "Peter And The Wolf", the little bird is the Judas Goat.


	24. A Forest Of Spines, IV

" _Captain… please! H-Help me." -Ensign Dan McGee,_ _Star Trek: First Contact_ _, 1996_

 **ACV** _ **Horizon**_ **, Rayingri/Vahtz Space, Gagarin System, Armstrong Nebula, July 5, 2183**

Author's Note: In commemoration of my 10,000th read (3/7 - 7/17, 132 days), I give you this chapter. Enjoy!

Sara is an EMT/Navy Corpsman. Now we get to use it. It won't be any easy read; it wasn't an easy write.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder was looking at a nightmare.

Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong was resting against the bulkhead of the Engine Room of the ACV _Horizon_ , armored in his Kass Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor save for his helmet. He had been stabbed in the ankle earlier by a Husk during their engagement with the assimilated Humans on Deck Eight, the first time they encountered the entities aboard the Earth-Alliance Carnival Cruise Liner Carrier-Class Vessel.

That incident had been approximately an hour ago.

But now… oh God, K-Pop was being assimilated before her very eyes.

Sara had helped the Lancie take his helmet off to check his vitals, her medical suite in her OmniTool good, but the Corpsman preferred doing actual physical assessments as combat armor and the various softwares and technologies incorporated could throw off readings. When she had done so and had seen Hong's face, both herself and Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard had seen what had become of the Marine, both of them jumping back in horror. Jeong's flesh looked ready to rip off on his face, splitting in several places, showing blackened-looking skin underneath with almost-glowing neon-like wiring embedded. Sara could see that his eyes were leaking vitreous humours, the fluids inside the optical organ, though the fluids were almost blackish in nature. His eyes were shriveled and sunken, his eye sockets seemingly swallowing his eyes up as his lips were pulled back in a rictus grin, peeling and cracked as they exposed bleeding gum and bloody teeth. His skin was sallow, pale, pulled taunt over the bones of his skull while veins were engorged, the flesh bloated over the vessels, decorated black. Not one drop of blood he was exhuming was coming out any sort of reddish color, bright or dark. It was blackish, thick, and ran slowly.

"Doc, I'm not feeling so good."

"I'm here, Hong." Sara ignored the horrifying visage of Jeong as she took a knee in front of him, magnetically unlocking her AidBag as she kept a hand near her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver while Brassiere aimed his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle at the infected Marine, ready to shoot at a moments' notice. "T-tell me what you're feeling."

"Pins and needles feeling is everywhere, Doc." Hong licked at his cracked and peeling lips with a blackened, shriveled tongue. "Chest feels like it's on fire. Eyes are hot. My brain feels like it's in a vice. And I'm so tired."

"Stay with me, K-Pop." Sara encouraged, putting on her 'Paramedic' face that she learned while as a CitEMS Emergency Medical Technician working on _Skybulance-37_. One did not tell a patient that they were going to die, not even if they were trying to ballistic breach Death's Door. Sara learned under the tutelage of Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis that one kept a patient talking and awake, no matter how severe the symptoms. One also reassured them that the Health Care Provider in question was helping, to keep the patient describing their level of pain and where it was located, no matter how benign or badly worded. Sara had her AidBag open in front of her, the hardcase opening up like a claim to display her various tools, bandages, devices, and medications, all organized inside. She remembered asking Chief Shayla once what to do whenever the young EMT encountered something she had never seen before.

" _It is easy, little one." The Chief had told her with a smile, calling Sara by her 'pet' name, the Asari Emergency Care Technician semi-adopting the young Human woman who worked on her_ Skybulance. _"To keep a sapient alive, all one must do is to keep them talking. If they cannot talk, then one must keep them breathing. If they cannot breath, then one must keep their hearts active and administer assisted-breathing techniques, be it device or personally-assisted. There is nothing so strange that common techniques will not serve. If it bleeds, stop it. If it is ill, hamper it. If the hearts stop…"_

"Defibrillation." The Corpsman said to herself, knowing what she needed to do. She had no idea what was happening to Jeong, not in a medical sense, but she knew that it was artificial. Artificial meant inorganic material, likely synthetic.

That meant it needed a power source… but all things could only withstand a certain amount.

"Bra, I need you to take of K-Pop's chestpiece and physically cut his ballistic bodysuit right down the middle, from collar bone to groin." Ryder was in full 'Doc'-mode. Someone or some _thing_ was trying to kill one of her Marines, but they were going to have to go through her first. Broussard blanched a little at the order, but he complied as he magnetically-locked his Karseus against his chest and went to a knee, unlocking Jeong's chest piece off and tossing it aside before drawing his SAMC-issued KABAR and cutting a line through the durable material meant to help cushion trauma from round strikes when they hit the armor after kinetic shielding failed. Sara was pulling out her portable defibrillator, powering up the Universal Power Cell inside her AidBag meant to power some of her instruments. She was connecting the leads to the device as Louis grabbed the bodysuit and ripped it in half, exposing K-Pop's chest.

"Oh… oh fuck, man…" Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss muttered, obviously seeing what everyone else was seeing. The Corpsman winced at the sight of Jeong's chest; it was like his face, but much worse. It looks a great deal more like what a Husk looked like, with the skin ripped around the pectoral muscles and ribs. He didn't have much time.

"Sara, what are you doing?" Captain Jane Catherine Shepard asked from behind her, the Level Three SPECTRE's tone worried.

"Exorcism." The Petty Officer replied as she put a lead by Hong's right shoulder, just above the collar bone, and the other just under his left armpit. Humans were, by nature, semi-conductive, and that meant while electricity _could_ pass through them when connect to two points, it didn't always do so evenly, as planned, or similar from one event to the next. Still, it was well known that having a lead by the heart would _shock_ the heart if in cardiac arrest, potentially bringing a patient back to life.

Doing so to a living person generally killed them.

"Hong?" Sara looked to the Marine as she toggled the portable defibrillator, setting it to its maximum charge of five hundred amperes; twice as much as was necessary for a prolonged cardiac arrest for a Human Being, and in fact a setting meant for species with multiple hearts, like Turians and the Asari. The Marine looked to her, his eyes barely opened, and seemingly deep in his sockets. "Hong? I'm going to barbecue you. There's something inside that medication _can't_ solve, so I'm going to toast it with electricity instead. It will be very fast, and it's going to fucking hurt."

"Do it, Doc." The Lance Corporal replied, his voice weak… and not exactly Human. There was a bit of an electronic buzz to his words, as if talking through a distorted speaker. "I trust you, just…

"…just don't let me come back like one of _them_."

"That's the plan, K-Pop. Clear!" Everyone took a respectful step back to avoid touching the Marine as Sara toggled the defibrillator and sent five hundred amperes of electricity right through Hong Jeong's heart, depolarizing the sinoartial node, Jeong's natural pacemaker.

The electrocardiogram reading attached to the defibrillator let out a long, non-ending tone; asystole.

Sara went to work, ignoring all else. Years of training and dedication had her calm and focused, everything else around her fading into the background as she entered into battle with the most ancient of enemies; Death itself. She pulled out a laryngoscope and a tracheal intubation tube, inserting the metal bridge into the right side of Jeong's mouth, rotating it to the left to slide his shriveled tongue out of the way while pushing it towards the roof of his mouth so she could view his glottis, vocal cords, and trachea. Sara winced at the sight of the changed anatomy, noting it for future reference as she slid the tracheal intubation tube in to the Lance Corporal's throat until it reached the bronchial tree. She removed the laryngoscope with her left hand and pulled out a Continuous Positive/Negative Airway Pressure machine to induce pulmonary functions, setting the device for five second change overs.

Ryder got onto her knees right next to Jeong, placing the heel of her left hand right over the plural space of his cardiac cavity, overlapping it with her right hand, setting her shoulders and locking her elbows as she began to press downward in fast, even compressions, manually contracting and releasing the Marine's heart to simulate a pulse. Sara used her upper body weight and her shoulders to push down at a rate of one per second, compressing Hong's heart. She kept an eye on the EKG, noting that K-Pop had Pulseless Electrical Activity; there was still electrical activity in his heart, but it wasn't beating on its own. That was pretty normal for cardiac arrest… if the patient in question wasn't a nineteen year old healthy Human male. Her shoulders kept pumping up and down as she continued cardiac compressions, force-feeding oxygenated blood into his cardiopulmonary system, specifically his brain. A Human brain could survive oxygen deprivation for eight minutes, but fifteen with Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation.

"C'mon." Ryder kept her eye on the EKG readout, seeing the time elapse reach one minute. "Clear!" She defibrillated Jeong again, watching his heart rate plummet to zero; a true flatline. _That's where I want you,_ Sara thought as she went to the settings of her portable defibrillator and began reprogramming it. It wasn't amps that she needed now.

"Sara…" Auntie said softly, but Doc ignored it. She was too focused.

"I'm inverting the power." Sara explained briefly as she toggled the defibrillator's power setting, knowing that it could put out a kilowatt. She lowered the Ampere setting… and in response the voltage was increased. _Current time voltage equals watts, so watts divide by current equals voltage_ , Sara did the math in her head, knowing what she needed; ten _thousand_ volts. She changed the setting to a deciAmp, and the voltmeter read ten thousand; enough to shock every muscle and fiber in a man's body into an automated reflex response colloquially known as 'the Dead Man's Dance'. Ten thousand volts was beyond dangerous; it was four times as much as the old-time capital punishment of the electric chair. But she wasn't trying to kill Jeong.

She was trying to kill what was _inside_.

"Sara…"

"Clear!" Doc sent ten thousand volts through the defibrillator, making the Marines' body spasm violently as she did so, every muscle, fiber, and tendon in Hong's body jerked in reflex, causing him to flop. The EKG had a sharp spike, but otherwise returned to flatline. She moved back over to K-Pop and began performing chest compressions once again, pumping his heart to get oxygen to his brain, to stave off death. She pumped his chest fifteen times, the CPNAP machine 'breathing' in and out every five seconds as she tried to resuscitate the Lance Corporal, her focus only on her task.

She wasn't going to lose another one of her Marines.

"Sara…"

"Clear!" This time, Sara sent two-hundred and forty amps through Hong, enough to start cardiac rhythm. The EKG pulsed a few times in an arrhythmic state, the pulse weak and palpitating; it wasn't beating normally. The sinoartial node of Jeong's heart had just suffered being shocked a few times, but Sara was going to give it a few seconds to correct itself. At the very least, his heart was beating, blood was being pumped through his body and into his brain, oxygenating the organic systems. She was buying him time. "C'mon, Hong. You can do it." Ryder encouraged softly as she looked at the electrocardiogram's registry, seeing the pulse getting stronger, more in sync with a normal rhythm.

" _Sara!"_

"I can do this! I can save him!" The Petty Officer snapped, looking to her Auntie, who was looking at her with… sorrow. Jannie merely nodded her head towards Jeong, and Sara looked to the Marine, and her heart broke at the sight.

His eyes were gone, having leaked out their vitreous humours. Yet they were open, and the inner sockets glowed a hellish blue.

"N-nooo…" The dark lines crawled further up his skin as Sara watched, Hong's skin slowly splitting, peeling away to expose more of what he was becoming. Alliance Federal Marshal Samantha Collins stepped up with her Smith and Wesson in hand, the Butcher holding it downward but ready to fire. A hand went on her forearm, and Ryder saw Louis looking at her, nodding to her once. Sara wiped at a falling tear as she looked to the Marshal and shook her head. "I-it's my job, Sam. Not yours."

"Okay." Collins replied as Sara drew her Mammothkiller and put the barrel into Hong's chest, right where his heart laid. She saw him move, his mouth opening up, a wordless growl coming to his nearly-shriveled lips, having pulled so far back and peeled away so much that they were nearly gone. There was nothing Human in his voice anymore.

"You enjoy Heaven, brother." Ryder whispered as she cocked back the hammer on her revolver.

And pulled the trigger.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) saw Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams open the maintenance airlock located on the aft portion of the Engine Room to admit three Naval Coremen, Able Seaman Cindy Hefner, Petty Officer (Third Class) Oliver Greer, and Ensign Lyle Jefferson exiting the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Vessel _"Rey Kenobi"_ and boarding the ACV _Horizon_. Each of them were armored in Aldrin Labs' Onyx Light Armor, the SSV _Normandy_ still in Red Alert where all crew was required to be fully-suited for possible combat and hull breaches. Each were also armed with Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Combat Pistols in case of engagement upon another vessel. Jannie saw Mark's hand in this, no doubt assigning the weapons more for the reassurance on the Engineers' parts instead of any actual assistance they could give in case of boarding or assault.

"Ma'am, we're ready to begin getting the ship underway." Ensign Jefferson come up to her, saluting her as he spoke. He had graduated the Naval Academy less than seven weeks before, having graduated in the top ten percentile of his class. He had been an addition she had gained on Arcturus, someone to stand Watch over the Engine during the Night Watch when Lieutenant Adams was off-duty. It marked the first time she had addressed the Ensign, though she had seen him on several occasions in the Officers' Galley as well as the Engineering Deck just off of the Cargo Bay.

"Very good, Ensign." The Captain nodded her head once. "Link comms with Specialist Zorah to sync systems with the Bridge. She'll be piloting the vessel back to Alliance Space, so we need a firm handshake and enough systems to make a translation from this system to the Attican Beta Cluster." It was the nearest 'official' Systems Alliance-held location, well within Earth Alliance Space and patrolled by the fleets. The Hercules System, where the Mass Relay terminator was for the Armstrong Nebula, had the Seventh Reconnaissance Flotilla in its battlespace, defending the primary Mass Relay for the cluster, as well as its two Alliance colonies; Amarestu and Feros. Shepard had already established what team members would go onto the _Rey_ to be relocated to the Bridge, to hold the two most vital points of the ship in defense while transporting the _Horizon_ to Alliance-held space. Instead of having four members unnecessarily endangering themselves moving through the vessel once more, Agent Zevin Raeka, Marshal Samantha Collins, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Lance Corporal Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantuwould be flown back to the breech point that had been left as a potential escape route if needed, an access way that they could control. Tali had already locked down the turbolift, leaving the conveyance on the Command Deck to halt any potential crawlers from climbing the turbolift shaft and prying the doors open, the lift itself a blockade. Unless there were ventilation shafts _not_ on the ships schematics that something could crawl through, the Bridge was locked down airtight. The Core Room was as well.

"Detective?" Detective Garrus Vakarian looked to her, his helmet off, his left eye obscured by his RRU-issued Kuwashii Visor, cradling his Elanus Risk Control Services' Rapid Response Unit-issued M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle in his talons. "You have the deck." The Turians' slightly ovaloid eyes darted towards another part of the Core Room, nodding in understanding as he took a couple of steps closer.

"She's handling better than I would have were I in her position." The Special Crimes Detective murmured between his mandibles, glancing at Jannie before his sight went back to whom he was referring to. "She didn't give up or give in, no matter how hopeless it seemed. In her mind, that could have been you. Or even me."

"I know." Jannie sighed, knowing that Garrus was right as she folded her arms across her chest, looking in the same direction as Vakarian was. "I don't think there was a chance in hell, but Sara isn't built that way. If… if we had a chance to think it out, during the first few minutes right after? Yeah, I think she could have done something about it, even if it was an amputation. We were… too late, and she's the one who takes in the hurt." The N7 knew why Sara Ryder became an EMT even if the fifteen-year old young woman never said, not even to this day; her mother. Sara was an extraordinarily smart woman, and reaching a problem she couldn't out-think or outsmart was practically anathema to her. Jannie knew without being told that Sara had based her _life_ upon the fact that her mother had been deathly ill with an incurable cancer and there was nothing that the young woman could do about it. Thirteen-year old Sara Ryder had begun taking courses on Basic First Aid and Basic Nursing via ExtraNet classes and lessons to care for her mother upon learning of Doctor Ellen Ryder's condition, continuing to do so while she was at the Presidium Academy of Education on the Citadel by striving to be a Paramedic. Her being an EMT and later a Corpsman was really her way of saving lives to balance out the one life she _couldn't_ save; her mother's.

But now they were facing something worse than Aggressive Entropic Neurological Dystrophy.

Jannie found Sara sitting down and leaning against a bulkhead away from the rest of TEAM LION, silent and despondent. Seeing her in such a state had Shepard's' heart breaking a little, remembering how Sara was when Aunt Ellen had finally passed away after five heroic years fighting Eezo Cancer. Oh, she knew the truth now; SAM. Uncle Alec had broken every rule and law, had defied fate and reason to save his wife and the mother of his children, and Jannie didn't blame him one bit. So he created an Artificial Intelligence to save lives? More power to him. He had obviously thrown his career in the Alliance Navy away for Ellen, and to buy the woman he loved five more precious years? Jannie sincerely doubted Alec had one Goddamn regret, letting Ellen live longer and in comfort, long enough to see her children graduate Boot Camp, to see her twin children as _adults_. Alec had done _everything_ a man was suppose to do for his family. The galaxy could use a few more people like him.

A pity her mother was pretty much the complete opposite of Uncle Alec.

The N7 sat next to Sara and slid next to her, seeing the twenty-year old woman sitting there with her knees folded to her chest, hugging them. Jannie didn't need to be told how Sara was feeling; all the visual cues were there. Sara was a lifesaver, as simple as that. All of her education, all of her experience, everything that she was, Sara had the desire to save lives, to be there when someone needed her most, to bring them back from the brink. The brunette had never been one to fail at anything, taking difficulties and solving them. Having lost her Marines on Therum had been a blow, but realistically there was nothing she could have done. Private Mikael Holodansk had been treated by her, but circumstances had been out of her control. Logically, Sara knew that, but Jannie knew that in Ryders' heart Blowjob had died under her watch and care. Now there was Lance Corporal Hong Jeong.

"Hey, kiddo." The redhead slid her arm around Sara's shoulders, scooting over to where they were practically connected at the hip. It was easy to tell that Sara had been crying, her eyes raw and puffy. _Oh, Sara… how I wish I could protect your wonderful heart_ , Jannie thought as she pulled Sara closer, the young woman resting her head on the redhead's armored shoulder as Jannie comforted her. "Proud of you."

"How? Why?" Ryder's voice came, raw and croaking, still mangled by grief. "I couldn't save him."

"But you didn't let that stop you." Shepard reminded the Corpsman, resting her own head on Sara's, remembering the days where Sara was but a little girl, a kid in Cit-oriented childs' robes laughing and playing with her twin brother, their 'Auntie' taking them around the Cit for day trips of fun and mischief. Jannie had spent months at a time with the Ryders' whenever her mother shipped out, or her duties required her to elsewhere other than her Pinnacle Station housing-allotted apartment. Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer, her stepfather, really wasn't more than a stranger to her, the two of them never warming up, mostly thanks to her mother and… yeah, okay, Jannie had something to do with it, too. Hell, Jannie had a little brother she'd practically never met! Nathan was… fifteen now? Sixteen? "Sara, I thought it was hopeless, that there was no saving him. Yet your profession asks for just that; to give people that chance, no matter how hopeless it might be. You didn't give up, give in, or shirk from your duties. You did what you always do, Sara; you stepped up and faced the challenge willingly, no matter the odds or difficulties. I've never known you to actually fail at anything. Perhaps not succeed, but you've never let that stop you. You learn from it and find a way to improve, to make yourself better for the next time."

"I just… God, he didn't deserve that, Auntie. None of them did." Sara sniffled, her thoughts obviously on the people on the _Horizon_. "What a horrifying way to go. Death can be so cruel, and it seems the Geth went and one-up'ed that. As if just shooting us wasn't enough. _Vracking_ bastards." That had Jannie snort a little as she continued to comfort her friend and sister, hearing her swear in Common Cipritine, the Cit-born in her coming out as it always did whenever she was truly emotional, happy or sad. "Permission to bring his body back for autopsy and evaluation? If I couldn't save _his_ life, perhaps I can learn how it happened. Perhaps I can find something to slow the process down, maybe even reverse it."

"Permission granted." The Captain replied, knowing what Sara was going to do. The Corpsman was going to medically dissect Lance Corporal Jeong and find out _how_ the Geth had done it, what the mechanism and process was. Then she was going to work upon something to halt it, to save lives. At the cost of a life, she was going to bulldoze a way into saving others. _That_ was her Sara, the little newborn Jannie held in her hands the day she was born, blue eyes looking into her own contained in such a precious, fragile package, looking at nine-year old Jannie Shepard in wondering awe. The redheaded girl had felt so touched by the moment, feelings of love and affection for the newborn washing over her as she held the little girl close, remembering her first words to baby Sara Elaine Ryder; _I'm your Auntie, I'll be here for you always_. Shepard smiled at the memory, still holding Sara close, still there for her. It was a promise she had always kept, and had been reciprocated by Sara, too. When Jannie graduated the Military Academy, Sara had been at the ceremony, cheering her Auntie on. When the N7 had walked in on her husband Mark sleeping with another woman, it had been Sara's shoulder she had eventually cried into, the sixteen-year old young woman holding onto her as Jannie bawled her eyes out. Elysium. Therum. Today.

Sara had her Auntie. And even Lions had their Angels.

* * *

It took almost an hour for the ACV _Horizon_ to get underway, and Commander Mark Vanderloo had been hard at work during that time. He and Captain Jane Shepard had spoke at length about the situation the Carnival Cruise Ship represented; a Geth effort that they weren't sure about concerning the endgame. That the ship was a Trojan Horse or a Judas Goat seemed apparent, but no Geth had been spotted on the sensors of the SSV _Normandy_ , its multiple reconnaissance probes, or the combined experience of the CIC. Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley studied the map of the Gagarin System, the up-to-date map populated with the current position of planets, satellites, belts, comets, debris, and other junk that a solar system contained. The Navigator was all but sure that the Geth were hiding _somewhere_ , ready to spring a trap not on the _Horizon_ , but on the rescue vessel coming to the _Horizon's_ aid. Perhaps with the intent to destroy, or perhaps to make another Trojan Horse. Mark couldn't fault the man for his logic, because it would be an effective strategy if true. While Vanderloo worked out the logistics of the trip bringing the _Horizon_ to the Attican Beta Cluster, Pressley worked the angles for anything that could harm the _Normandy_ or the _Horizon_.

The request for assistance in the move had been denied by the Alliance Admiralty Board on Arcturus Station, citing that they had no vessels to spare.

What a crock of shit.

"Weapons? Launch five signal probes on this plane, to the ecliptic of Gagarin, towards LaGrange Point Three."

"Aye Aye, Nav." Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele acknowledged before toggling her work station at the CIC, turning on her communicator on her terminal. "Gunnery? Give me a Wolf Pack."

Nav had come up with a trick borne out of a World War.

The issue was that the _Normandy_ would be forced to escort the ACV _Horizon_ from Rayingri/Vehtz to the Mass Relay, translating to the Attican Beta Cluster and landing in the Hercules System, and escorting it to the Seventh Reconnaissance Flotilla holding station above Amarestu. The SSV _Normandy_ was an amazing ship, Mark would be the first to admit, but it was a terrible escort. Its main offensive weapon was _stealth_ , with its Internal Emissions System collecting its thermal waste to avoid being easily detected by any scanners, active or passive. Since thermal imagine was the easiest and most effective form of detecting vessels in space, it all but guaranteed that the Frigate would be next-to-impossible to detect. With the addition of its signal-scattering and light-absorbing paneling along the hull, denying the other effective methods of detection, the _Normandy_ could theoretically fly up right next to a ship and only be spotted by means of the naked eye; a feat near impossible in the vastness of space. Vanderloo knew every timeline in which the _Normandy_ could run in stealth depending on its thermalization, and a few tricks to increase that time.

It was a first-strike vessel, not a warship or an escort.

Charles had been hard at work in finding ways to 'spoof' what was going to happen by throwing their scent in case anyone came sniffing, from pirates to the Geth. Flying a CAP for a Cruiser was generally the job for a Wolf Pack; a five-Frigate squadron. Combat Attack Patrols were loud, in the Navy sense, using LADAR and active scans to detect threats, being easily identified as others as a threat. While the _Horizon_ was on the move from Rayingri to the Mass Relay, Lieutenant Charles Pressley used a tactic from the old _Operation: Overlord_ invasion to make it look like there were more Alliance forces than there really were by launching modified signal probes to 'look' like _Hastings_ -Class Alliance Frigates. OmniGel-crated plates would be distributed to radiate heat to look like a low-powered _Hastings_ Frigate drifting as if prowling for enemy combatants, pinging LADAR sweeps for active detection ever few minutes. It was a ruse that generally did well flushing out pirates and slavers since it was only a ruse half the time, the other half of the time actually being a real Wolf Pack of Pirate Hunters.

Now it would be time to see if the trick worked with the Geth.

"Rey _to_ Normandy _, Valkyrie request dock to drop off two and redeploy at this time. ETA two mikes out."_ The voice of Warrant Officer Patricia Holloway came over the CIC's speaker, the Personal Vehicle Pilot flying the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Utility Transportation Vessel, the lone Air Force member coming highly recommended through Rear Admiral Steven Hackett for her gallantry during the Skyllian Blitz. Chief Holloway had thirty-seven combat drops to her name during the various actions during the Blitz, to include Camala, one of the massive strikes the Alliance had against Hegemony holdings. It didn't surprise Vanderloo at all that Admiral Hackett, a former shuttle pilot himself, had something of a platonic love for rockjumpers like Chief Holloway. Her three Bronze Stars with Valor Devices spoke for themselves, and her nickname had been given to her by Systems Alliance Marines; _die Valkyrie_ , the Battle Angel of the Gods. The woman was pretty much certifiably insane; perfect, considering she chauffeured a SPECTRE nowadays.

"Request granted, Valkyrie." Mark replied, pressing the toggle on the Captain's Podium to respond to the hail. He knew what Holloway was dropping off. He selected a department on the podium to contact. "XO to MedBay, prepare to receive incoming."

" _Acknowledged, XO."_ Came the cool, refined British accent of Commander Karin Carolyn Chakwas, the Ship's Attending Physician and Surgeon. She had been told what was happening and what to expect. _"Everything is prepped, and I have the_ other _Corpsman relieved and in the main Galley at this time."_

"Good." Mark didn't doubt that their three Hospital Corpsman wouldn't be looking forward to what was going to happen. None of them were rated for the procedure, though he had an idea from his former niece that their youngest Corpsman, Seaman Monica Negulesco, would likely be a good candidate for an assistant, though Ryder was rated as a Surgeon's Mate as well as a Navy Corpsman. Then again, Karin probably wouldn't appreciate someone vomiting all over the MedBay floor, considering. "Navigation, I'm heading to the Cargo Bay. You have the Conn."

"Aye aye, Commander." The Lieutenant Commander saluted him smartly, not needing an explanation. Charles was a smart man, and likely knew what Mark was doing and why. Vanderloo stepped off the Captain's Podium and headed down to the Main Deck to access the cargo elevator to reach the Cargo Bay, having to suffer the eternally-slow conveyance before stepping off and entering the Orlop Deck where Engineering, Maintenance, and Cargo were located. He came just in time to see the _Rey Kenobi_ setting down upon the deck, steam waifing off the exterior hull from its trip through the Horn of Rayingri/Vahtz. The Commander reached the deployment doors of the UT-47 as they opened and found himself face-to-face with Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder, kneeling next to an occupied contragravity spineboard that had been magnetically-fixed to the shuttles' deck. On the spineboard was a black bag, occupant one.

"I'll get the front." Mark told the Corpsman, seeing her helmeted head nod once in acknowledgment as the SPECTRE's Second took the back end of the stretcher, hitting a button to release the MagLocs and activate the mass dampeners and contragravity device. Mark took the handles to the front and eased the spineboard out of the raised deck of the _Rey_ as Sara guided it forward, carefully stepping off the shuttle and calling out _'clear'_ to Chief Holloway, the Colonial Air Force Pilot acknowledging back and spinning up the UT-47 as Mark reversed his grip so he could face forward and guide the stretcher to the cargo elevator. A part of him realized that this was what Sara had once done as a profession back on the Cit as a _Skybulance_ Paramedic, hoisting spineboards out of her Asari-designed _Shu'pari_ -'57 Medical Transportation Vessel with some sapient in need of trauma care. The spineboard eliminated most of the mass of the occupant, and was designed more for dealing with elevations such as stairs or ramps in mind without encountering resistance as Vanderloo entered the elevator and pivoted the contraption so that Ryder could push the rest of the stretcher in horizontally while he toggled the conveyance to go to the Main Deck.

"You didn't have to do this." Sara said softly after she toggled for her helmet to collapse, folding away to the back of her armored cowl around her neck.

"He's a part of my crew too, Sara." The Commander replied, meaning every word. As Navy, his fights were in space, and the only casualties he saw were his own; Alliance vessels suffering damage from hits from GARDIAN lasers, MAC cannons, main guns, missiles, and mines. He never saw the enemy save on sensors. He had dedicated himself into being better so that he could justify himself into making his crew better; one did not expect the best out of others without being the best themselves. His goal was to have missions with zero fatalities; a rare thing, but a completely worthy endeavor. So far, the _Normandy_ hadn't succeeded yet, though their losses were gratefully small. But they still counted.

"As are you."

Once upon a time, Sara Ryder had been his niece; married to Jane Shepard, her family became his family, too. Mark had been rather disappointed in the family that God had let him be born to, and had found his wife's extended family to be rather over-the-top. Most all of them were members of the Bravest Generation, a part of the legendary group known as the Night Stalkers; the most celebrated and successful unit during the First Contact War. Sara had been the daughter of none other than the legendary Pathfinder, Alec Clancy Ryder, just as Jane had been the daughter of John Michael Shepard, considered the greatest Special Forces operative to have ever lived. He had visited the Ryders' often enough that seeing both Sara and Scott became a normal thing, sometimes the twins returning the favor. In some ways, Sara and Scottie had been almost-kids to him, asking questions and listening to his stories about his service and duty in the Alliance Navy, Cit-born kids almost _desperate_ to connect to Humanity as a whole. He felt closer to them than he ever had to his own older sister, who had run off when she was fifteen to be a drug-addicted whore in Amsterdam. They called him Uncle, and Mark had been rather amused when Scott had jokingly called him _'Unkie'_ to Jane's _'Auntie'_ , what Sara called her. It was a terrible nickname, but Mark had enjoyed it all the same.

"Might want to be careful there, XO." There was a ghost of a smile on Sara's lips, though the stress and the grief of what had happened was still there. "I might just end up finding a way to like you again." He didn't doubt that; Jane and he were working together professionally without any issues, and that no doubt reflected upon Sara as well. If Jane could be nice, Sara would be, too, just like her Auntie. "Just… bad day." Her gaze went to the body bay, her thoughts on what was inside.

"You're doing the right thing, Sara. Right by him, and right by you." Vanderloo replied, knowing what was in the body bag; the body of Lance Corporal Hong Jeong, one of _her_ Marines. Mark knew that Navy Corpsmen saw Marines as no one else's but theirs, having fought long and hard to become a part of that prestigious order of medical provider known as Fleet Marine Force Corpsmen. "If it were me? I would want you to learn all that you could on the hopes you would help someone else in the future, Sara. I know that you're more than smart enough to find a way if one exists. I don't doubt K-Pop would agree to, knowing that he can still save others."

"I know that, logically. Just… my heart…" Yeah, he got that. No matter how tough one was, they were still Human in the end. "I'm going to find out how they did this. If there's a way to halt it, slow it down, reverse it… anything, I'm going to fucking find it." Ryder's blue eyes were hard; it was a promise made, one she fully intended on keeping.

"The Geth are going to regret ever having met you." The cargo elevators' doors opened as Sara flashed him a smile, Vanderloo pulling his end of the stretcher out first and guiding it towards the MedBay. There were Sailors in the the Galley that was connected to the MedBay, those who were off-shift, and the talk went silent as they moved the stretcher into the ships' medical facility, the door opening for them as Commander Chakwas stood aside to give them admittance, already nearly in full BioCom Level Four save for her hood. No one was taking any chances, and as Mark understood it, the ships' surgeon had converted the medical lab behind the MedBay into a quarantine zone for both safety as well as storage. No one was fucking around with the potential possibilities of whatever happened with Jeong, and Chakwas was going to follow safety protocol to the very letter.

"There will be good, Commander." Commander Chakwas' British accent introduced themselves to his thoughts as Mark let go of the stretcher, seeing it hover without his assistance. "The MedBay will be closed for several hours at the very least, and if anything should arise, Able Seamen Basheer and Lowe shall be able to handle any necessaries while Doc Ryder and myself are conducting the autopsy and procedure." Mark noted that even Doctor Chakwas called Sara 'Doc'. Well, she had earned herself a full ride scholarship to John Hopkins University, and Vanderloo hadn't even known that was a possibility for the Medical College.

"Understood." Mark went to leave, but was stopped by Sara, and gentle hand going to his arm, catching him before he left. He saw her blue eyes looking into his own, the stress of the day still etched on her features, her brunette hair held back by both a hairband and a hair-tie to prevent any getting onto her face, opening up her features as she said something that shocked him.

"Thank you… Unkie." That had his throat go dry as Commander Mark Vanderloo nodded once and left the MedBay so that the surgeon and Doc could commence with their operation.

He found himself grinning like an idiot by the time the door closed behind him.

* * *

First Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko stood sentinel upon the Command Deck of the Bridge of the ACV _Horizon_ as Tali'Zorah piloted the vessel out of 'the Horn', the Carrier-Class vessel finally escaping the titanic storm the ran in-between Rayingri and Vahtz. The ride was rough and choppy with turbulence and the lack of inertia dampeners, and though the _Horizon_ weighed in at around one hundred and ninety-two _gigagrams_ , it still got tossed around like a schooner in a storm in the Level Fifteen hurricane that composed of the entirety of the Horn where Rayingri and Vahtz met. XO Mark Vanderloo had probably been ill-advised to take the route from a patrol standpoint, but as a military decision in hostile space? It was the practical choice, no matter the complications. No one in their right damn mind would select being _crushed_ by two planets.

As he understood it, the SSV _Normandy_ had fired a series of probes to imitate a Wolf Pack, and three unknown vessels from the far side of Gagarin had moved to intercept some twenty minutes prior according to probe telemetry.

" _ETA to Gagarin Relay, seventy-four minutes."_ Came the voice of Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, the acting Captain of the _Horizon_ , as well as its pilot. The little Quarian Pilgrim was standing at the holographic suite of the Helm, Haptically controlling the vessel with the aid of her EnviroSuits' on-board systems while using the touch-gesture interfaces of the vessel to pilot it towards the Relay. The unknown vessels had been at the aphelion of the Relay, somewhere near its LaGrange Point Three on the opposite end of the system, moving towards the apogee of the system, too far away to sensor their telemetry, and certainly too far to intercept. Despite the _Horizon's_ flank speed of Mark Five, being half the speed of light, the unknown vessels were at the far end of the system by the planet of Antirumgon heading away to intercept the false hunters while the _Horizon_ made a run for the Relay. Even if the vessels, whether Geth, pirate, or other, pulled a Crazy Ivan and went Mark Nine (if they had the capability), it would take them over eight hours just to reach the _Horizon's_ current position… if they decided to turn off the engines and weight. The Carnival Cruise Liner would reach helioshock in forty-five minutes, and then they would be able to spin up to FTL and make a mad dash for the Tereshkova System, where the Armstrong Nebula's Mass Relay was located. It would be a four-and-a-half hour FTL burn from the Gagarin System to the Tereshkova System, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau having already sent flight telemetry to Tali to avoid other systems' heliospheres to obtain maximum time spent in FTL. Then it would be another two hours before they reached the Relay.

Seven hours spent on a ghost ship filled with the dead and the damned. No pressure, there.

"Credit for your thoughts, Loot?"

Kaidan looked over to Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams, the Colonial Army Soldier having doffed her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor helmet after being shuttled to the Bridge to add to the defense of the location in case there were more Husks or Geth they hadn't encountered yet. Well, at least Geth hardware platforms. For the software that Tali had supposedly encountered in the systems of the _Horizon_ , the Pilgrim had amused herself by purging them with a series of malware attacks, logic bomb programs, and cannibalized TRUE/FALSE error systems before eliminating the threat. In all honestly, Zorah had sounded like a teenager with a brand new ARMMORPG game that she had gotten for Christmas by the way she cackled with glee, saying things like _take that, bosh'tet!_ or _another one for the deletion bin!_ Someone had enjoyed themselves. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal Member snorted at the Army nickname for Lieutenants, and guessed that he should just be happy she actually hadn't used something silly, like _Lost_ or _OPP_ , for Overpaid Private. The Army was almost as bad as the Marines in such things, and that was saying something.

"Tough day." He had heard what happened to Lance Corporal Hong Jeong, the normally-quiet yet stoic Marine. Getting killed while serving one's species was meant to be an honor, bittersweet yet heralded. What had happened to the young man was horrifying, turned into the enemy right before the eyes of his friends and team members. As he understood it, Petty Officer Sara Ryder had made a last-ditch effort to stop the process she had no real experience with, using her intelligence and training to give her Marine a chance at life by temporarily killing him first as quickly as possible before attempting to fry whatever a Husk had injected him with. It hadn't worked, and Sara had delivered the merciful bullet that ultimately kept Jeong from coming back as a Husk herself. That was a hard thing to do, and Alenko had to admit to himself that he respected the Angel of Illyeria, despite his initial misgivings of Captain Jane Shepard including a woman she saw as a family member onto her ground team. Chief Ryder had proved herself time and again that she was the best at what she did, a Navy Corpsman who risked life and limb for crew, in combat and on vessel.

He felt sorry for her, knowing that she had gone back to the _Normandy_ to perform an autopsy along with Commander Chakwas to discover what happened and any means of preventing it from happening again.

"Yeah, I heard that." Ash agreed, her right hand always on the pistol grip of her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, the weapon in full combat operations but maglocked to her chestpiece, ready to pull and fire at the first instance of trouble. The both of them stood at the door of the Turbolift, which was magnetically-sealed. Agent Zevin Raeka had distributed a done for seismic sensors in case there was movement behind the walls or possibly in any kind of maintenance shafts. No one was taking any chances with the Husks or the Geth. "Use to think I knew what a tough day was back in the Slag." That was some codeword reference to the Army, Alenko assumed. "I've popped into a few bad ops back on EP. A smugglers' illegal DZ point, some drug manufacturing complex out in the boonies, pirates who thought their shit didn't stink hitting up some of the more rough-and-tumble bars in Constant. Big one was this massive clearing operation about five years back, back during the Blitz. Bats had a hidey-hole out in the mountains, using illegally-modified clearance codes to look like civvie vessels landing out by the Ada Mountain Range for a hideout. Had to clear out a system of caves, several pre-fabs, and hoofed plenty a slope for dig-ins and hold-outs. Took about two weeks of constant round-the-clock ass-kicking to get the Slugs out of their spelunker hotels. Found a few slave pens. That use to be the bad one before June Sixth." Ash was looking at the maglocked door, but Kaidan knew she was lost in her memories. He himself never saw true combat action during the Blitz, called in to de-install explosives in areas held by friendly forces, or dismantling hard targets with demolitions, again held by Alliance forces. Eden Prime had been his first real firefight, though thankfully years in service meant he was at least as prepared and ready as anyone could be facing the synthetic race from beyond the Perseus Veil.

"Trust me, don't be envious not getting a chance to clear out them halls, Loot."

"Believe me, I'm not wishing that on anyone." The Lieutenant replied, knowing only a little of it. He had kept his SquadComm on to listen to the fight in case something needed to be flexed or something unusual came up. Not that they really had the forces for it, but it was better to stay on top of such things, and who was to say what might have gone down? All he had heard once the firing started was an absolute _barrage_ of gunfire, as if Hell itself had flooded that corridor to release its fury upon the enemy. He knew of the plan, and knew that there was likely no other way it could have been done. Twelve against _thousands_ had his mouth go dry, knowing that Husks sprinted right towards TEAM LION without fear or reservation, being killed in droves. What he remembered hearing were the internal commentaries from some of the members of the team; Ash's prayers had been there, as well as Sara's denials of horror. Some of the Marines were vocal about what they had been seeing, many begging God's forgiveness at their acts. Necessary, but still soul-shaking.

Kaidan wasn't envious at all.

"Want to hear a shitty story?" Alenko looked over to Williams, the Soldier giving him a wry look. "C'mon, Army. Promise it's all about a Butterbar fumbling, Sailors laughing at his expense."

"Well, how could I saw no to that?" Ash smirked, the haunted look in her eyes fading a little bit, the one that she, Marshal Sam Collins, and Lance Corporal Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu all had.

"So, no shit…"

"There I was." Ash obviously knew how a military story began.

"I was a fresh-frocked Ensign on my first boat, the SSV _Civic_." Alenko remembered the Corvette-Class vessel well, a part of Battle Group _Montezuma_. "I had been there all of a week, put on as the Watch Duty Officer of the Engineering Deck for my first assignment. Since Army stares at trees instead of dials," Williams maturely stuck her tongue out at him, "Watch involves making sure that everything runs smooth and proper, that any needs are addressed, and a hand is given to those responsible to fix any issues coming up. For the WuDO, that would be me, my responsibilities entailed that Watch personnel showed up to shift on time, that they were doing their duties correctly, keeping datawork updated and proper, reporting any issues to the Master of the Boat, and sipping coffee." That had Ash snort.

"What? No PowerPoint slides and EN-mails to beat you to death with?"

"Naw, that's when you get a command." Kaidan laughed; guess Navy and Army weren't _too_ different. PowerPoint was the bane of all military existence. Yes, it made for quick and accurate presentations for meetings and OPORDs, but PowerPoint slides were a ridiculous pain in the ass, and nobody liked doing them several times over for accuracy and 'presentation value'. "For the WuDO, it was a terminal with a time schedule, a duty roster, and a laundry list of chores. See me on a terminal in the Galley?" Ash nodded. "I'm the Watch Duty Officer for the Main Deck, and I organize the Watch for the entire deck."

"No shit." Williams looked thoughtful. "Huh, always figured you were, I dunno… secretly playing some mobile app game or whatnot from all the pressing you were doing."

"Yeah, I wish." The Combat Engineer snorted, shaking his head. "No, that's my duty during normal operations, like Sara is a Corpsman in the MedBay when she isn't trying to crack teleportation or some other impossibility with her Sci/Tech Department." Captain Shepard had put together pretty much the five smartest people on the _Normandy_ and tasked them with solving 'anything and everything thrown at us'. The amount of high-grade materials, mods, upgrades, and the state-of-the-air OmniForge meant to craft the best weapons and armors they could come up with was certainly a testament to that endeavor. Sara had mentioned that she had solved Boolian Theory, and Kaidan had looked that up later on. He still wasn't sure what it was save that it hadn't been solved by mathematicians for nearly two centuries, something to do with problem-solving in polynomial time and real time. When the lead Engineer, First Lieutenant Greg Adams, had looked at Sara Ryder with something approaching awe, that was pretty much all the confirmation he needed. "So, I'm the WuDO on Team Two, and the lead Engineer at the time thought it would be a funny gag to prank the wet-behind-the-ears Ensign with a fake emergency."

"And so it happened…" Ash was warming up to the story, a silly lop-sided grin on her face.

"Now, mind you," Kaidan continued, "this was obviously planned without my involvement. I think the intent was to have me run about like a madman during a perceived emergency when everything was actually in the green. Unfortunately, the _planning_ of said operation had a lot left to be desired, and there was, in fact, a real emergency."

"Uh oh."

"So what the plan was, was to have one of the Bosun's Mates to turn off the Emergency Management System on the Engineering Deck, and close up one of the pipes of the Reclamation Battery, Recycling and Decontamination, Internal Cycle." Ash's face got shrewed as she translated the name of the system into an acronym after a moment, mouthing the word.

"Wait… serious? There's a fucking system on a Navy boat called _the rubber dick_?" Williams guffawed, looking at him as if he were pulling her leg.

"Yep." Lance Corporal Ubantu replied from his station by the Bridge door, obviously overhearing her. Kaidan always wondered if there was some failed comedian on Arcturus who named some of the systems, like the RBRDIC. Everyone called it by its acronym instead of its long-winded actual name. It was a pretty popular prank amongst Sailors ribbing brand-new Ensigns and Seaman, with such orders as ' _I need you to see what's plugging up the rubber dick'_ , or _'check to see if the rubber dick is in the hole fully'_ and watch some cherry Seaman or Ensign get red in the face.

"Oh man, that's hella funny." Army giggled, shaking her head. "And here I thought the Navy had no sense of humor whatsoever."

"Yes, well." Alenko easily remembered the prank-gone-wrong. "So this Bosun's Mate turns off the Emergency Management System so when they shut off the RBRDIC, it doesn't alert the Bridge. The idea was to shut it off, have an alert show up on my screen and force me to announce to the Captain that the rubber dick wasn't functioning like it should." That had Ash cackling, and even Marshal Sam Collins, standing partway down the corridor, snorted. "Now, mind you, the system in question is a _real_ system. Its job is the reclamation of waste water and products."

"It's a poop chute." Williams got the gist of it. The job of the RBRDIC was to filter out reusable water for coolant while storing contaminates in the bilge.

"Essentially. Unfortunately," the Engineer was getting warmed up, "the Bosun's Mate in question that turned off the EMS had gone to the stern bilge pump to close the valve and clog up the system for the prank. He unfortunately had a malfunction in his brain and forgot that righty is tightey, and lefty is loosey."

"No! No way!"

"Yep. He _opened_ the rubber dick and _flooded_ the Engine Room with blackwater." Ash was roaring with laughter, and even Lancie Ubantu and Marshal Collins were laughing as well. "There was a geyser of brackish water just shooting out from the pump, hitting the core of the ship." Williams was still whooping with laughter, slapping her hip as she wiped away a tear. "Now mind you, the core runs at fifteen hundred degrees Celsius. So when waste water hit it, it immediately boiled and _cooked_ shit water, particlizing it and sending it into the ships' atmo processor."

"Oh my fucking God…" Ash was struggling to breath between her laughter. "Whatta fucking idiot."

"So here I am, calling up to the Bridge to tell them that the rubber dick is _spewing fluids_ , and the CIC thinking its a part of the prank since the Emergency Management System is down and they're not getting an alert," Kaidan continued, "while decaLiters of shit water is pounding onto the core and flooding the room while the ripe smell of _cooked_ _shit_ is hammering us and spreading throughout the entire vessel. I'm trying not to throw up all over the place warning the Bridge that the rubber dick is, in fact, _broken_ , and smells like shit, while the Officer of the Deck is laughing at me." The Colonial Soldier is about to keel over laughing, while the Marine several pace back is leaning against the bulkhead, laughing with gusto. Even Sam is amused as hell. "It took five minutes for the smell to flood the Corvette because I couldn't get the Bridge to shut off atmospheric to prevent the rest of the ship from being flooded with shit particles."

"Oh my God. I think I peed myself somewhere in there." Ash's voice was at least an octave high, trying not to laugh. "That has to be the most epic prank fail I've ever heard!"

"Same here. Made the Blotter, and at least half of Navy Command knows of the story, if not the reason behind it." Kaidan shook his head. "Nothing official happened to me since I was the only one who actually did his job as he was suppose to. We had to rotate out of patrols and docked with Arcturus for retrofit to replace all the atmo scrubbers, the filters, and pump out the core. It took three months to scrub the ship from bow to stern to get any contamination out, and they purged the atmosphere at least twice just to get right of any particlization and smell." A couple of people had been relieved of command for that incident, and Alenko knew that somehow he had magically dodge the silver bullet. What had saved his ass was the Automated Captains' Log indicating that he had, in fact, warned the bridge of the incident, recommending proper procedures, and had been ignored. The prank that was suppose to simulate an emergency had turned into a real emergency, and the only person that had done anything right was him. Two weeks later, there was a Navy-wide referendum about using Navy equipment improperly to test individuals on competency levels, and the rumor mill took care of the rest. Thankfully, his name was never mentioned.

"Told you it was a shitty story." Alenko reminded her as the Soldier wiped away at her tears, having laughed so hard.

"Oh God, I'm pretty sure I just self-ejected a kidney out I laughed so hard." The colony-born woman said, shaking her head as she smiled. The dark look in her eyes was gone, replaced with mirth. "Now _that's_ a bad day."

"So that's my story."

" _And I'm sticking to it!"_ Williams, Ubantu, and Collins all replied.

Another seven hours to go on a ghost ship.

* * *

Author's Note: I use a good deal of modern medical devices, lingo, and performance in this chapter.

Vitreous Humour - the transparent gelatinous mass that exists inside your eye organ. Funny enough, I didn't even have to look up the name or the spelling thanks to having learned of it long ago… from a Neil Gaimen book?

The Laryngoscope is the 'intubator' lever that you'll see on TV or in movies if you're not an ER staff or an EMT. It is simply a levering device meant to open the mouth, move the tongue out of the way, and let a health care professional actually see down your throat. There's about 10 different types for ten different scenarios. Intubating a conscious person is a bad idea, as gag reflex might choke them to death.

A portable defibrillator - The zap-zap that helps bring people back to life. I think the highest setting nowadays is probably 240 volts in hospitals. Commonly seen as the AED (Automated External Defibrillator) in workplaces. Nowadays these things can practically be operated with very little training or experience, as they come with simple Crayola guides so even a common person can save a life. Amperes (Amps, or current), are the thing that people warn you about when trying to stick Mr. Fork into Ms. Electrical Socket. Volts don't kill you, though they hurt like a son of a bitch.

The Continuous Positive Airway Pressure Machine (CPAP) - What people with Sleep Apnea use so when they involuntarily stop breathing in the middle of the night, this machine helps deliver oxygen by continuously feeding. What I made was a Positive/Negative Pressure Machine that breaths in _and_ out. No more chest beating (btw, CPR breaks ribs if done _properly_ ).

The Attican Beta Cluster has two known systems; Hercules and Theseus. The Hercules System is where the Mass Relay is. Theseus is where Feros is. In Canon, Mindoir is a colony somewhere in Alliance Space, so I made it in the Attican Beta Cluster, a part of a non-Canon System on the Canon colony of Amarestu, Mindoir being the name of a city/colonial effort instead of an entire planet.

Wait? Jannie has a brother? Stay tuned!

The trick I mention Pressley using to 'spoof' a ship is _Operation Tapdance_ from D-Day, when the British dropped mannequin paratoopers with lit firecrackers as well as tin foil to 'spread' German firearm retaliation by increasing the probability of them firing on non-persons instead of a soldier. The amount of thought, work, effort, training, and planning that went into _Operation: Overlord_ /D-Day is beyond amazing, something like a year and a half in the concept and 6-8 months in practice. It might still be, to this very day, the most extensive war plan ever crafted. Believe me the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq were not even a quarter in the complexity. The best comparison would be the Berlin Airlifts, probably the only other mission I can think of where major operations were continuous, lasting months, involving building airports while flying in supplies to save West Berlin. Check out Operation: Planefare for one of the best missions ever ran!

Commander Karin Carolyn Chakwas - All Military Doctors have rank (Lieutenant through Colonel, with one or two being Generals, as well as Ensigns and Captains). Carolyn Seymore is Chakwas' voice actress, where I got her middle name.

Contragravity spineboard/stretcher - Instead of the collapsible one you see EMT's and Paramedics use today, this one floats like a hoverboard. That's really where I see the future going.

Awww… Vanderloo had a family moment!

The ACV _Horizon_ \- I mention that it weighs in at 192 Gigagrams, or 192,000,000 kilograms (approximately 212,000 American Tons). To get this weight, I looked up the displacement weight of the _Nimitz_ -Class Aircraft Carrier, which is about half of its bow length, so I doubled the proportions to get an idea of the mass of a starship by effectively doubling the second largest ship in the world, behind the _Ford_ -Class Carrier. If you've seen the specs for the _Gerry Ford_ , it's a fucking sexy boat.

Nicknames for Lieutenants: El-Tee, Loot, Butterbars, Monorails, Lost, Pointers, Pills, Swag, Stumps, and Captain's Daughters. And those are just the catch-alls. I've personally had a Red Menace, Turkey Neck, Oh-Boy, String Bean, Tickle, Rapestache, Norman the Mormon, Quail-Bait, Pervert, Sickle Cell, and Jewmageddon. Don't worry, folks; in the Army, we have Equal Opportunity Officers. I was, in fact, one of them.

In this universe, no one flies FTL in-system. Heliospheres are where solar winds and extrasystem space meet, and hitting this barrier while at FTL causes significant damage. I am working on the theory that there is too much debris in a system where FTL is safe, and only the truly stupid or desperate try. Captain Rhys Llewellyn from Where The Law Stands Tall did this maneuver twice during the Miracle of Therum fighting a Batarian slaver action/rescue mission, and I detail some of the issues there.

PowerPoint - Yes, we in the military despise Microsoft PowerPoint. Don't get me wrong, it does its job well. But it is a righteous pain in the ass making a dozen slides on a semi-crummy field with several options that never seem to work properly. I usually went with simple bullet points with hard data and filled in the rest with my words. It wasn't like I was trained for it. I guess it's a class in West Point.

So that's what Kaidan does at that terminal! I actually interjected a real Navy duty. If I remember correctly, ME1 states its something about power distribution. Now I haven't actually played ME1 in… 7 years? But from what I understand about the Navy, power distribution is kinda of an important thing, but not exactly constant. Instead, a Watch Duty Officer is a real job and position held by an Officer, and what Kaidan describes is pretty damn close to what one does. Technically, Kaidan's job on the _Civic_ would be the Engineering Officer of the Watch, while on the _Normandy_ he would be a Junior Officer of the Watch.

The 'story' is a complete fabrication. A friend of mine, Leon, a former Bosum's Mate, came up with it. All I did was change the name of the wastewater reclamation and recycling system into something stupid and funny; the _rubber dick_. There are, after all, military items with unfortunate names like Donkey Dicks (fuel spouts), Monkey Cum (L-SAT), pecker-petters (Barb Wire Gloves), and Ballcrushers (the Swiss Seat for repelling).


	25. A Forest Of Spines, V

_BioWare/EA; it's in the game._

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Eletania Space, Hercules System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 6, 2183**

Author's Notes: P-P-P-P-POLITICS! (NO!)

* * *

After seven hours of traveling through Gagarin Space and interstellar space in the Armstrong Nebula to reach the Tereshkova System and its Mass Relay, it had taken another two hours and twenty-two minutes to translate from the Armstrong Nebula to the Attican Beta Cluster to outrun the potential Geth threat as the ACV _Horizon_ and the SSV _Normandy_ 'landed' in the Hercules System, where Battle Group _Montezuma_ pulled a defensive position over the starter Alliance colony of Eletania. Eletania was a domed colonization effort that had started up three years prior on a semi-toxic world where pollination caused anaphylactic shock due to microscopic bacterial creatures that lived in the moss and algae of the world, light enough to travel in the winds. The two domed colonies were both situated above the 'treeline' of the planets' growth to enjoy its rich nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere and pleasant weather.

It was where the _Normandy_ ended up escorting the _Horizon_ with its Battle Group and nearest possible facility to aid any survivors found on the Flying Dutchman vessel.

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stalked down the Command Deck, leaving the Communication Room in a foul mood. Her and her team had practically towed the _Horizon_ into friendly space, the threat of pirates and Geth all too real as the Frigate played escort for the much slower Carrier-Class Cruise Liner. Mister Arnold Donald of the Earth-Alliance Carnival Corporation had been given a summarized report of the bad news, Jannie leaving out the parts about the massacre that had ensued. All he needed to know was that the Geth indeed take over the vessel, and that a complete loss of life was probable, even likely. She had sent that report from her Ready Room before receiving a message from Arcturus Station, specifically the Admiralty Board.

" _Captain Shepard, reporting as ordered." Jane had saluted the seven members of the Admiralty Board as they were holographically represented before her in the_ Normandy's _Communication Room. The Frigate had been in the Hercules System for less than an hour, and no doubt her initial report of what happened to the_ Horizon _had been reviewed and decided upon. The Commanding Officer for Battle Group_ Montezuma _, one Captain Rhys Llewellyn, hadn't been looking forward to the fact that he would be hosting a potential Geth vessel with_ some _Husks on it. She had filled him in that TEAM LION had eliminated some thirty-nine hundred Husks with a team of twelve. The man had a Marine Battalion and balked at the thought of doing a standard VBSS mission. Five hundred Marines… she could have worked with just a platoons' worth!_

" _Captain." Fleet Master Kastanie Drescher spoke through the_ KERBEROS _Communications Protocols of sending encrypted data packets over an unsecured line, the image a little grainy and jumpy, but otherwise difficult to penetrate as the encryption changed every five seconds, ensuring that, if cracked, only a very small portion of conversation could be heard. "We have received your report about the ACV_ Horizon _. We had been in contact with Carnival's CEO, one Mister Donald, who had requested military assistance from the Alliance Navy. Unfortunately, our fleets are tied up at the moment thanks to Alliance and Earth Parliaments." Evidently, Jannie had stepped on toes pulling off a rescue mission. Thankfully, she didn't exactly_ answer _to the Admiralty Board, though pissing them off would limit options and help later on if some Armchair Admiral got miffed forgetting what it was like actually_ serving _. "As for your request in utilizing some of_ Montezuma's _Marine forces to clear out the vessel and search for survivors, it has been denied."_

You have got to be fucking shitting me, _Shepard seethed internally, keeping her face a blank mask._

" _That wasn't agreed upon." Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Steven Bishop Hackett replied with a growl, turning his head to look upon the Fleet Admiral. "And I do believe that Battle Group_ Montezuma _is assigned to Fifth Fleet, in which I am its Commanding Officer." Jannie knew that politics was raising its ugly head, but Uncle Steven had never danced to that beat. Fleet Master Drescher frowned heavily, but said nothing. While she was responsible for the entirety of the Systems Alliance Navy_ and _Marines, she did not run an individual Fleet. She could give guidance, but it was ultimately the responsibility of the Commanding Officer of the Fleet to give direction. Jannie knew that Kastanie Drescher_ could _order Admiral Hackett to stand down, but she would lose face amongst the other members of the Admiralty Board. Considering five of the seven members were, in fact, the Commanding Officers of the five Fleets of the Systems Alliance Navy, stepping on toes would get her nowhere. "Our duty is to our people, Kat. Captain Shepard just pulled that ship out of enemy hands and eliminated most of its enemy forces with less than a combat section. If there is the possibility of_ just one survivor _, we owe it to them. Or have you forgotten how many survived Shanxi, Mindoir, and Akuze?" No one had known the initial enemy composition or amount of survivors for those incidences, but that hadn't stopped Marines and Sailors from deploying. There had been less than a dozen survivors from Mindoir, and only eight from Akuze. As for Shanxi, it had been a double-sided slaughter, both for the original defenders of the colony as well as the Turian forces deployed there._

" _I concur." The Admiral of Fourth Fleet, Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer, replied. Jannie just stood at parade rest, a little shocked to hear from her estranged stepfather. "If we renege and just scuttle the ship without any kind of investigation or effort for the people aboard that vessel, we might as well resign our commissions when the political and public backlash occur. Civilians aren't going to understand the term 'military necessity' when we fire upon one of our vessels and have no proof that we looked for survivors or tried to identify the bodies. If someone gets a hold that Captain Shepard practically brought the_ Horizon _to us wrapped with a bow and we destroyed it arbitrarily? The media will slaughter us first, then the public, and then the politicians. That is the last thing we need when potentially staring at the next Geth strike." While she wasn't exactly thrilled with Admiral Singers' reasoning, he_ was _correct about the politics of it. At the least Uncle Steven thought about the men and women, a little bit of humanity in Humanity's defenders. "As I understand it, the away team of the_ Normandy _did an excellent job of purging as much of the Geth software as they could while eliminating as much of their forces as well. We now have the potential insight on how the Geth work. More intelligence gives us an edge on defending our people better." The Admiral turned his holographic attention towards her. "Are there any indications of survivors?"_

" _Unknown. We didn't look." The Captain replied. "I know that the crew manifest reports at forty-five hundred and thirteen people, and we only encountered thirty-nine hundred and eighty-seven altered personnel. That leaves less than six hundred personnel unaccounted for in the_ Horizon _. They could be there, physically taken by the Geth, dumped out the airlock… security footage was corrupted, so it's anyone's guess." No one was expecting a sixteen-man team to clear out a Carrier. One needed at least two full Marine Infantry Companies to accomplish that task, at the very minimum. Jannie didn't doubt her accomplishment would be studied rigorously and practiced in VBSS tactics and training; it was rare one ever cleared a ship with full combat strength. She probably set a record somewhere, though that was never her thing. "I've sent a list of details on what recovery ops and ground forces will need to do in order to protect themselves from Geth intrusion and the Husks. Gentlemen? Do_ NOT _let the recommendation of Husk danger get slipped into the solar breeze. I watched one of my Marines get actively assimilated from being stabbed in the ankle. It took about an hour for the conversion process. Doc Sara Ryder and Commander Karin Chakwas are performing an autopsy on Lance Corporal Jeong to discover how it was done."_

" _And you are willing to send Marines, to risk their lives?" Fleet Admiral Drescher berated, and Jannie was absolutely_ appalled _by the question. This_ shouldn't _be the mindset of the highest-ranking military individual in the Alliance Navy. "Out of the question, Captain. The_ Horizon _will be scuttled at current location under my orders." Uncle Steven looked ready to jump out of his seat and throttle somebody. Fleet Admiral Ines Lindholm, the Commanding Officer of First Fleet and the SSV_ Everest _looked ready to murder someone. Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Nitesh Singh of the Third Fleet and the SSV_ Logan _appeared to be in serious objection. Even her stepfather, the Commanding Officer of Fourth Fleet and the SSV_ Kilimanjaro _, had an ugly look to his face. None of the Fleet Officers agreed with the Fleet Master, and the lone person on the Admiralty Board that wasn't in command of a ship, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Leselle Beauecomp, in command of the Office of Naval Intelligence, shook her head slightly, obviously disappointed._

Enough of this shit _, Jannie thought to herself as she raised her OmniTool and toggled the ships' VI protocol._

" _Joker, put the_ Normandy _in between the_ Horizon _and the_ Montezuma _Battle Group._ NOW. _" She told her OmniTool. Right in front of the Board._

"Um… WILCO?" _Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau's voice came over her OmniTool, his tone uncertain but not insubordinate._ "Give me half-a-minute. We're not exactly in position."

" _Half-a-minute is fine, Mister Moreau." The N7 replied, toggling off her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, returning her attention to the seven holographic images in front of her. All of them were shellshocked by what just happened in front of them. She had just willfully countermanded a superiors' orders; that was considered mutiny by some. "You want to blow that ship out of the sky? You're going to have to shoot_ through _me." Several Admirals had their jaws physically drop, and Fleet Master Kastanie Drescher looked ready to chew right through an AlumniSteel bar._

" _Captain Shepard…"_

"Agent _Shepard." Jannie corrected her by interrupting, no longer standing at parade rest, insisting upon her_ other _rank; the Council one. Now she had her arms folded across her chest, and was leaning back slightly on her right leg as she_ stared _at the Officer who was four ranks higher than herself… in the Alliance Military. But she had another authority she answered to, another set of rules she could use. And she was going to play that fucking card_ right now _. "The Council of Law deemed this to be a Human problem. If we can prove it to where there is no doubt that the Geth mean to wage war with anyone and everyone, we can get allies. That proof might be on that vessel where survivors might exist, to be confirmed by what my Surgeon and the Angel of Illyeria are dissecting at this time. We get allies, we can protect our people better, prevent more_ Horizons _, Eden Primes, and Therums. I can't stop Saren and the Geth if I've got to clean up after everyone."_

 _Fleet Admiral Drescher stared right at her. Jannie stared right back._

"Captain, we're in position." _Her OmniTool chirped up with Joker's voice about half-a-minute after her order, in the middle of the staring contest of the ages._ "Mind… telling me what you want me to do? Shields? Sing the Russian National Anthem? Damn it, Jim, I'm a Doctor?"

" _Give me a minute, Joker." Shepard toggled her OmniTool to vibrate, her eyes never leaving the Fleet Master. She was playing a very dangerous game with a woman that was her boss's boss's boss… but Kastanie Drescher answered to someone else above her; the Minister of Defense. This issue would be raised at an inquiry, and with practically every other Admiral on the Board disagreeing with the Fleet Master's call, not to mention how hard the Systems Alliance worked to even_ get _a SPECTRE? The story would be undoubtedly leaked to the press, and the social media networks would practically howl for Drescher's head. Drescher was a FCW Vet who had commanded Second Fleet during the push against Turian forces, but Jannie remembered well the stories that Poppa Bear and Uncle Alec had told her when she was a kid; Jon Grissom had been the driving force while Kat Drescher held a holding pattern over Shanxi. She had been the 'safe' choice back in 2155 when Second Fleet came to existence, the Alliance wishing to look ethical by having a female Admiral in charge of the second existing fleet. Her politics were safe, her tactics were safe, her outlook was safe._

 _That worked fine… during a time of peace. Which this wasn't. Not for the past month. Not since Eden Prime._

" _Fine." The Fleet Admiral buckled, Jannie not being the only one looking at her. "I'll have Captain Llewellyn spin up his Marines and send a detachment of ONI Agents from the Crime Forensics and Intelligence Bureau." Her tone was pure steel, and the Captain knew that likely there would be hell to pay later. "I_ will not _forget this."_

" _See that you don't, ma'am." Shepard drolled as the communication ended._

"I see the Admiralty Board gave you hell."

Jannie had been standing on the Captain's Podium, still seething at the audacity of the Fleet Master wishing just to blow a ship out of the sky when the _Normandy_ brought it out of the enemy's grasp. The fact that everyone else in the Board thought the idea retarded had helped her decision in defying a woman who massively outranked her… somewhat. Thanks to Agent Avitus Rix, Shepard knew exactly where she stood as a Level Three Council Agent in effect when it came to her military, her government, and her species. Technically, she 'outranked' just about everyone save for the actual President of the Systems Alliance, the Prime Minister of Earth, and the Human Ambassador. The military couldn't frag her or charge her with anything considered insubordination unless she murdered someone without cause, and there was a good deal of legal wiggle room concerning even that! They couldn't kick her out, couldn't take her 'authorized' ship, and even her crew was protected under the Treaty of Farixen; one of the subsections detailing the responsibilities of a signatory species when it came to dealing with Agents of the Council. If Jannie wanted to, she could completely ignore anything and everything the Admiralty Board wanted to do. It wasn't a smart choice, but her job was, essentially, the protection and defense of the _Human Race_ , not its presiding government. While she was _an_ arbiter of Council justice and wrath, her first duty (according to the files that Avitus had supplied her) was to her _species_ first, against all enemies both foreign and domestic. If any member of any species was discovered by her with an Infraction? Agent Jane Shepard could neutralize them right then and there with a few pieces of evidence or proof, even unconfirmed. Council justice didn't wait for verification, spectral analysis, collaboration, or a trial. One eyewitness account was all that was needed to enact a punishment that made sapients fearful of SPECTREs.

"Had to teach the Fleet Master a painful lesson about Council Agents." Jannie answered Commander Mark Vanderloo quietly, making an eyebrow raise up in question. "Drescher wanted to blow the _Horizon_ out of the sky post-haste. I had the _Normandy_ maneuvered to take away the threat…"

"… because Captain Rhys Llewellyn wouldn't fire on an Alliance ship, not to mention a SPECTRE." Mark got it. "Dangerous… but necessary. We wanted a SPECTRE. Now that we got one, it's up to you to teach us what that means. For what it's worth, I'm glad you saved that ship. We went through a lot of hard work to bring it back, and I wouldn't be pleased to see it destroyed by someone sitting safe in the Arc just because it was the safe option. We didn't sign up to be safe; we signed up so _others_ could be."

"Something I think some of those station-bound cowards have forgotten, sitting safe on the Arc or back on Earth." Eden Prime had rattled cages in a way that the Blitz never did. Jannie had gone to ICT to be a better warrior, to better defend Mankind. Just because some Armchair Admiral sitting toasty in an office in Arcturus Stream didn't want to deal with the grisly details on a datapad wasn't an excuse not to do what was necessary. It was one thing to follow an order that one didn't really personally agree with. It was something else when it started skirting dereliction of duty. Fleet Admiral Drescher should have known better. Such a call that she had made would likely send her to an 'early' retirement, forced out by the Ministry of Defense. If the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporation caught wind that the military was about to blow their flagship out of the sky without any kind of rescue or relief force other than her own? Arnold Donald showed himself to be a man who would muscle through the political arena to get heads to roll. The man had waited outside the _Normandy_ himself to ask for aid; he wasn't adverse to getting his hands dirty in the name of responsibility. A good man, in her opinion. "Contact Captain Llewellyn and coordinate instructions on what his Marines need to look for in order to defend themselves better against Husks and the Geth. There's still five hundred missing, and there could still be hardware platforms on that vessel."

"I'll see to it, ma'am." Vanderloo nodded from his station. "I'll continue Watch while you get yourself a post-op shower. Your armor smells like gunfire." That had Jannie snort, but smile all the same.

"You have the Conn, Mark."

A post-op shower sounded lovely, but Jannie had two more stops to go to first.

* * *

Captain Jane Shepard tapped on the access panel to the MedBay, the panel beeping in acknowledgment that she wished to enter, but the door not sliding open as the access had been limited to authorized personnel by the Ships' Surgeon. Jannie waited a moment before the access panel went from red to green, indicating that she was allowed into the MedBay. The access doors slid open as the N7 entered into the dispensary to see Commander Karin Carolyn Chakwas suturing up the body of Lance Corporal Hong Jeong, closing his chest cavity, while Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stared at something through a nanoscope, undoubtedly looking at a sample. Jannie noted that on a secured tray were several PlastiGel-crafted jars filled with a clear emulsion fluid and… God, organs floating inside of them. Shepard knew that they were going to do an autopsy, but she really didn't know what that pertained save from what she had seen on ENetFlix shows and vids. They were studying the Marines' organs, and now that Jannie actually looked at them, they seemed… wrong. Shriveled, miscolored, misshapened.

What the fuck had the Geth done to K-Pop? To all the others?

"Ah, Jane." Karin's cool British accent came to her ears as Shepard pulled her attention away from the jars that sat across from the MedBay and towards the Medical Doctor. "We have just finished up with Lance Corporal Jeong, affording what dignity we could considering his condition." The Captain noted that Chakwas was still in BioCom Level Four, meaning Biological Contamination, Level Four Posture. The only thing missing from the older woman was the hood. In fact, Sara was in BioComFour as well, minus her own hood. The Posture was for any infectious disease or condition. No hoods meant that whatever it was wasn't an airborne contagion. Thank God for that, even if they had all been wearing helmets on the _Horizon_ and breathing processed air. The body bag that Sara had used was one from CitEMS meant to protect sapients from such things, being an airtight seal, and the MedBay ran off its own atmospherics just for that reason. They had tested and cleared the air, obviously, since they had let her in without her own HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor helmet on.

"Did he have any family?" Jannie asked quietly. It shouldn't matter, but she would be responsible for the condolence letters. She remembered all too well learning that Corporal Richard Jenkins' parents had died on Eden Prime as well. She carried his dog tags in her armor, knowing that the Marine would have been elated to work for a SPECTRE, and a Human one at that.

"Mother, father, two older sisters." Sara replied from the nanoscope, pulling her eyes from the viewing reticle as she straightened her back out, wincing slightly. Trust Doc to know her Marines. Ryder looked exhausted, both from the ordeal on the _Horizon_ , K-Pop, and the fact that she had been working the past seven or so hours on an autopsy as well as whatever investigative procedures she was conducting. A twelve-hour day wasn't pushing the scales, but considering what had transpired? It was physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausting. "They all live on Earth. Both sisters are married, five kids between the both of them." Sara frowned as she turned her head to look at her Auntie. "He… he was engaged, too. A nice girl in Seoul, her name's Song. They talked and messaged every day."

"Fuck." Jannie pinched the bridge of her nose. One of the nastier bits about command; the losses and those who would be affected. "Is there anything we can do for Hong to make him more… presentable?" Mommy and Daddy Jeong probably didn't want to see their son look like Husk. Closed casket funerals were a painful thing to endure.

"Yes there is." Commander Chakwas replied, nodding her head. "A light coat of OmniGel and PlastiGel at the right mixture and temperature can create a synthskin that will look realistic enough, though it will feel false. But we will have to cremate the body, I'm afraid."

"Why's that?"

"Auntie… he's infected with nanocytes." That had Jannie frown. She wasn't familiar with the term as she found a nearby stool and utilized it.

"Talk to me, kiddo."

"The Husk injected him with some fluid medium, likely an electrolytic medium such as electrolytic plasma." Sara began, having turned to face Shepard while remaining in her stool. "In the fluid were likely hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of nanocytes; nanomachines that act much in the same way as stem cells."

"That doesn't sound good." Stem cells were basic building blocks that one found in Human fetuses, and were grown for legal organ cloning. They could be used for effective treatment as well as illegal genetic research.

"It isn't." Ryder's' smile was distant, never touching her eyes. "The nanocytes latch onto cells within the body, infecting them with a germ-line mutated RNA sequence right into the nucleus of each cell, warping it and consuming it as it self-replicates into a synthetic adaptation. If it enters a blood cell, it ruptures the cell and propagates itself with dozens of nanocytes. If it enters a fiber, it sucks out the necessary elements to chemically alter the fiber in question, changing it from carbon to silicon."

"Wait… what the fuck?" Carbon was _the_ building block for life save for the Volus, as Jannie understood it. Humans, Turians, Asari, Salarians, Drell, Elcor, and Quarians were all carbon-based life forms. She wasn't a hundred percent certain on the Hanar or Krogan. The Volus were the only known race to be based off of silicon. She remembered chemistry and the Periodic Table, that Carbon was lower than Silicon as an element. But to _physically_ change an element? That was… well, the only example she could really think of was the OmniLoom in the House of Boom where she, Sara, and Marshal Samantha Collins had their bodysuits and SPECTRE Armors crafted on the spot, literally grown from elements to finished product, no need for installation, wiring, or integration. It sounded like the same damn process.

"Here." Sara toggled something on her HMOT MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I OmniTool and opened up the holovision monitor installed on the MedBay wall, opening up a file to play.

Jannie watched… horrified.

There was a scene of red blood cells, obviously Human in nature, suspended in plasma. The she saw an addition of nanocytes injected into the site, where the magnification illustrated a red blood cell suffering an attack from a nanocyte; a black, spider-like thing with pseudopod-like feelers that latched onto the cell and began to burrow its way inside. The sight sickened her as she watched the red blood cell begin to quiver and darken, growing more diseased by the second as it shriveled upon itself before exploding, releasing an easy dozen more nanocytes into the bloodstream. _Good God…_ the Council Agent felt her mouth grow dry at the sight. Even viruses and bacterias didn't replicate that much.

"Is that… real-time?" Shepard asked, her tone a little shook up. There had been no defense whatsoever as the nanocytes attacked and infected other cells. God it was multiplying exponentially. If one cell could make a dozen nanocytes in that period of time?

"It take about five to seven seconds from integration to replication." The Academy Alumni replied, toggling the next file. "This is what happens when a nanocyte hits a fiber, this one a skin tissue sample." Jannie found herself unable to look away as she watched the microscopic machine enter into a piece of skin, burrowing inside, blackening the flesh as it likely sucked out whatever nutrients and elements it needed. The site looked diseased as it began to spread and spread and spread. The initial site continued to grow in circumference as the skin began to crack and grow brittle, and the tissues began to turn… crystalline? _Siliconization_ , Shepard had to guess. The flesh looked harder, but more brittle, too. "The nanocyte continues to burrow, replicating inside the flesh and spreading to the connecting tissue fibers and whatever else connecting to it. For the blood stream," Sara sighed, "it is merely a vehicle of transfer, suffusing the entire body. A skin contact can be prevented… with immediate amputation. But the nanocytes are quick. They will convert around a mass of a kilogram in approximately two minutes. An injection?" The Corpsman merely shook her head. "If one is fortunate and it is in a capillary region, we might get lucky with immediate tourniquet and amputation. An actual artery or vein? No, there's no stopping it."

"What you did for Jeong?" Sara had tried electrocuting the process, muttering something about electricity. It was obvious that the Corpsman was trying to fry out what she thought some machine with too much electricity.

"I'm afraid that the Human body doesn't conduct electricity well enough for that to be effective." Ryder replied, looking at the body in sorrow. "I don't know what these things are using for processors or a power source. But I'm guessing nanoprocessors or intelligent DNA for guidance, and perpetual motion as a power source."

"…holy fuck." Jannie knew what _perpetual motion_ meant; a machine that could run indefinitely without the need of an external power , it was impossible due to the fact that such a device would violate both the First and Second Laws of Thermodynamics. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, but Jeong's caloric outtake ceased with the growing spread in his body, meaning that his ambient temperature and caloric conversion stopped." Sara shook her head. "I… I think the nanocyte _ran_ him, like mini-batteries. I know it's only been several hours, but… Jannie…

"He hasn't begun to decay _at all_."

"Wait, wait, wait… that would mean he isn't dead? None of the Husks?" The Council SPECTRE felt a chill go through her heart. Now she knew why Chakwas insisted on cremation; total body destruction.

"He's become something else, Auntie. See the jars?" Sara gestured towards the PlastiGel jars she had noted earlier. "Each one is active, still functioning. Despite that we removed them from the host body and suspending them in emulsion fluid for preservation… they are still working." Jannie felt a deep, deep cold ball form in her gut. "Each one? They're… semi-sentient. A living organism in their own right. I… I don't know what else to say except that I think it's possible that each 'unit' is a separate entity."

"No offense, Sara, but that's… I don't think the Geth can possibly do that." Jannie was beyond baffled. At a technological standpoint, that was… _centuries_ beyond anything she had ever heard of. That was well beyond crafting Artificial Intelligence or NanoTech. "If they could, they wouldn't need robotic bodies."

"Agreed. This is… something else." The Academy Alumni frowned, looking at the sample that rested under the nanoscope. "I talked to Doctor Chakwas about this. We're destroying all the evidence. This is just too dangerous to risk the small possibility of someone getting their hands on it. I know… I know that there were bodies on Eden Prime and T-Therum," Jannie's heart broke at the sound of that stutter, knowing that Sara was still affected by what happened to Red Platoon (1B3/7MAR), "but my full and complete medical analysis is to destroy all evidence and remains. One drop of this even in _benign_ hands is beyond the scope and capabilities of our control, Auntie. God forbid some stupid motherfucker thinks about weaponizing this tech for their own purpose. This is… First Day Violation, _well_ beyond anything we're capable of."

"Matter creation and dissemination." The N7 breathed out, knowing what Sara was implying. Humanity and the other races had been molding and shaping objects from existing elements for millennia, crafting objects from one to the next. No matter how advanced they had gotten, from simple metallurgy to advanced plastics and even the Gels, it was still a simple scientific barrier that they could only create from what existed, limited by what was available. Oh, sure, sentients have _synthesized_ a great deal of products, able to bombard an element with electrons to change it subtly to their needs, or forging two or several metals into an alloy for their purposes. But they had to find it, research it, and craft it. They could break a molecule apart, and even forge one together, but the basic premise was the same; they couldn't _create_ something that didn't exist before.

Matter creation? _True_ creation? That was the stuff of the Gods… or much worse.

"ProTech?" Shepard asked quietly, her eyes darting over to where Doctor Chakwas was, still finishing up with Lancie Jeongs' body. The Medical Doctor knew the score about dissemination of information and classified materials, but one didn't shout out sensitive information. Jannie implied the OmniLoom in the House of Boom.

"Honestly… no, no I don't think so." Sara bit her lower lip, thinking. "I just don't see how they could have gone extinct if they had this kind of capability, even a fraction of it or just in small amounts. This is akin to some fantastical concepts, like teleportation, replication, and resurrection. This is a high-level of math and science we're nowhere near cracking… possibly ever, and rightfully so. If the Protheans could craft the elements? They'd still be in power today, and God forbid where we would be in the scheme of things against that kind of power. Could you imagine the abuse?" Jannie shuttered at that. "No, this isn't Prothean. Or if it were, it got out of hand and it was ultimately responsible for their extinction. I might bring that up to Liara; she loves her conspiracies." That had the Captain snort as Sara looked thoughtful.

"It could possibly be MetTech, the Metacons."

Shepard frowned. She knew that term from Doctor T'soni, Professor T'vara, and Sara.

"That was the machine race the Protheans fought against, right?" Like most Humans, Jannie didn't exactly get a _galactic_ education. Sara knew far more about species history than the redhead ever would. Something the Cit-born prided herself on.

"Yes, approximately fifty-five thousand years ago. Eventually destroyed the Protheans' home system, if the Asari Protheantologists are correct." Jannie wasn't sure how one destroyed an entire _solar system_. It was too scary a thought. What would drive someone to do such a thing? "But what little we've recovered about the Metacon Wars was that they were sentient computers and thinking machines; likely Synthetic or Artificial Intelligence, maybe like the Geth, but probably closer to that one _Terminator_ movie series." Sara eventually shook her head. "But I honestly have a hard time believing even the Metacon developing this; they would be in existence today as well if they had this capability, and who knows what fifty millennia of time would let them do. Whatever this is, whoever made this…" Sara went quiet as her blue eyes looked right at her Auntie.

"Whoever is making this… _is_ _God_."

* * *

Captain Jane Shepard awoke with a start, her body covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat as she lurched forwards quickly, her heart racing as she gasped, clutching at her chest, her heart absolutely _pounding_ inside her bosom. Her green eyes darted left and right to taking in her surroundings, and found herself to be in the darkened confines of her Captains' Quarters, sitting up in her own personal bed. She let off a sigh as she wiped at her face, feeling the sweat drying rapidly on her heated skin, knowing it would likely be an hour or so before she could comfortably fall back to sleep.

 _That fucking dream…_ unlike most, this one she remembered vividly.

Jannie threw the Systems Alliance-issued blanket and cover sheet off, kicking it down to the bottom of her bed as she threw her legs around to rest on the soft rug on the deck so she wouldn't have to touch the cold metal floor with her bare feet, looking down at her long legs, seeing a few marks here and there associated with her profession as an N7 SpecOps warrior. She had two small incisions on either side of her left knee for ACL and LCL repair, and a nice patch along the middle of her right shin where she had broken her tibia into an open fracture, the lower portion of the break actually piercing her skin on a mission back in '78. Doc Haskell had taken off her leg armor, shoved the bone back inside, reset her leg, and splinted it with a PlastiGel sheath so Jannie could continue on that mission; not her wisest decision. There was also the nice sight of dimpled flesh from a gunshot wound along her right thigh, thankfully missing both the femur and the femoral artery.

Seeing her battle scars, Jannies' right hand went to the dimpled mark that rested right above her heart as it always did; the one that almost killed her.

God damn it, why'd she have to dream that dream?

Shepard sighed as she slipped on a pair of fuzzy slipper in the likeness of _Blasto!_ ; Sara Ryders' idea of both a present and a joke a couple of years back when the first movie came out. Despite the ridiculousness of them, they were warm and comfortable to wear as the redhead stood up and padded over to her personal terminal in her quarters, rocking out with only her pink Underarmor boyshorts and her pink Underarmor Medium-Impact sports bra. The feel of the SSV _Normandy's_ atmospherics recycling the air brought a slight cool breeze to her flesh, drying off the sweat and bringing a slight chill to her skin. Jannie sat in the chair in front of her work station and waved the terminal on, watching the holographic screen and Haptic keyboard activate as she touched an app on the gesture-recognition screen, the device noting her hand position relative to what was being displayed in light form and activating the app she had 'touched'.

"Personal log, July Seventh, Twenty-One Eighty-Three. Time? Zero-Two Hundred in the fucking morning." Jannie spoke as the terminal recorded her words.

"Operations on the _Horizon_ were completed late last night, Marine teams from Battle Group _Montezuma_ doing a full VBSS on a Carrier-sized vessel. We had complete and full control of the vessel in question, so it went textbook easy. A hundred and fifty Marines searched that death trap from Crows' Nest to Keel, Bow to Stern, Port to Starboard. Took them about six hours to search and clear every room on every deck, taking it slow and proper.

"Didn't find one other Goddamn survivor. Human, Husk, Geth… anything."

Jannie went silent for a moment as she pulled her feet onto the chair, hugging her own legs, thinking.

"It seems that TEAM LION killed all the available Husks, not one living or mobile one was found. I ordered the teams to incinerate the remains of the Husks, and there was no flak with that once those boys and girls saw what they were. Some of those Jarheads served in the Blitz, seen combat and what slavers could do, but not one of them was prepared for that. One of the Gunnys' mentioned that it looked like all the personnel on the _Horizon_ were stuffed into the Atrium, but that about five hundred or so were missing. There was a body count, a physical one, and it was compared to the crew manifest. Somewhere out there… there's five hundred Husks waiting to tear and infect. That… scares me."

That fucking dream. Why did she have to dream _that_ dream?

"Sara…" Jannie continued, "Sara held a Wake with the remaining Marines for K-Pop. We'll do a proper one when we hit the Arc next, but they held their own for Jeong's cremation. What he had become? God, it's scary to think that there were hundreds, if not thousands, of Husks running around on Eden Prime. We slaughtered damn near four _thousand_ of them on the _Horizon_ , but I can't help but think what those people must have been thinking when everything began, the terror of it. Watching strangers and families dragged to a Dragons' Tooth, impaled and converting. Hong… was still alive and conscious when he had been injected with Husk nanocytes, never passing out or falling unaware. That… that means that the people spiked on Dragons' Teeth are likely not only still alive, but probably conscious and aware, too. God, what fucking horror."

Jannie closed her eyes, but she could still see the last visage of her dream.

"So the _Horizon_ has been cleared, and tomorrow ONI will scour the ship for any usable data and intelligence." Shepard continued. "I just hope that we can find something to justify the loss of over four thousand people and the political and public backlash of this incident. This is going to terrify people if they ever know the full truth. Bad enough they imagine killer robots from outer space. I don't doubt that the Alliance will suppress some of that intel, such as Husks being Human Beings, or what happened to Jeong. The last thing we need is a panic and rioting from people who don't seem to get that such actions puts them in further danger if we've got to break off to quell such things. I've… yet to inform the Alliance of Sara's discoveries involving Husk nanocytes. We don't know enough, and Sara's _extremely_ paranoid about samples getting sidetracked or used retardedly. I don't blame her; that shit scares the fuck out of me. I personally watched every piece of contamination on my vessel get destroyed, and I had Tali monitor the same on the _Horizon_ , making sure no one was pocketing 'trophies' or some such bullshit. Purification ops… never thought it come to this."

That Goddamn dream, why wouldn't it fade?

"It's been… twenty-one days since Therum, and thirty-one since Eden Prime. With the exception of his holographic appearance to the Council and his pet Krogan that Sara ripped the headplate off of, there's been no further word or intel of Saren's location or activities. I have no idea where he is, what he's doing, or what he has planned next. The fucker is a twenty-year veteran of Special Ops of the highest caliber, and no doubt he's got extensive networks and finances set up if he's been planning this for some time. With the Geth at his side, or at least in alliance with for the time being, he could practically get any piece of intel on-hand in short order, and likely very few places could be closed of to him thanks to Geth hacking and infilltration of the ExtraNet. He's got to have some sort of base of operations or place where he can think; a ship, a headquarters, some small station. The fact that the fucking Council of Law seems utterly inept and clueless to their own golden boy strikes me as singularly insipid of them, unless they've got some reason to hold back info on the spike they call a traitor. I imagine there's a good deal of political flak involved, considering he's been there right hand man for something like fifteen years, according to both Sara and Sam Collins. They were blindsided good, and I suspect they're cutting losses and loose ends to protect their reputations and careers. Ah… the ever-predictable act of the politician. Accusation in one hand, denial in the other.

"Still," Jannie continued, "we got lucky. The _Horizon_ was pulled out of whatever plans it was involved in with one military loss, and we've identified the SSV _Xterra_ as a Vessel Of Interest throughout Alliance Space. I have no idea how the Geth got aboard and took it over. Hacking, I imagine. Scary thought."

Jannie could still see the dream's conclusion in her minds' eye.

"Had… a strange dream." The redhead finally opened up, knowing that she should. "Not something from the Beacon for a change. Something more recent." God she could still see it, feel the horror and revulsion of it. "Just… picturing what it must have been like on the _Horizon_ , for the people there. The Geth taking over, probably instituting lockdown so they can gather everyone piecemeal, impaling a quarter-thousand at a time." Jannie remembered the Atrium, seeing it filled with tourists in her minds' eye… families. Her heart shuttered as she pictured _Sara_ amongst them, the ten-year old girl that had been a part of the inaugural flight of the ACV _Horizon_. That's what her dream had been about, a defenseless, helpless young Sara Ryder captured by the Geth, crying as she watched people impaled on Dragon's Teeth, lines of Humans waiting their turn as people were assimilated.

Jannie had woken up when Sara had been pressed against that tripod, the spike forcing its way up through her like she had seen with that one researcher on Eden Prime. She could still hear Sara's scream.

"We've got to stop this." Jannie wiped at a tear that escaped an eye. "I'm not going to stand by and watch my race get turned into monsters. I'll fucking shatter Rannoch if I have to and write the Quarians an apology letter.

"I'll fucking kill them all."

* * *

FINE: ARC V: A Forest Of Spines

* * *

 _ARC VI: The Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros)_

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Eletania Space, Hercules System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

"Ma'am? We're getting FLASH Traffic from the Arc. Requesting immediate response."

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) looked over to Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, who looked at her with shock. It was Dog Watch, and Commander Mark Vanderloo was in his rack after the hellacious days they had pulled involving the _Horizon_ and the subsequent clearing operations. She was standing Watch as the Officer of the Deck for the off-shift, being evening time for the SSV _Normandy_. To celebrate the safe return of the ACV _Horizon_ , she had ordered the Mess Chief to crack open 'the good stuff' and the crew's evening meal consisted of surf and turf… as well as booze. Everyone was allowed two beers for their meal, and morale had skyrocketed as expected. There was even imports for the non-Humans, and Jannie was somewhat amused to discover that Agent Zevin Raeka had a taste for Batarian Ale while Doctor Liara T'soni enjoyed a Hanar Stout. Who knew that an aquatic species knew _how_ to make beer? For TEAM LION, they got an extra ration; wine or liquor as well. No one envied TEAM LION the special treatment considering what they had to do in order to earn it.

FLASH Traffic from the Arc was never a good sign. It was only authorized by seventeen people; the President of the Systems Alliance, the Vice President, the Minister of Defense, the Vice Minister, the Fleet Master, any Fleet Admiral, five deep-space Cruiser Captains who pulled picket duties on the Batarian Hegemony border, the Human Ambassador of the Citadel, and the Human Chamberlain.

"Put it on my screen." Jannie replied, looking to the podiums' monitor in front of her as it came to life with whatever was being sent. It showed, unsurprisingly, Fleet Master Kastanie Drescher, her face made out of pure steel. Considering their last conversation, Shepard wasn't surprised, but FLASH wasn't an acronym to be taken lightly.

It stood for _Fleet Logistical Acquisition, Send in Haste_. It was a cry for help… or a call to war.

"Fleet Master." Shepard executed a quick salute while standing at her podium. "I have you on comms at my CIC." That was to let the Admiral know that whatever she said would be said in front of several set of ears. If it were sensitive or classified, she would have to wait for Jannie to go to the Communications Room.

" _We've got a hit, Jane."_ The Fleet Master spoke, obviously not worried. _"Thankfully, you're actually close by. You are to redeploy the_ Normandy _with all due haste to the Theseus System in the Attican Beta. Alliance IFF Protocols have pinged back a return on the_ Xterra _, and we have its current location thanks to passive tight-beam communications analysis. We never would have known to look for it without your response to the_ Horizon _as well as the intelligence we're getting off the Carrier. You were right, Captain. And now we've got a chance to pay back the Geth for what they did to Eden Prime, Therum, and the_ Horizon _._

" _Jane… they're hitting_ Feros _."_

The CIC went deathly quiet at the name of the planet in question as everyone around the CIC looked at their Captain.

"Oh." Jannie felt her throat go dry and her heart plummet. "Oh fuck."

Nobody needed to be told what was there above the ancient Prothean planet; all of them already knew. The Fourth Fleet was stationed above the colony to protect the inhabitance so far away from the Relay system. Feros was important to the Alliance, with its Prothean data caches, research and development sites, and an entire city-planet for them to play with. It was the host of many a training modules, and even where some of the N Courses were held to spice things up. Feros, despite being a backwater planet, had its importance. Which was why the Fourth Fleet was there. Which was why the _Kili_ was there.

Her _mother_ , the _Kilimanjaro's_ XO, was there.

* * *

Author's Note: Jersey, why did you have to go and make it personal?

Trust me, this will be brutal. Like Battlestar Galactica vs. the Cylons brutal.

This chapter marks the 300,000 word mark, making it by far the longest story I've ever posted. I hope you've enjoyed the average 12,000 word chapters. To think my daughter whines about doing 500 word book reports!

 _A Forest Of Spines?_ A fan asked me about the title of the ARC and what it actually had to do with the story. I originally planned to have the _Horizon_ filled with Dragon's Teeth, like a forest of spines (being a tall sharp object, not your backbone) while also likening to personal courage (having a spine) in such a horrific site. I instead went with the Zombie Apocalypse Time method of the hallway hold out, introducing two instances of children and then adding K-Pop's demise.

LaGrange Point Two? - There are five LaGrange Points for a celestial object. Point One is where the object is in between sun and planet (for instance, the 'light' side of Earth and the sun). Two is on the far side of the object, where the planet is in between object and sun (like the full moon as a reference). Three is where the sun is the pivot point, the sun at the apotheosis of orbit of the object. Four is the 'lead' Trojan Point, ahead of the object in question, and Five is the 'trailing' Trojan Point. There are, in fact, several rocks, asteroids, and objects that circle Earth around some of these points, such as 2010 TK7, the first Earth Trojan discovered. For you space nuts out there, check out the Near-Earth Objects!

Eletania is the planet with the toxic algae, Prothean Sphere thingie that just so happens to match up with the trinket that the Consort gives you, and where you can slaughter pyjaks/space monkeys with a MAKO. In the game, it wasn't colonized due to the toxicity issue, but I made it a domed colony above the treeline. Usable planets are too rare to give up on. I don't doubt we'll colonize Mars despite the environment.

Battle Group _Montezuma_ and Captain Rhys Llewellyn both come back from Where The Law Stands Tall.

KERBEROS Protocols - Data encryption in which encrypted data is sent over an unsecured (ie, civilian) line to a trusted source. Pronounced 'Cur-bur-oos', it is the actual Greek pronunciation of CERBERUS, and a Real-Life encryption protocol practiced by national states. When the CIA has to send an update to its Agent and they can't risk a trip to the Embassy or a safe house, this is how that information would be sent. Not exactly giving up classified info since _I LOOKED THIS UP ON WIKIPEDIA!_

"Damn it, Jim…" - Doctor James 'Bones' McCoy (MD) of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701). Had to throw out a Star Trek reffie after the _Hunt for Red October_ one.

Huskification - I only remember a little how the Borg did it; an injection of nanomachines that sprouted receiver/transmitter devices, as well as some other systems to override cognitive function. I went another parallel; John Carpenters' _The Thing_ ; an alien life form that 'fed' off of its host and replicated it to perfection organically. Each part, even each cell, was a separate and distinct animal in its own right. While the Husk body isn't that advanced, it does have the basic capabilities of being infectious and useful, such as a severed arm. There is precedence before you accuse me of jumping off the far end; that Husk head in the Leviathan DLC was both active and aware despite being separated from its body.

The idea of nanocytes originally came from Meytal's _The Spirit Of Redemption_ , where someone gets a hold of Reaper technology any tries to use it to their own ends (no, not Cerberus). One character gets infected and spends six months fighting it with everything that they got, and still ends up in between man and machine. I didn't want that, as CyberPunk, while fun, isn't exactly my thing. Nanocytes and _Reaper Plague_ will show up later on.

Sentient Computers and Thinking Machines - Actually, this concept is out of Frank Hubert's _Dune_ series, specifically the Butlerian Ji'had. I went old-school Sci-Fi on you.


	26. The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two, I

" _The_ Kobayashi Maru _test, it isn't about about facing death; it is about facing_ life. _" - Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer, Systems Alliance Naval Academy, 2181_

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, On FTL Approach To Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

Author's Note: An ARC before Feros. Just so you know? I tore up the Canon book pretty good here and the soon-to-come _Priority: Feros_ mission. Don't expect a rehash. And I'm going to highlight some of the minor crew members to give you a feel on how the Navy operates on a more day-to-day basis; something games and movies really don't cover because who wants to watch a 24 hour show where nothing really important happens save an eight hour shift and some grabass?

An ode to Elizabeth Moon, David Drake, and other Sci-Fi space battles in which, like the Navies of today, it's all about the totality.

Now sit back and enjoy yet another original mission... in space!

Don't forget to check out the disclaimer!

Able Seaman Rosamund Valerie Dravens (LT4) sat at her duty station, the LADAR Technician using her terminal to search for any inbound light signatures on-approach to the SSV _Normandy_. There were eight sensor duty stations that no less than eight technicians, such as herself, monitored at all times. As a LADAR Tech, it was her job to scan for any inbound/outbound 'light' signatures; any kind of reading that would identify the position, direction, and composition of an object in space. In theory, a good LADAR and a good Technician could 'see' anything within an AU, give or take light-lag, cosmic radiation interference, distortion, and a myriad of other hashes that made simply 'watching' a screen a real effort. Today, her focus was on Vavilov–Cherenkov Radiation, generally just called Cherenkov Radiation after the Russian scientist who first detected it with experiments. Cherenkov Radiation was the electromagnetic radiation emitted when a charged particle passed through a dielectric medium at a speed greater than the phase velocity of light in that medium. In other words, she detected Faster-Than-Light signatures. Yesterday, she had Thermodynamic Signatures; heat signatures. The day before that she had Reber signatures; radio astronomical search for any incoming radio signals in the electromagnetic medium of space. It was rotated so that the Technicians could stay on top of their duties without growing compliant looking for the same thing every day.

All of a sudden, her monitor practically _exploded_ with data for a brief moment.

"What the hell?" Rosamund whispered, seeing the LADAR going back to normal, detecting the normal backdrop of interstellar radiation that existed between systems in a cluster. The Attican Beta Cluster was known for its three dozen quasars, three remnant novas, and dozens of radiological anomalies, all retrievable thanks to the _Normandy's_ Library Computer Access and Retrieval System, or LCARS. The ships' log noted the flare of sensory data, which she pulled up on a secondary holographic screen, looking at the massive spike of Cherenkov Radiation. It measured well within the range of a solar flare! Cravens accessed the LCARS database to compare the known anomalies and their signatures, and non of them seemed to match in the bandwidth or intensity.

This… this was different?

"Watch Officer?" Rosamund raised her hand to alert the Watch Officer of the Deck, to get their attention. Chief Petty Officer Raymond Tanaka approached from his station just aft of Ops Alley, standing in between Ops and the CIC, the veteran Sailor who was a rated LADAR Technician and Weapons Crew Chief rolled into one, approached her station just shy of the cockpit. "Chief? I just got hit with this. I… I've never seen anything quite like it." The LADAR Technician pointed out the secondary screen, matched with a third screen alongside it with known signatures that didn't correspond, gleaned from LCARS. Chief Tanaka leaned over her station to look at the signature capture of Cherenkov Radiation that _would_ suggest someone traveling at FTL, but the intensity was _way_ too high. The _Normandy_ could rate at twenty-four light-years a day at full flank FTL, and push to twenty-eight in emergencies. The fastest ships in the galaxy, the Salarian Union _Jotan_ -Class Corvette, could do thirty-two at flank, and one, the USV _Tripa_ , held the galactic record at just over forty light-years in a day. That reading was in LCARS, the Cherenkov Radiation signature known.

What she was seeing was _well_ beyond that.

"That isn't a ghost signature." The E-7 mused, studying the bands of radiation and the signature it caused. It was well known that ghost signatures happened all the time; old signatures from the past finally being captured after decades or centuries traveling at light-speed, picked up because a ship just happened to be at the right place at the right time to receive it so long after its originating date/time. "Too weak to be a old nova. Too broad to be a quasar or a black hole spike."

"Chief? I got _a_ reference, but it makes no sense." Rosamund scrolled through the references, and pointed something out. "This is a match for one of the Top Ten." That was a reference to the Palaven Hierarchy Navy, being their First Fleet to their Tenth Fleet; their largest and most honored Fleets. The Dreadnoughts and fleet compositions were the best, and if one detected one of _those_ fleets in their screen? They were going to die, quickly and brutally. The Hierarchy fielded those fleets only when they wanted some government to know they had unfortunately caught the Primarchs' full and undivided attention. Chief Tanaka looked at the signature in question. "This is a Translation Signature of the Seventh Palaven, when they exit through a Relay. The size, strength, intensity, and band." Rosamund took the signature of the Seventh and superimposed it over the unknown signature she received. "This unknown has the same hallmarks, but it's _bigger_ on every category. It's like… the Seventh plus some friends decided to jump from the Trebia System and _happen_ to land right here where there _is_ no Relay."

That was impossible, of course.

Chief Petty Officer Raymond Tanaka looked at the superimposed readout, then to her.

"Captain Shepard?" He called out, and Dravens felt a little spike of fear in her heart as she looked over an sat the red-haired N7 leave her position from the CIC to walk down Ops Alley and come to _her_ station. Dravens gulped a little.

"Talk to me, Chief." Captain Jane Shepard said to Chief Petty Officer Raymond Tanaka, who instead directed it to Able Seaman Rosamund Dravens. The LADAR Technician found herself bearing the _full_ attention of the ships' Commanding Officer, a living legend. Her throat went parch right then and there, and she really wanted to be just about anywhere else in the galaxy other than under the scrutiny of the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE. No Sailor wanted the Captains' attention on them, at least not on a personal level. She was just an E-3 Ops Deck screenwatcher, and she was now in close proximity to a woman who might just be the greatest hero ever!

"C-Captain." Rosamund stuttered a little at the sight of the larger-than-life redhead whose complete and utter attention was on _her_. "I got an anonymous reading spike in the Cherenkov Radiation sensors about a minute or two ago. It was very sudden, over very fast, and the intensity was well beyond anything I've seen before." The LADAR Technician pointed to the recorded reading, and then the reference she had described to Chief Tanaka. "It isn't a nova signature or an escaped neutrino burst that we sometimes get from stars or black holes. It's too regulated, too systematic. It's an artificial signature in which the only match I can come close to it is a Mass Translation of one of Palaven's Top Ten. But we're not in a Relay System."

Captain Jane Shepard looked at the readouts, and then to her.

"XO! Full alert, set condition red!" The Council Agent shouted down Ops Alley and towards where Commander Mark Vanderloo stood beside the Combat Information Center, the normal lighting of the _Normandy_ switching from a light florescence to a shade of red to indicate threat. "How soon are we breaching Theseus' heliosphere?"

"Four minutes." The XO replied from halfway down the bridge.

"Seaman? Give me an estimate at what we're looking at. Size, time, and distance." The Captain said, standing right over her shoulder.

"Y-Yes, ma'am." Rosamund looked at the unknown signal, and began calculating degradation. Like all things in fluids, be it atmo or space, everything had a consistent and measurable decay rate over time and distance. Despite the source being an unknown, Cherenkov Radiation was a well-known effect, mapped and categorized. Even if it was at a range exceeding normal perimeters, she could measure the degradation as it passed over the ship, even as fast as it did over the one-hundred plus meter vessel. The LADAR Technician quickly did a calculation based on the variable of degradation of signal from bow to stern of the vessel, the distortion value as it passed over the ship, and the rate the intensity dropped over the same distance. With this information, she could get a good ballpark figure, as well as a direction and distance to track.

"Ma'am… I would say this signal equals to a Top Ten Translation exit plus that of the Alliance First Translation exit." Rosamund tried not to think that meant she was suggesting one of the largest Turian Fleets jumping in sync with the largest Alliance Fleet. "Distortion is low, so it was close, and soon. Less than ten minutes, and within a few AU, easily. Approximately… _here_." She brought up a simple map of the Attican Beta Cluster, zoomed in towards the Theseus System, and pointed to a location just outside of the heliosphere, more or less to their starboard bow. "This would give us a close approximation of the numbers I received, ma'am."

"Record it and log it, Seaman." Captain Shepard told her, still looking at the numbers. "The Geth have figured out how to catapult Relays, able to jump into a location without a fixed exit point." Dravens gasped a little at the information. Surely that couldn't be possible! "You might be the first person to actually witness the event." The redhead looked to her and gave her a professional smile and a nod. "Good catch, Dravens."

"T-thank you, ma'am." The Technician replied, feeling her heart skip a few beats. She was elated that she got recognized for her performance, but what she had recognized had her heart nearly stop at the realization.

The Geth were invading the Therum System.

And the _Normandy_ was going to intercept.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Charles Kenneth Pressley was a God-fearing man; had been his whole life. Fifteen years in service in the name of God and species had him see a great many things that only reaffirmed his faith and his duty. He had been on the SSV _Agincourt_ , the first vessel to come to aid Elysium during its most harrowing hours, putting the fear of God and the wrath of Humanity into a bunch of scum-sucking assholes who thought enslaving good folks was a profitable venture. He had been a part of the Theshaca Raids in '78, where deep-range sensor buoys had been deployed to plot pirate vessels discharging at that gas giant to mark their port-of-calls and send them to their rightful eternal punishment. He had broken down and cried as an Ensign during his first ground op; the search for survivors in the town of Mindoir, cradling the broken form of a little girl. He was a God-fearing man who pushed himself to excellence, to be the man others needed in a time of woe.

Like right the fuck now.

The SSV _Normandy_ had left the Hercules system some four hours prior to investigate the location of the SSV _Xterra_ , an _Explorer_ -Class Corvette that was known to be in the hands of the Geth. Arcturus Command had Command Ping'ed the vessels' IFF protocols, assuming that the Geth _hadn't_ corrupted it so that it would still be seen as a 'friendly' vessel electronically for other Systems Alliance Naval vessels. The ping had come back with its location heading in the Theseus System of the Attican Beta Cluster, the furthest-colonized system from the clusters' relay. Fourth Fleet, stationed in the Theseus System in Feros Space, had been alerted to the vessels' vector and potential danger.

"Ma'am? We've fully entered into the Theseus System." Charles called out through his Aldrin Labs' Onyx Light Armor helmet, seeing the distortion normal for entering the helioshock wake dissipating as the _Normandy_ entered into Theseus Space. His hands were already working to locate the normal route buoys; a series of communication buoys that the Alliance had in systems to give normal information about a system for better flight-in-system as well as warnings and tags of known anomalies and threats that a vessel needed to know. There were normally a dozen spaced approximately at three-quarters an AU apart along the most common vector of entry into a system, giving any vessel, from System Alliance Navy to an independent freighter, knowledge of such things as refuel points, discharge points, location of comets and asteroids, and connectivity of the in-system IntraSystem Alert Broadcast; a communications net that all Alliance-held systems had. It was both sword and shield for a system; it connected a vessel to what was in the system, allowing them to talk to any station or colony in the system FTL, while simultaneously affirming their IFF protocols and vessel manufacture and model. It was the first step towards guiding a friendly vessel in… and identifying the enemy.

"ISAB Net is down." Pressley looked over to Commander Mark Vanderloo, unable to see him frown due to his helmet. The _Normandy_ went to DEFCON TWO status approximately five minutes prior, and all hands had donned on their armor for REDCON FOUR status; full environmental seal. Captain Shepard was expecting a battle with the suggestion that a Geth fleet had somehow _jumped_ near the Theseus System not by means of FTL, but somehow a _Translation_ jump with no known fixed exit. That should be impossible… but somehow the Geth had been able to reach the Utopia System and the Knossos System without alerting the Alliance to their presence in Earth Alliance Space. It was… a conclusion, if a far-fetched one. "Either they're not broadcasting, or they're destroyed."

" _Ping."_ Vanderloo ordered. The Captain had to run to her quarters for her armor, and Mark had the deck.

"Aye aye, pinging." Charles tapped a few commands on his console on the CIC and set off a blast of radioactive isotopes in the x-ray bandwidth that could travel just shy of the speed of light, its half-life and dissipation rate known. The signature that the _Normandy's_ 'ping' was set at had been altered at the Arc, Captain Shepard having wanting one that measured _different_ from the rest of the Systems Alliance Navy, which was normally in the ultraviolet spectrum. Jane had it ordered to where the bandwidth could be mistaken for a x-ray burst from a black hole or perhaps a lensed flare from a pulsar; all plausible, and actually that bandwidth got a fair amount of readings that ranged from ghost hits to remnant echoes of supernovae millions of years prior. As a former LADAR Technician himself, Pressley knew that Humanity's First SPECTRE was using her intelligence and her experience as a Special Forces warrior to find ways to remain undetected for as long as possible. Someone went and handed an N a stealth vessel, and go figure Shepard looked about as giddy as a kid in a video game kiosk! It was a match made in Heaven. "Should get a return in a few minutes." He looked towards Mark and saw the Captain enter back onto the Bridge, armored in her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, looking ready to go to war, be it space or on the ground. Her helmeted eyes cast over the updater marquee on the holographic visual over the CIC, answering her own questions before having to ask several when the answers could be found in front of her.

" _Sir! We're getting returns from the x-ray bandwidth!"_ Petty Officer (Third Class) Kaylie Johnson spoke up from her station in the Ops Alley. _"I'm seeing two scattered debris fields in the vicinity of where we should be detecting the ISAB. Fields are small, less than a tonnage."_ That confirmed what Pressley had already assumed; the Net wasn't down, it was destroyed.

The first act in a war.

" _All hands, prepare for combat maneuvers."_ Captain Shepard rang out, calling out over the 1MC to alert everyone in the _Normandy_ that this was no longer a precautionary search; they had prey to hunt down. _"Navigation? I want an ecliptic path under the solar horizon and heading towards Feros Trojan Four. Joker? Mark Nine, full stealth, and prepare for intercept/destroy missions."_ Charles was already working on a presumed path towards the second planet in the Theseus System, charting a course that would go _below_ the solar plain to avoid most space debris caught in the normal trajectory of Theseus' gravity, and then to a polar plot position that would have the _Normandy_ heading towards the lead Trojan of Feros, LaGrange Point Four. Technically, it was a 'push' area of gravity where a small well of gravitational distortion buffered objects and cleared a path for a planet as it revolved around its solar planet. The Alliance Fourth should already be on station at Feros, either at LaGrange Point One or Two. Trojan Four was a smart heading when they would be heading in blind traveling at ninety percent the speed of light, readings coming in almost as fast as they were sent, the Doppler Effect almost working against them. If they were heading towards something, they could have mere minutes, if not seconds, to react.

"Course has been plotted, ma'am." The Navigator rang out as he sent the trajectory to both the CIC's holographic interface as well as the _Normandy's_ pilot. Man was an ass (as all pilots were) but Charles had never seen a finer hand on the stick. Eden Prime and Therum had proved the man's chops. Joker earned the right to be as snarky as hell as long as he kept them alive. "Distance is set at eighteen Astronomical Units." The Lieutenant Commander informed the Captain, plugging a countdown on the CIC. "Travel at nine and a quarter minutes per AU puts the _Normandy's_ ETA to Trojan Four Feros at one hundred and sixty-six minutes and forty-one seconds." The Geth fleet was ahead of them by ten to fifteen minutes, if what Captain Shepard believed was true. If that were so, then the Geth would likely be traveling at the same speed, perhaps on the solar plane, but perhaps above it or below it to avoid any gravitational anomalies, debris, asteroids, comets, or possible discovery by other vessels. The Fourth Fleet would lose normal data connection with the ISAB at the speed of light, and the Geth would be arriving about twelve minutes later, traveling at Mark Nine. If someone on the _Kilimanjaro_ were paying attention, the loss of connectivity would be an alert, and bring the Fleet to a Yellow Alert status; an assumption of a possible attack.

The _Normandy_ would be there another twelve or fifteen minutes later.

" _Joker, punch it."_ There was no mistaken the vox'ed tone of Humanity's First SPECTRE as she ordered the Helmsman to go full flank, the _Normandy_ -Class Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate already beginning to accelerate as the countdown began, the numbers growing steadily smaller as Charles looked upon the projected flight plan, seeing the blip that was the _Normandy_ ; one vessel against a system filled with unknowns. With the ISAB down, they didn't know the positions or configurations of the Alliance Fourth, any of the current projections of planets or comets, and of course no communications. The _Normandy_ couldn't warn the _Kili_ or any of its associated vessels of the threat bearing down on them now. All they could do was gun for it and hope that the Fourth had the situation under control with the Frigate only needing to provide minimal aid.

Two hours, forty-six minutes, and eighteen seconds from now.

* * *

Seaman Monica Negulesco sat in her 'crash' seat in the SSV _Normandy's_ MedBay, the fold down chair bracketed against the inner hull of the medical department, strapped into the contraption as was necessary during Red Alert Status. As the youngest and lowest-ranking member of the _Normandy's_ medical trauma team, Monica filled in the role of 'lowest man in the totem pole', though she was in fact a woman; the rule still applied. Most of her duties revolved doing the 'grunt' work of the Dispensary; accounting for medications, organization, cleaning and disinfecting, and the thousand-and-one 'Hey You' details that any E-2 and E-3 got their teeth sank into, just like any other lower-ranking Enlisted Member of the systems Alliance Military, regardless of the Service Branch. Realistically, the Hospital Corpsman knew she was luckier than most; she didn't have to stand Watch, she didn't have to repair, fix, or clean pipes or conduits for the Bosun's Mates or the Chief of the Deck, and working the Dispensary was actually a fun gig. She was the equivalent of an office visit nurse on some colony, which was something she was kind of hoping she could do once she served her four. There was never a shortage of jobs in the medical field, and going Navy meant she got the right kind of training and credentials that employers looked for. Plus, if she got rated into a specialty, that would only improve her future.

Being strapped to a crash seat and possibly heading to a war wasn't what she had in mind when she raised her right hand and took the Oath of Service.

" _How you holding up, Nugee?"_

Lord she hated that nickname.

Monica looked to her immediate left to see, armored in her totes awesome HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor(!), her Section Leader Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder; the Angel of Illyeria herself. When Negulesco had gotten orders to ship out on the _Normandy_ , she hadn't even connected her orders to the vessel that had single-handedly saved Eden Prime, thinking that surely there was _another_ Frigate with the same name? No, she had gotten orders for THE _NORMANDY_ , captained by the Lion of Elysium (and SPECTRE!) Jane Catherine Shepard. And then her supervisor was none other than the Angel, too! Monica had EN-Mailed her parents that (along with a few pics, stills, and even a selfie with Ryder smirking next to her), much to their shock. Most everyone in Humanity knew the names Shepard and Ryder. But for Monica Negulesco, eighteen-years old and on her first vessel, those names meant something more.

She had been born on Elysium, after all.

"Good, Chief." Monica lied. She had a great deal more than butterflies in her stomach; she had a team of acrobats doing flying trapeze acts throughout her guts. The Seaman wasn't sure if she was going to accidentally _poop_ herself at the thought of _holy mother of god we're going to war!_ When she had joined, the Geth were a boogieman story told to Quarian children in their little plastic bubbles. Now they were gunning for Mankind. And Monica had raised her hand for a front seat ride.

" _Music or the Bible."_

"E-excuse me, Chief?"

" _That's what helped me my first couple of times, Nugee."_ Lord, why did someone have to come up with a nickname that involved _her_ last name and something that rhymed with 'Newbie'? _"Some listen to music. Some read the Bible. I went with the Bible myself."_ Chief Ryder's helmeted head was looking at her, a Petty Officer looking out for her subordinate. _"Scared?"_

"Yes." That wasn't more than a whisper, barely caught by her Aldrin Labs' Onyx Light Armor's vox, spitting it out barely above detectable levels. "We're about to be shot up in a thin tin can in space when we can't even see outside or do anything about it! I'm frightened."

" _It's different for ground combat, that's for sure."_ Doc Ryder replied, her tone… casual. _"It's an interesting point you make, but that's when we rely upon the men and women whom we serve with, for them to do their jobs. When they get hurt? They rely on us to do our jobs. That's the trade off."_

"I've never patched anyone up before." Monica squeaked, gulping down the lump in her throat as she gripped at her PlastiGel restraints for the comfort of holding onto something. "I've poked and prodded, but I've never seen anyone… jacked up before." She wasn't even sure she _could_ stand the sight of blood. She'd seen a little, cuts and scrapesdue to being a kid on an agrarian world. But she'd never see someone with missing skin and the insides… out. And there were things much worse than that. Instant depressurization. Fourth degree burns. Kinetic impact. Asphyxiation. Severance. All of those were swirling in her mind. All likely possibilities when two Naval vessels decided to trade fire.

" _When the time comes, just save one, and you'll know."_ The Angel told her, her blue eyes peering through the visor of her helmet, steady and assured. _"People think what we do is heroic, but honestly it's as simple as keeping the blood in and keeping them breathing. As long as you're doing that, you're doing your job. It doesn't say anything less of you when you're in a situation that's over your head. Just do what you know, and you would have bought a patient time."_

"Was… was that what it was like for you? On Elysium?" Negulesco asked her superior, feeling curiosity get the better of her. Chief Ryder had been a thirteen year old _girl_ when she decided to up and jump in the middle of the Assault of Elysium to help people left for dead. Monica had _really_ looked up to the Angel when she was a kid, so totes impressed on what someone only a little older than herself could accomplish. She had a poster of Jane Shepard and Sara Ryder posing for some PicOp for some e-mag, and of course _The Fires Of Heaven_ vid poster, too. The Lion was awesome, of course, but Monica had always looked up to the young and effervescently playful Sara Elaine Ryder.

Now she was working at the Angels' side.

" _Yes… but worse."_ The helmeted head looked away for a moment, and the Hospital Corpsman got the sense that the Navy Corpsman was reliving some of that time. _"I didn't know much back then. I learned through trial-and-error, seeing what Doctors did and doing a bad job mimicking them. Honestly, I'm really surprised that none of the people I worked on had died by accident, though mostly I was stuffing Curlex into wounds, binding it in place, dabbing MediGel on some of the lesser wounds, and immobilizing broken limbs. Seeing a hall full of people waiting to die?"_ The helmet turned back to her. _"It was sickening. I understand why they did it, as most of those people were shot in the chest or the belly, and required serious medical care that would have taken a team, surgery, and providers away from people who had a better chance. I did what I could, putting in IV's while stopping bleeding and even using a skin stapler incorrectly, I found out later on. Those people in that hallway didn't care how young I was or how bad I sucked. I was there for them when they needed someone. The guardian angel."_ That part the young woman knew.

"My father was one of them." The Corpsman admitted to the E-5 sheepishly, something she hadn't told Ryder about. "He… he took a round to his chest, just below the ribcage and the diaphragm. He was having slow internal bleeding in his stomach, and… and they left him to die." Monica had to blink back tears, remembering learning how close to death her father had been. She was only nine at the time during the Assault, gratefully nowhere near any attack by mere circumstance. Her father, a police officer, had responded with courage and honor, pulling people away and protecting them before some pirate or slaver shot him through his Light Patrolman Armor meant for civilian-grade weapons and not high-powered military arms. "You stapled his wound close, gave him an IV, and saved his life. I got to have a father for another nine years thanks to how young you were and how bad you sucked." That had Able Seaman Helen Lowe, sitting on the other side of the MedBay, snort out loud. "Were you scared?"

" _Terrified, honestly, but not in the way you think."_ The brunette replied. _"I had jumped Cit and landed in an active war zone because I was more brash than brains. Auntie was on Elysium, and no matter how many times I Chirped her or called her, she didn't respond."_ That had been a part of _The Fires Of Heaven_. _"I was scared for someone else, not myself. Not my brightest moment, but I wouldn't take it back for anything. Same here."_

"' _Only those prepared to go too far can possibly know how far they can go.'"_ That came from Doctor Karin Carolyn Chakwas in her own armor and crash seat across from them.

" _Ernest Hemingway."_ Chief Ryder informed Monica when the young woman looked to her, eliciting an 'ahhh' from her before she had to ask.

"Is he an actor?" That just got the Angel to sigh and shake her head.

* * *

T-Minus twenty-two minutes before reaching their destination, the SSV _Normandy's_ Op Alley screenwatcher pukes started getting returns, and Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele had already sent the order to her Gunners to lock and load, rock and roll. Magazines had been loaded into the Linear Acceleration Motorized Cannons that consisted of the Frigates' deck guns, each of the four pivoting defense weapons manned by her department personnel, men and women she personally browbeated to death to being fast and accurate on the trigger, while the GARDIAN Infrared Anti-Missile Systems were primed and charged. Her eight Deck Gunners were manning their stations, Augmented Relay HUD's displaying on the interior of their helmets' visors, giving them a real-time parity view of the space around the Frigate based on the sensors and scans. It was to enhance their aim, not relying on software or tracking programs, instead using hand-to-eye coordination to target inbound missiles, flyers, and even other starcraft. One really couldn't hack a passive scanner, though spoofing one _was_ possible, though extremely difficult in battle. Plus it gave her gun-bunnies a mountain of shit to brag about actually having 'a real job' in the Navy that didn't consist of looking at a screen or watching a dial. They shot at things for a living and protected the vessels' flanks.

" _Gunny? Mags are loaded with Samsonite Rounds, GARDIANs are set at sixty kilowatts, and two GUNGNIR Missiles are loaded and ready."_ Chief Petty Officer Robert Felawa informed her of the Weapons Division state-of-readiness. The LAM-C deck guns would be firing chemically-propelled rounds through a mass acceleration tunnel to lower the amount of heat produced, the fabrication of the rounds being an Iridium-laced Alumnisteel round measuring in the Imperial fifty caliber range. Each round struck at somewhere around four kiloJoules of force, and those LAM-Cs spat out ten rounds a second to shoot down missiles, fighter craft, drones, and any other near-range threats. There were two on the starboard side, and then two on port. The GARDIANs were calibrated at an one millimeter wavelength, oscillating at three hundred gigaHertz per second; the lowest setting to ensure maximum usage while conserving on power and thermalization., two to either side of the vessel as well. The GUNGNIR Missiles, what the boys in Ops Alley liked to call 'the Odin Spear' was a titanic-sized missile that normally was loaded onto Cruisers, and meant to crack a Turian _Raptor_ -Class Cruiser into pieces. It had a one point two kilogram anti-matter warhead suspended in a vacuum bottle, and would royally fuck up someone's day when any kind of matter decided to shake hands with the anti-baryon substance. Vanessa was looking forward to annihilating some Geth.

Hell, she hadn't even pulled out the big guns, yet. They had an Ace for when shit got _real_ nasty.

"Smoke? Tell Engineering to load up three of those probes that I had Doc Ryder manufacture the goodies for us." Steele told her direct subordinate, tapping at a few codes to keep the Gunners' field-of-view as crystal as possible while keeping an eye on ammunition, heat, power, and damages to Weapons. There were two dozen 'Science' probes that could be modulated for any number of uses, from communications to drilling, but an idea had come to her and the Lieutenant had talked to their resident SciTech Department Head on crafting a few goodies for when the _Normandy_ faced the Geth. Guns were good, but any serious student of history knew that _deception_ was just as good a a well-placed round. The idea in question was something she had actually seen in a movie, and wondered if it could actually work.

" _Which ones?"_ Smoke Felawa asked, the Weapons Crew Chief looking at the Weapons Chief through his helmet to ascertain just which brand of nastiness she wanted to field test.

"The WARLOCKs." Vanessa told her subordinate, her smile hidden in her helmet as she looked at the four options she had Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder and her SciTech team craft for her. The WARLOCKs were based off an invention from back in the early-21st Century, something that the _United States_ Navy had made for its Army when facing insurgents and terrorists in the Afghan/Iraq Wars. The enemy had been using portable communications as triggers to homemade munitions to blow up petrol-ran Armored Personnel Vehicles back then, so the Navy had crafted an anti-communications device that 'snowed' reception along certain frequencies by overpowering them with garbage transmissions, preventing improvised explosive devices from blowing up. Of course, no one connected to the 'Net with _radio_ anymore, instead using Light-Fidelity Communications. One couldn't 'snow' a laser-link with sound.

But light had its limitations.

Captain Jane Shepard had a movie night a few weeks back, and had delved into her love of old-ass movies and had the old _Avengers_ movie on. Steele had watched it mostly to be polite, but there had been a scene that had practically made her bolt out of her seat from the Officers' Galley to see if it were actually possible. Most everyone just destroyed comms buoys to deny long-range communications, but short-range communications from ships were essentially unstoppable… unless one physically got in between two ships (which was just stupid). But when she had seen the portion where Iron Man used his little hand lasers to fire upon Captain America's shield, and Cap using it as a _mirror_ …

Light was susceptible to reflection and refraction!

Steele had brought up the idea to Doc Ryder, who seemed pretty impressed with the idea. The Corpsman had crafted powdered diamondglas and coated the substance on a common laser-link to see if it would work. The initial test had been a success, so they had tested _how much_ was needed to disrupt Li-Fi communications, what percentage of coverage was needed in an area or coating a link in order to really disrupt communications, even just cutting it down by half.

Fifteen percent. Just fifteen percent by volume in an area or over a transmitter/receiver. That was easily doable.

Steele and Ryder had spent several hours testing it on other pieces of equipment; one of the spare Thermal Sensors that would normally go on the hull, an Electromagnetic Sensor, a Radiation Sensor, and a Light-Capture Sensor. While the WARLOCK wouldn't do anything to the EM Sensor or the Rad Sensor, it had worked beautifully against the Thermal Sensor and the Light-Capture Sensor. In just one day, Vanessa Steele recreated _jamming_ ; the ability to clog communications, but in interstellar space. The Captain had been pretty giddy at the thought, and was looking forward to the results.

The Geth were going to get their mechanical asses handed back to them with _chaff_.

" _We're getting telemetry at extreme ranges._ " Commander Mark Vanderloo announced, meaning that the _Normandy's_ screenwatchers were detecting signals at the AU-and-a-half range; the normal 'barrier' where ghost signals and pass/fail ratio for an actual contact was around fifty percent. Too much distance and distortion made seeing things at greater than a hundred and fifty thousand kilometers, an Astronomical Unit, dicey. At two hundred and twenty-five? It was like trying to find something while blindfolded. _"Picking up possible IFF tags."_ They were approximately fifteen minutes out from Trojan Four; that was about right for time and dispersement of fleet. It would be about twelve minutes ETA when the _Normandy_ would pick up anything at Trojan Four. The contacts must be at LaGrange Two; where Theseus and Feros were 'in front' of.

" _We're getting a clearer picture."_ Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley was hard at work at his Navigation terminal, inputing and trying to clear up the distortion, likely by realigning arrays to specified points.

" _Oh… oh shit! Multiple bogeys!"_ One of the screenwatchers called out from the Ops Alley, the LADAR Technician at the Thermal station sounding shocked. _"Five dozen returns and growing!"_

"That's more than a Turian Fleet." Steele announced, which wasn't to say the Ops Alley puke was incorrect; the Geth played by their own rules. It wasn't like they were having to feed themselves or cater to public opinion, after all. She looked up to the CIC's holographic overlay being displayed and saw the contacts being populated quickly… and numerously. Five dozen. Six. _Seven?_ Eighty-four fucking ships with no matching IFF signatures or handshakes?

No… ten _dozen_ ships!

" _That… can't be right."_ First Lieutenant Nicholai Yevseyenkov sputtered, his thick accent only punctuating it. _"_ Boshi moi… _that is more than_ two _Fleets! None of them are the Fourth?"_

" _We're not picking up any Alliance tags."_ Vanderloo replied, his tone ugly. _"We're in stealth, so the Geth aren't trying to hide identification or infiltrating our systems. The Fourth must be located somewhere else."_

" _We are picking up debris fields… and life pod markers."_ Pressley reported grimly, and that had Steele wince. Debris fields meant destroyed ships, and life pods were escaped crew, whatever low percentage was able to get off before the ship came apart in pieces. _"Looks like at least fifteen ruptured core signatures, and another six disabled vessels broken and scattered."_ That news hit like a metric tonne of bricks; twenty-one vessels… when the Fourth Fleet commanded thirty-seven. _"The largest I'm detecting… God, it's a Carrier by the amount."_

" _XO? I want telemetry to the biggest, juiciest target out there."_ Captain Shepard was dead intent not to fuck around. A _Marco Polo_ -Class Carrier had nearly two thousand souls on it. The Fourth Fleet had two Carriers, one a Fighter Carrier, and the other a Drone Carrier. Add the four Cruisers, six Destroyers, twelve Frigates and twelve Corvettes along with the _Kili_ , and who was to say what had survived?

" _I got the makings of a Dreadnought, same configuration as the ones spotted over Eden Prime. Six light-minutes away, Captain."_ XO Vanderloo replied a moment later, tapping out some commands to get him the biggest target within the reach of their sensors. _"Captain? We're to their keel."_

" _Gunny? Eject one of the Odins."_ The SPECTRE's armored visor looked right at her.

" _I want you to plant a MFOAB straight up that bitches' ass like it's prom night."_

Lieutenant Steele couldn't help herself; she giggled.

* * *

The proper military name for the missile was the Multi-stage Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery.

Everyone else just called it the _Motherfucker Of All Bombs._

During the First Contact War, when Turian Fleets hovered over Shanxi and a desperate Colonial Defensive Patrol tried to hold back the tide of aliens, they had learned, to their sorrow, just how unprepared and nearly-obsolete their technology was compared to the Palavenians. The weapons of Humanity required three to four times more hits to bring down a Turian _Hasti_ Soldier, and its vessels faired about in the same regard. The only actual real advantage that they had was that some of their more obsolete weapons were actually effective, such things as copper-tossers and fragmentary grenades still worked rather well.

Missiles were another effective tool.

In the arms race of the galaxy concerning a dozen different governments in Council Space, missile technology had been long since left behind with the invention of kinetic barriers, deemed rather useless considering that they were slower than main cannon rounds, and didn't piece through a ship, merely blowing up a bigger hole. Missiles were still used by ground forces, mostly as anti-aircraft and anti-vehicular weapons, but the idea of a rocket-propelled warhead coming at hypersonic speeds to blow up was a quaint thing amongst the civilizations of the galaxy when ships were armed with guns that could fire at a fraction of the speed of light. Ships were designed around a main gun, usually occupying eighty percent of its length for maximum velocity of a multi-kilogram round.

That was the case until Humanity had been discovered.

During _Operation: Repensium_ , Humanity's counterattack and rescue operation for Shanxi against the Turians, Fleet Admiral Jon Ulysses Grissom, one of the greatest heroes Humanity had ever produced, had taken the fight right into the teeth of not one but _two_ Turian Fleets. He had no idea how badly outmatched First Fleet was, but his sole intent was to hurt them as badly as possible so as to drop ground forces to relieve the beleaguered colonists and forces upon the colony. Twenty vessels lead by the SSV _Everest_ had flew into the gauntlet of waiting Turian vessels, Hierarchy Captains practically laughing their fringes off with the telemetry readings of Humanity vessels. Every Alliance Class was smaller by half to its Turian counterpart, possessed no kinetic defenses, and still used _chemical propellants_ for weaponry. The Fleet Admiral-in-Charge of the pacification and _hastism_ of Shanxi, Fleet Admiral Augustus Kremlivius, had actually ordered his Captains to _hold fire_ to let the pitiful warships get within closer range so that the Fleets' _fighters_ could get some kills in.

What he hadn't expected was that Humanity was armed to the teeth with ship-killing missiles.

Due to the low amount of Element Zero discovered on Mars in the Archives, Humanity had been severely stringent with the mineral, using it only for fleet vessel engine cores. No weapon was ever crafted with Eezo, and no high-gain energy manipulation device was ever created, meaning that Humanity had never discovered kinetic protective technology on its own. When its forces fought the Turians on the fields of Shanxi, they still fought with rounds stuffed into compressed packets of gunpowder called caseless ammunition. Surprisingly, they worked; the rounds were too _slow_ to activate the kinetic shields of _Hasti_ Soldiers, and the high-impact ceramic armor meant to shrug off higher velocity yet smaller surface area rounds were quickly cracked and compromised by hypersonic bullets the size of a Human thumb. The death toll was alarming for the Turians, especially when farmers and soldiers rigged every piece of trash and unsuspecting item with homemade explosives, introducing the Turians to the concept of IED's. _Hasti_ Commanders hadn't been amused losing soldiers to teddy bears and coke cans.

In space, it was so much worse.

Admiral Grissom, former Captain of the Charon Expeditionary Vessel _Excelsior,_ hadn't held back at all. He didn't know why the 'Raptors' hadn't blasted him out of the black as he led his twenty ships to engage the enemy, and he hadn't really cared, either. He flew his vessels within a light-minute of the Turian Fleets and unleashed every missile that was loaded in a pod at the sixty vessels he was facing… all five hundred of them. Since Humanity never had a force to fight up against, they had remained with a technology they had known well; missile technology. And then they improved upon it to destroy starships in case they ever _did_ face a hostile race (or themselves). Those five hundred missiles had clogged up the sensors of the Turians, making the screenwatchers chuckle at the sight of chemical propellant munitions flying towards them at a speed that wasn't even a fraction of lightspeed; they seriously had to compute it to a slower standard, a multiple of the speed of sound. Some wondered if the fuel would run out before the missiles reached their targets four minutes later after launch, traveling at a _quarter of a single percent_ of lightspeed.

Their amusement turned to horror when five hundred missiles began pinging radiological alarms at a distance of twenty light-seconds.

It was far too late by then.

Sixty Turian vessels spun up their GARDIAN Laser Arrays to protect their ships, but it was well past the point of no return. Turians learned, to their horror, that Humanity had created missiles that had a Depleted Uranium tipped-shell meant to pierce ship hulls, designed to explode forward to penetrate further in to cause even more damage when the main warhead, a fifteen kiloton nuclear device, went off. When the missiles reached the kinetic barriers of the Turian Hierarchy Vessels, the DU shells slammed into it… and burst forward _past_ the shields, never breaking through them, yet still sending their payload towards the vessel under its protective envelope. A quarter of the missiles had been shot down, but not nearly enough. Four hundred and seventy-five missiles homed in on sixty vessels and delivered Humanity's response explosively. Every vessel Destroy-Class and smaller was utterly destroyed from the several nuclear explosions contained within their own kinetic shielding, the defenses reflecting all the damage _inside_ before finally giving way. Half of the Cruisers were destroyed as well, and the singular Dreadnought had to limp back with a complete loss of its kinetic emitter arrays, sensor packages, and dignity, defenseless, blind, and smarting from a knock-out blow. What should have been an easy victory had instead be a resound loss.

Admiral Grissom's response is still echoed to this day; _there isn't a problem we have yet encountered that we can't solve with high explosives_.

Needless to say, the galaxy was less-than-amused to be introduced to a barbarically-backwards species wielding nuclear spears that could pass right through a shield.

For the past two and a half decades, Humanity and Alliance Command realized that missile technology was their Golden Goose. It would take decades and billions of Cit Credits to retrofit every Naval vessel in Council Space to protect itself from Humanity's sole military advantage, practically bankrupting most of the minor species and introducing economic depressions to the Council Species if they dared tried. And the best part was that missile technology was _cheap_. Humanity could make ten _thousand_ missiles for the price of one Corvette, and their Alliance ships were already designed with the thought of missile defense in mind, having multiple hulls to prevent deep penetration. For once, being backwards had an advantage.

So of course Mankind decided to improve upon their one-trick pony.

In the Systems Alliance Navy, there were about thirty styles of missiles. Nuclear, Anti-matter, EMP burst, Thermal burst, Radiological burst, Duel-Purpose, High-Explosive/Anti-Vessel (HEAV), Hull Penetrating… options for facing against anything and everything. Most every single one of them was designed to work _around_ kinetic shielding for maximum damage, and even a cheap missile that got past a barrier without breaking it became a great deal more effective when the same shield reflected all the energy right back to the ship. The Turian Hierarchy had introduced the tactic of actually _turning off_ their shields if ever facing Humanity again to avoid suffering the same fate as they had in the Relay 314 Incident… though that meant their vessels were more vulnerable. The backwater species had a trump card no one had figured out a way to get around yet.

That certainly didn't stop the Alliance Navy from building bigger and better missiles, either. Far from it.

The latest innovation in missile technology was the Multi-stage Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery; the Motherfucker of all Bombs.

The weapons designer who came up with the designed signed the schematic with a quote; " _Guaranteed to piss the Council the fuck off in 3.2 seconds. Expect a war with a very frightened Hierarchy afterwards._ " Three had been made during initial manufacture, lab-tested on computers and later in a trail run in a black system that had one M-Class Red Dwarf Star and an asteroid belt for Naval ships to use as a playground. The MFOAB had performed as promised; a one kilometer-sized asteroid had been turned into space dust, an imaginary Dreadnought if the need ever arose.

The Systems Alliance Navy, of course, ordered a dozen.

The SSV _Normandy_ had one of them.

* * *

In later months after the Battle of the Citadel, in the Systems Alliance Military Academy based in Baltimore in the United North American States, military professors would go over the tactics of the SR-1 SSV _Normandy_ to teach Cadets on the principles of both Basic Spatial Tactics, and its Upper Classmen equivalent, Advanced Spatial Tactics. Many noted that the _Normandy_ was a unique vessel with a unique crew, generally rated as some of the best in their domains, and then put aboard the same ship. Its tactics in the skies of Eden Prime were noted as being hyperlethal against the Geth that couldn't even see the Frigate while its Weapons Officer self-ejected probes stuffed with explosives and shot out using air pressure to maintain stealth while damaging and destroying Geth ships. Its use of varying wavelengths and intensities of its GARDIAN lasers was practically studied with a nanoscope, the telemetry and data showing what varying conditions would bring out more success for a Gunner who would opt between killing a vessel with a sharp, powerful blast, or powering it down to merely take out the thrusters on a Fighter. Its use of 'fake' distress beacons, boffing fake ship signatures, and even using a General Dynamics M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle as a boarding vessel by blasting it out of the cargo bay with air pressure and 'flying' it with its jump thrusters were all studied and taught to Cadets who listened in awe at the sheer _insanity_ of a Frigate Captain and its crew.

But perhaps a class favorite was simply known as the _Prom Night Special_.

The maneuver came with the standard set of warnings to the Cadets; there was only one Stealth Vessel in all of the Systems Alliance Navy. To attempt to fly into another vessels' keel and targeting its thrusters, while preferred, was an unlikely scenario. It was noted that the rear of a vessel, like any other armored vehicle, was its weakest point; thrusters weren't armored, and kinetic defenses didn't bother trying to defend against the fusion torch of burning Heavy Helium while traveling at sub-FTL. Any Captain worth their salt always kept that fact in mind whenever engaging against hostiles, much like any Ground Commander would tell their Privates or Naval Ground Forces to mind their six. No one wanted to get shot in the ass.

No one wanted a _Prom Night Special_. Except as a delivery device.

The SSV _Normandy_ had its advantages, of course. Being a vessel meant to disguise its profile against sensor technology was a big boon. The fact that it faced a species that was completely reliant on electronic detection certainly didn't hurt either. When the _Normandy_ arrived for what would later be known as the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros), the double Fleet of Geth vessels simply didn't know that the Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate was there, giving it complete freedom of maneuver, which its Captain exploited judiciously by flying within teeth range of a Dreadnought and proceeded to launch the most powerful missile in Humanity's arsenal straight into its thrusters and reactor core.

The missile in question being the Multi-stage Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery.

The name of the missile itself was a joke; it was meant to mess with the Council. Fusion missiles were generally low-yield nuclear warheads that Humanity used during the Skyllian Blitz to blast 'non-Hegemony' vessels into irradiated ruins whenever they were detected in Alliance Space. Really, it was just invented so someone could come up with a legitimate sounding name for its _true_ description; the Motherfucker of all Bombs.

Because, essentially, that's what it was.

While the rest of the galaxy's navies were playing catch-up with missile technology (for its obvious advantage), Humanity enjoyed the fact that it was the leader of the pack in something, and intended to keep that edge. Nuclear power, while destructive, was catching heat from the Council. The Systems Alliance enjoyed the notoriety, and instead of backing away from the threat of sanctions, decided to come up with something _worse_.

Basically, the MFOAB was a missile with a destabilized Eezo Core attached to the nose.

Inside the warhead was a specially-crafted device that was, in essence, the reactor core of a General Dynamics's M577 GRZLY Armored Personnel Carrier, enriched with Beryllium, and set within a microsystem that all but guaranteed a runaway meltdown, creating what everyone feared; a core detonation. While placed upon a missile rack upon a vessel, it was attached to a ships' cooling system to keep the energized core functioning properly in a low-powered state, actually adding a small boost to the ships' electrical systems and capabilities. Disconnected, it would last about five minutes (or less, depending on the arming sequence) before going catastrophic. Upon a space vessel, it was a death sentence for ship and crew.

Actually, that's exactly what the Systems Alliance Navy wanted. Which was why they had a dozen of them. More than enough to scare off even the Turians.

One entire class session of Advanced Spatial Tactics in the Systems Alliance Naval Academy was devoted to the _Prom Night Special_ ; when a one-hundred and fifty-five meter Frigate cracked a nine-hundred meter Geth Dreadnought in half.

The quote that Humanity's First SPECTRE gave in where to deliver said missile, and likening it in its manner of delivery, was quite popular with the Cadets.

So was the result.

* * *

" _I want you to plant a MFOAB straight up that bitches' ass like it's prom night."_

Commander Mark Vanderloo stood there speechless. Had he heard that right?… yes, yes he had. Humanity's First SPECTRE was going to attempt to kill an actual Geth Dreadnought, while in stealth, by delivering an overpowered exploding Eezo Core into its tailpipe, detonating it, and likely the Dreadnoughts' own core, wiping it out of existence.

"We'll need at least a fifteen second window to get out of the envelope if that Dreadnought's core goes supercritical." Vanderloo advised, looking at the battlemap hovering in the CIC, thinking it over. "We can use the Steele Maneuver to deliver the MFOAB, blow it out by air and give us time to pull a Crazy Ivan and get out of range." Being near a core when it went supercritical was a terrifying ordeal. And generally the larger the ship, the larger the result, and the more intense the effect. For a Dreadnought to go supercritical measured somewhere in the range of _small nova_ in terms of destructive power. Anything within a twentieth of an AU would get pulverized. Actually, there were a fair amount of Geth ships that were within that range of the Dreadnought. Lots of birds for one Eezo-detonating stone. "It looks like we can clear out about another ten vessel potentially with this strike, Captain."

" _The more, the merrier."_ The Human SPECTRE replied through her helmets' vox, sounding a little _too_ amused. Then again, it was the Geth. _"When we strike, I want us to ride on the radiation wake and open up with everything we've got to strike out on anything within range. Shields will be down from the high-gain radiation, but Geth sensors and shields will be down too. I want as much fucking debris in my sky as possible."_

" _We can do that."_ Came the voice of Flight Lieutenant Jeffery 'Joker' Moreau, sounding enthusiastic. _"We'll probably have to dock and decon afterwards, scrub the sensors and make sure no one pisses green afterwards. But I'm game."_ Their pilot was a highly-talented maniac with a perchance of pulling insane maneuvers with the vessel to avoid damage and getting closer. Mark didn't doubt Moreau was going to live it up and talk shit to other pilots if they survived this bout of madness. Pilots were like that.

"Nav? Pre-plot all existing positions and plot course for engagement of as many of the Cruisers and Destroyers as possible." That wake would blind them as well, but they had physical camera to visual see if necessary. With their backs to the supercritical mass explosion, they would technically have the old-school advantage of having their backs to the sun, 'blinding' the Geth to their approach. "Make sure we plot course corrections to steer clear of any secondary critical core mass explosions if we land a lucky hit and light up a Cruiser."

" _Easily done."_ Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley replied, sounding chipper. With the knowledge of what the Geth had done to Eden Prime, Therum, the _Horizon_ , and now possibly the Alliance Fourth Fleet, everyone was looking forward to having a little old-fashion revenge at the Geth's expense for a change. It was as Jane said weeks ago; they were the tip of the spear.

And now they had the perfect opportunity to make it hurt.

The next couple of minutes were tense as the SSV _Normandy_ flew _into_ a Geth Fleet formation, heading towards where the flagship of the Fleet was located right at the center. The only words spoken were the necessary updates as the seconds ticked by, several members on the Bridge almost afraid to say anything louder than a whisper, as if their voices would cause the Geth to find them. Not once were they targeted or shot at as they flew ever closer to the nine-hundred meter long Dreadnought that was no doubt the Command-and-Control vessel for the Geth. If it was anything like an Alpha Prime unit, then destroying it could subsequently put the rest of the Geth Fleet into turmoil without their 'brain'. Mark was pretty sure that was what Jane was banking for; command assassination. It took five minutes for the Steal Frigate to reach its destination. It was a very tense five minutes.

"Captain, we've approached the beginning of the Danger Close zone." The XO called out. "Fifteen light-seconds from Dreadnought Designation-Alpha, bow pointed aligned with it keel." The CIC map showed the _Normandy_ essentially in the middle of a Fleet of a hundred and twenty ships, every single one of them the enemy. But Captain Jane Shepard had eyes only for the prize, and the Lion of Elysium never settled for anything less that the biggest, nastiest, juiciest targets on the battlefield, either on ground or in space. The Geth were about to learn the same lesson Elias Haliat learned several years prior when the redheaded N7 executed him live on the ExtraNet just so everyone would know he was dead… and who had pulled the trigger.

" _Vanessa? Prepare to launch MFOAB in three-zero seconds, initiate with air launch."_ Humanity's First SPECTRE ordered, her voice like iron. _"Joker, fly us as close as you can to those Cruisers so we can carve them up. I don't want our Gunners feeling left out."_

" _You know, this actually reminds me of my first boyfriend."_ Lieutenant (j.g.) Vanessa Steele said as she tapped in the command that would fill the missile tube with air to initiate an air pressure launch. Normally, missile tubes were equalized before firing, its atmo sucked out. But this time they were using the 'Steele Maneuver' and launching it with air as to maintain stealth. There wasn't an Internal Emissions System for missile launches, the deck guns, or the spinal-mounted main cannon. If they fired any of those, it _would_ be seen even if the ship still technically remained invisible. _"I remember the first time he suggested we do anal. Prom night, no less."_

" _Yeah? How'd that work out?"_ Mark scoffed at the banter between the Weapons Chief and their Commanding Officer, Jane sounding amused.

" _Pretty much like this."_ Vanessa replied.

And hit the launch button.

* * *

Author's Notes: Next chapter? It's peanut butter jelly time!

This chapter was more like a _Star Trek_ episode where I show you a little of the day-to-day Navy. In fact, I borrowed a good deal from Star Trek.

The screenwatchers all look for something that modern-day Navy Sailors look out for, but I futurize it. Cherenkov Radiation is a real thing, and I describe it factually. It would be the space-age equivalent of looking for ship wakes, which we still do. Thermal signatures would be 'lookouts' for the physical object on the horizon (again, we still do that, if not in Crow's Nests). Reber Signatures is named for Grote Reber; the first Radio Astronomer. This is SONAR concept but in space. X-Ray Bandwidth is above Infrared, so this would be 'electronic' viewing, similar to Radar. As the Navy works off of Sphere of Influence/Line of Sight tactics, the better/further they see, the better the effect. Can't hit shit if you can't see it coming.

LCARS - Library Computer Access and Retrieval System - The databank/server used in any Starfleet vessel for access information, download, upload, and recording purposes. Thank you, Memory Alpha!

Charles Pressley was known to be at Elysium on the _Agincourt_ (a Frigate based on the name), but I also made him a part of the Canon-based Threshaca Raids, in which I describe faithful to canon. He also was a responder to Mindoir, and cradled a possible Shepard; the broken form of a little girl. More on that later.

I made the vessel of Mass Effect much like our own, with multiple weapons systems, detection systems, tactics, and ideas. Naval vessels all have deck guns, anti-missile guns, missile pods, and even aircraft in the name of defense and blowing up the other guy. I pretty much made the _Normandy_ like the _Nathan James_ at this point in time. Which, considering that the fictional _Nathan James_ is a real-life Arleigh Burke-Class Destroyer (in fact, all the panoramic shots are of the USS _Dewey_ and the _Halsey_ , the US Navy steaming them off to the middle of nowhere so the cameras could get clips of a modern destroyer without land or buildings in the way!)

Monica Negulesco will be a normal Hospital Corpsman you'll be seeing in the rest of this ARC, Robin to Sara's Batman. Because everyone needs a sidekick.

GUNGNIR - The name of Odin's Spear.

The WARLOCK system - Most Army Vets will know this term, and any ECM Navy geeks would to. This is the anti-RCIED device that has saved thousands and thousands of lives on both sides of the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan; military, civilian, local national, and other. I specifically liken it to the WARLOCK DUKE, a jamming device powered by a vehicle, in layman's terms. Theoretically, infrared is an electromagnetic radiation, so glass wouldn't distort it… though polarized glass does work quite well.

In the MEU, they would most certainly _have_ to use laser-link light-fidelity communications if they ever wanted to talk to anyone in the next year. Light reaches Pluto from the Sun in approximately 5 hours and 40 minutes… at the speed of light. At the speed of sound in an interstellar medium? Five _centuries_.

The MFOAB - I had originally created this for _The Third Unification War_ in "A Fox Amongst The Wolves", which would have involved the Hierarchy defending Palaven against the Seperatists in a super massive Dreadnought I coined 'a Deathstar'. The MFOAB was to be Humanity's secret weapon, deployed to save the Turians' bacon by Captain Steven Hackett to destroy a crust-buster planet-killer vessel. It was originally going to be an Anti-Matter device (which was to be illegal in Council Space) but as I said earlier; I thought up of something worse. Basically took a page out from _Star Trek_ and used a warp core as a missile, since they're always dumping one for some sort of insanity. Works for Gene Roddenberry, James T. Kirk, and Jean Luc Picard, so why not?


	27. The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two, II

" _Ummm… what in the actual fuck?" - CMDR Clark, CO SSV_ Ypres _, Battle of LaGrange Point Two, 2183_

 **SSV** _ **Ypres**_ **(IV FLT), 0.25 AU from LaGrange Point Two, Feros Space, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

Author's Note: Meet the IVY League, the Alliance Fourth (IV FLT).

* * *

The SSV _Ypres_ sat at a low-emissions state on Red Alert Status, the vessel in DEFCON TWO status while the crew was in REDCON FOUR, fully armored and sealed. Most everything that was considered an active system had been turned off for two reasons; to reduce their thermal signature, and to save what little power they had left. The battle not even twenty-two minutes prior had taken its toll on the Fourth Fleet when a hundred and twenty vessels of Geth make and design had come roaring into the battlespace at full flank, firing their main cannons at the thirty-seven vessel of the IVY Fleet (known as that due to its Roman Numerical designation, IV). There had been little warning of their coming, only seven minutes prior the IntraSystem Alert Broadcast freezing up without any further updates. Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer had called the Fleet into DEFCON THREE, the vessel that were 'parked' in LaGrange Point Two beginning to spread out in an action formation as smaller vessels such as _Hastings-_ Class Frigates and _Ranger_ -Class Corvettes began maneuvering further away to expand upon the Fleets' sphere of influence, to present a large threat while putting more space in between the vessels.

The maneuver hadn't even been complete when three Corvettes began reporting dozens of boogies on their LADARs.

The battle had been an absolute disaster; a hundred and twenty Geth vessels had practically blitzkrieg'ed the IVY Fleet while firing rounds into the Alliance vessels, outnumbered near four-to-one. Everyone had been bombarded as desperate defenses and maneuvers had been conducted, every ship rocked and bracketed by Naval fire by the Geth. Within three minutes, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer had been calling for a full retreat, the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ taking an absolute beating from the Geth Dreadnought and at least a dozen Cruisers while spitting out missiles and main cannon fire in return as best it could against the onslaught… and losing. Over a dozen Alliance vessels went supercritical as rounds and damages destabilized or pieced cores, vessels and souls disappearing in a nova-like flash of fire and radiation in mere breaths, while another half-dozen were shattered from the heavy bombardment, a few Destroyers and Frigates opting to go on the offensive to by the Fleet time to retreat, reorganize, and repair. Brave souls lost to war, giving their lives for their fellow Man.

The _Ypres_ had survived out of sheer stupid luck.

"Master Chief? How are we looking?" Commander Blaine Clark (SAN, CO _Ypres_ ) asked through his Captain's Podium, engaging the system to talk to the Master of the Boat, the Chief Bosun's Mate.

" _No questions asked, Skipper; our spine is broken and we're dead in the water."_ Master Chief Petty Officer Hershel Zane replied over his armors' transmitter, the conversation between Captain and the Master Chief. Blaine frowned at the update. If the main spar had been broken, that meant the _Ypres_ was permanently; the Alliance would literally have to tear the vessel apart in order to replace it, and it was seriously cheaper just to build a _Hastings_ -Class vessel from the frame up. It would never go FTL again, never make a translation through a Mass Relay, and never serve in a patrol. It wasn't even fit for a Colonial Air Force CAP. Those motherfuckers had crippled _his ship_ , a Cruiser round having gone through top deck to beam right amidships. The Main Deck Galley was gone, as well as the Magazine Locker and a part of the main cannon fuselage. Another round had shattered two of its main thrusters as well. No teeth, broken spine, and with one leg, the _Ypres_ hadn't been able to retreat with the rest of the Fleet. So the Commander had everyone power down the vessel to make it look like the Frigate had suffered a 'power kill'; where everyone was dead by the vessel still intact. They were playing dead and monitoring the Geth Fleet for the rest of the recuperating Fourth Fleet, being the sole eyes and ears for the Fourth while they recovered somewhere around Feros' sole satellite, Vegna, using the celestial object as a shield. Whatever the Geth were up to, the Fourth wasn't their actual objective.

They had been shuttling ships to the planet instead of finishing off a Fleet. That confused Blaine.

"Make what repairs we can, and get our wounded up to snuff as soon as possible, Master Chief." The Commander killed the communication as he looked to the _Ypres'_ CIC, seeing the Geth formation in a protective posture, pretty standard one, too. Everything was being recorded and sent via tight-beam back to the IVY Fleet for both warning and analysis; the Frigate was likely the only vessel ever to have a chance to actually _study_ the Geth without having to fight them off. LaGrange Point Two was an absolute mess with core-detonated vessels and shattered hulks of Alliance ships, and the sight of those locations appearing on the holographic image had his heart twist at the sight; his ship and his ninety-man crew could have easily been one of them. He knew each vessels' name, their Captains, and even most of their Command Deck Officers. His sight went to where the _Marco Polo_ -Class Carrier _Francis Drake_ laid; the twelve-hundred man vessel had gone in a cataclysmic explosion when its core went supercritical, almost assuredly taking all hands along with it.

Including his wife, the _Drake's_ Weapon Officer, Lieutenant Commander Sophia Clark.

 _Fight now, cry later,_ he told himself.

A ping on the CIC had Blaine looking up to the holographic image only to see the Geth Dreadnought… disappear?

" _Holy shit!"_ His XO announced, Lieutenant Commander Leigh Ann Mayer's tone pure shock as her helmeted eyes went wide, looking at him. _"What the fuck just happened! Where's that Capital Ship, Ops!"_

" _Ma'am! I'm reading… I'm reading a_ core detonation! _"_ Lieutenant (junior grade) Danielle Bender, the Ops Alley Chief, announced, her voice a mixture of confusion and awe. _"I don't believe it… but that Dreadnought just went_ supercritical! _"_

One could hear atoms collide on the Bridge of the _Ypres_ with that announcement… and then two seconds later a loud _whoop_ from Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid, the Frigates' Weapons Chief. That had Blaine looking at her.

" _Look at that power surge go!"_ The _Ypres_ Gunnery Chief hollered, obviously staring at the shockwave that was expanding at half the speed of light from where the Dreadnought once was. _"I don't know how or why it happened, but I could care less! A Dreadnought going supercritical is going to encompass half that_ Fleet _in radiation and static! They're going to be blind and mute!"_ The wave of Eezo radiation was spreading outward omnidirectionally, and there were several vessels about to be consumed. Some of them were close enough that they would be damaged as well… possibly destroyed.

" _Shit, she's right!"_ First Lieutenant Caden Stein, the _Ypres'_ Navigator, replied. _"Kinetic defenses will be down, too. Sir?_

" _They're_ vulnerable! _"_

"Ops? I want to know what the fuck happened to that Dreadnought, and I wanted to know five minutes ago." Clark informed his subordinate, Lieutenant Bender going to work by looking up and reviewing scans and sensors leading up to the supercritical event. "VI? Connect me to the _Kili_."

" _This is Kili Acting."_ A woman's voice came over the comm, not a man's. Rear Admiral Hannah Singer was Acting Commanding Officer with Admiral Kyle Singer injured due to shrapnel and suit malfunction. His status was still critical/unknown.

"Ma'am? _Ypres_ Actual. The Geth Dreadnought just went supercritical. Recommend retaliation." His Frigate wasn't going to be moving, not with two thrusters on the port side and her spine snapped in half. At best, he could fire missiles at extreme ranges and hope for the best. But what he could do was his job; conduct information and tactics to the rest of the Fleet and find ways to turn a situation into their advantage. If a core went supercritical, they would have approximately three to five minutes before the high-gain strong radiation force dissipated enough for the Geth to return to effectiveness. Until then, it was as his Navigator said; they were vulnerable.

" _We're moving a Cruiser, two Destroyers, and three Frigates to the location now."_ Singer's voice came over the CIC, her tone merciless. _"Find out what happened, Commander."_

" _Sir? I… I think it's one of_ ours _. Look!"_ Leigh Ann pointed out at something in the CIC, showing the current situation. In the ever-expanding bubble of radiation and fire from the Dreadnought's demise was… a fading in-and-out Alliance IFF tag. _"Are they fucking_ surfing _a core explosion wake? Who in their right mind would do that?"_ The tag was popping on and off too quickly to identify, but Mayer was right; someone had the audacity and the balls to ride upon a miniature nova.

" _We've got missile launches, too! GUNGNIRs!"_ Nova whooped as three streaking signals appeared on the CIC, the blinking signals jetting forth towards three targets; two Geth Destroyers and a Cruiser. _"That fucking ship is insane! And their pilot even crazier!"_ The missile acquisitions disappears into the ship signals, and one of the Destroyers disappeared from view, turning into a debris field. A catastrophic kill. The other Destroyer and the Cruiser went up as well.

" _I don't believe it! I know who that is!"_

"Talk to me, Helmsman." Clark replied, hearing the voice of Flight Lieutenant Lylia McLeod, the _Ypres_ ' main pilot.

" _I know those moves, sir!"_ The pilot's voice went up an octave in excitement. _"I went to Flight Academy with the guy that practically_ broke _every simulation record. I'd bet the next year's paycheck that's Jeff Moreau!_

" _That's the goddamn_ Normandy! _"_

Commander Blaine Clark looked to the tag, or where it once was. Had… had hope come in the form of the Lion?

" _Sir, Lylia might be right!"_ Danielle's helmeted head looked up, the Ops Chief looking to her Commanding Officer. _"I'm looking at the weirdest missile launch ever. It came out of nowhere, and get this! It used the Steele Maneuver! They shot it out with air instead of a launch! Vanessa Steele is the_ Normandy's _Gunnery Chief. She did that back on Eden Prime, and there's about a three second cross-sectional match of a missile right before it hits the Dreadnought! They literally got right up to the stern and shot a missile up that Dreadnoughts' ass!"_

" _Please tell me you got a recording to that. I'm going to touch myself to it later on."_ Nova quipped, studying the scenario as it occurred. _"Looks like we're getting secondary detonations from the shockwave! Two of the Destroyers and one of the Cruisers near the Dreadnought just went! That's… seven total!"_ There was no mistaking the jubilant joy in the Gunnery Chief's voice, the Ensign practically dancing at her station. _"_ SO _gonna touch myself to this later on!"_

" _ETA to intercept is forty-five seconds, Commander."_ Admiral Singer's voice came over the CIC, and Ensign Novalee Reid immediately stopped bouncing at her station, realizing her words probably got transmitted to a Rear Admiral. Oops. _"Blaine. Do something stupid for me._

" _Tell my daughter to pick up the phone."_

* * *

" _Captain? I'm… getting a hail."_

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) looked to Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, hearing his confused tone as his helmeted head looked at her. The SSV _Normandy_ was currently _surfing_ on a gigantic shockwave, a radioactive tsunami that the vessel was using to push them forward while keeping them from being targeted due to the hard radiation force being emitted. Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau was keeping speed with the wake, flying literally a kilometer in front of it at a speed where they would stay immediately in front of the blast coming from the ruptured Geth Dreadnought they had destroyed with a MFOAB, adjusting for maneuvers to strike out at any Geth vessel in range. Only a minute or so out from the blast, and they had already destroyed seven smaller vessels with missiles while Joker kept them from being obliterated. With that much strong radiation force expanding right behind them at half the speed of light, Jannie was honestly surprised that anyone _could_ detect them. Unless…

"Nav? Put them on." The Council Agent replied, thinking of the only other way someone could detect a vessel currently cloaked in a radiation bubble; Alliance Secured Communications BattleNet. That meant there was an Alliance vessel within an AU on the dark side of Feros they weren't seeing.

" _SSV_ Normandy _?_ _This is_ Ypres _Actual."_ It was a man's voice, and a familiar one. The Frigate's VI immediately accessed the LCARS for the potential duty roster of the _Hastings_ -Class Frigate, and came up with a name that Jannie did know; Commander Blaine Clark. They had gone to the Academy together.

"Blaine, it's Jannie." The Captain replied, feeling herself smile. When they hadn't detected any of the Fourth Fleet vessels in vicinity of LaGrange Point Two, she had feared the worst. "Where the hell are you guys hiding at?"

" _We're dead in the water, Red. Spine's snapped, cannon's gone, and missing half my thrusters. Crew's half-gone, too. We're playing dead."_ Shepard felt her heart sink at that, knowing what that meant for a ship and its Commander. Commander Mark Vanderloo was merely shaking his head at the news. _"We're practically venting heat into the loo to keep our emissions down, and keeping eyes on the Geth. How the fuck did you kill a Dreadnought?"_

"A MFOAB." The SPECTRE replied simply.

" _Umm… what in the actual fuck? You have one?"_

"Not anymore." That had Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele snort in response.

" _We're getting a handshake permission for IVY Fleets' BattleNet, ma'am."_ Mark informed her, toggling the KERBEROS Communications Protocol and verifying it. _"It's clean."_

"Connect us." Jannie replied, watching as the ships' CIC began to update with the tactical data from the Alliance Fourth Fleet's BattleNet; a Fleet connectivity suite to keep abreast of all the sensor data that all the vessels were collating, distributing it for omnidirectional security and defense, as well as positions and statuses. Nineteen vessel appeared on the far side of Feros, hiding on the day side in what appeared to be in the shadow of Feros' moon, Vegna. A simple percentage appeared next to every vessel, indicating its worthiness status.

" _Oh shit."_ Steele cursed as she looked at the same readings. _"They got their asses handed to them. Gunners, coming up on target eight, give them some steel rain and scorch marks in eight seconds."_ Jannie agreed with Vanessa's assessment; the Fourth was practically demolished. The highest rated vessel was barely sitting over forty percent effectiveness; half-dead, in other words. A _York_ -Class Cruiser, two _Nathan James_ -Class Destroyers, and three _Hastings_ -Class Frigates were moving to intercept, obviously to join in on the fun. All six were in the thirty plus percentage rating of effectiveness. Those ships were practically hanging on with WonderGel and prayer.

The _Kili_ herself sat at twenty-five percent. The flagship of the _Kilimanjaro_ -Class was three-quarters ineffective. God only knew how bad things were on the actual vessel.

" _Ma'am, the_ Quebec, _the_ Hogan _, the_ Chaucey _, and the_ Vimy _,_ Avon _, and the_ Langemarck _are moving to intercept two separate Geth Cruisers ahead of us."_ Vanderloo called out, the tagged Alliance vessels displayed on the CIC moving to a pair of Geth Cruisers that were beginning to turn to face the threat. _"They're going to get pulverized if they don't wait for the wake."_ Another Geth signal disappeared as the _Normandy_ engaged at knife-range on a Geth Destroyer, tearing it to pieces as it lost its shields with the wake of the radiation bloom. It would last perhaps another minute, and its effect another two to three before the Geth began to retaliate.

" _Quebec_ Actual, this is _Normandy_ Actual, pull back!" Shepard shouted over her Podium, engaging the BattleNet's intercom in the hopes of getting the Cruiser's attention. The Geth Cruisers were moving to expose their flank, and several small thermal blooms came from the _side_ of the vessels, not the front. "Shit. They've got broadsides." Alliance Cruisers and Dreadnoughts had that capability, but no others had as of yet. It seemed the Geth decided to have the Human tactic to engage at three compass points at once as well. The _Vimy_ disappeared from the holographic display several seconds later, replaced with a noted debris field. _Ninety Sailors_ , Jannie thought to herself as the _Chaucey's_ percentage dropped from thirty-two to twelve, while the _Hogan_ began to break apart. "Mark, we need in there. _Now_."

" _Intercept time is thirty-seven seconds at Mark Nine."_ Vanderloo replied immediately. _"But we can fire a WARLOCK and have it there in nine."_

"Steele? Punch them."

" _Fish launched at target designation Cruiser Andromeda and Betelgeuse."_ The Lieutenant replied, her voice tense. _"C'mon, babies, make momma proud."_ Another bloom of thermal energy reported that the Geth were firing again as the _Chaucey_ disappeared from the battlespace, breaking apart, while the _Hogan_ simply ceased to exist. _"Three… two… one…"_

The three altered probes struck in the area of the Cruisers. There was no indication if they worked or not.

" _Time-to-intercept, twenty-five seconds."_ Pressley called out. _"Shockwave will hit in twenty-eight, and God help our boys over there if they don't move their asses."_

There was another thermal bloom from the Geth ships as the _Quebec_ launched missiles… but there was no responding damage to the Alliance vessels as the _Avon_ and the _Langemarck_ continued to close distance. Not one percentage point was decreased from any of the three ships.

"…the fuck?"

" _They MISSED!"_ Vanessa shouted and laughed at the same time, slapping her Weapons Crew Chief in the shoulder, nearly knocking Chief Petty Officer Robert Felawa into his console in her celebrations. _"WARLOCKs are scrambling their light-capture devices! They're probably getting haze and distortions and can't aim!"_ Jannie watched as the _Quebec's_ missiles struck the Andromeda Cruiser, flaring up the vessel with its explosions. A few seconds later, the Cruiser was gone, replaced with a debris field on the holographic display. _"Yes!"_ Steele hissed out as she tapped something into her console. The _Avon_ and the _Langemarck_ went into knife-range of the Betelgeuse Cruiser, and micro-flashes of heat were detected. _"They're using GARDIANS. Must be out of missiles."_ That was the nice scenario. Shepard guessed that the Frigates were likely so damaged that their GARDIANS were likely their only offensive weapon left.

" _Quebec, Avon, Langemarck_ , turn to and head away from the blast radius. You've got about ten seconds." The Captain called out on the BattleNet, seeing the _Quebec_ and the _Langemarck_ beginning to turn and accelerate from the ever-growing wave of destructive force the _Normandy_ was barely in front of. But the _Avon_ wasn't turning… merely drifting.

"Normandy _Actual, this is_ Avon _Actual,_ " the sound of a woman's voice came over the intercom, steeped in pain and defeat, _"we only had seven of us alive anyhow on a dying vessel ready to go supercritical in about three minutes. We're dead in the water now, engines are gone, and we just wanted the chance to make those sons of bitches hurt. This is Ensign Mary Ellison, Quartermaster, signing off. Good night and good luck."_

"Godspeed, _Avon_." Jannie had to close her eyes to stop the sting of tears, but she didn't close her eyes to the sight of the CIC's holographic display as the _Normandy_ passed by the crippled Frigate traveling at Mark Five while the _Avon_ merely drifted before being consumed by the blast that was slowly dissipating, but still strong enough to annihilate the _Hastings_ -Class Frigate in less than a second. Thankfully, it was quick. "Log, note the time of call and loss of vessel and send it to my Ready Room for later review." There would be a great deal of letters to be written concerning the losses of the Fourth, but the crew of the _Avon_ would be noted as truly giving up their lives in a last-ditch effort to even the score. On a dying vessel, they had decided to hurt the enemy instead of abandoning ship, knowing it would be their last act. An award was a paltry thing to honor such courage and sacrifice, but that would be exactly what Shepard would make sure would be pressed into those Sailor's coffins and into the hands of their loved ones just so they knew the kind of men and women they were. " _Quebec_ , _Langemarck_ , your vessels aren't about to blow up, are they?"

"Normandy _Actual, this_ … yeah, _Quebec_ Actual." Jannie and Mark shared a look at the sound of a _young_ man. _"We're all in dire straits, ma'am. That's why we went, so the healthier ships had a chance at repairs."_

"Boshi moi…"First Lieutenant Nicolai Yevseyenkov breathed out through his vox, his tone in awe. _"Praise God for the courage of Men…"_ Several heads nodded in agreement, Jannie's included.

" _Quebec_ and _Langemarck_ Actual, this is Captain Jane Shepard, report to whatever is the nearest accessible airlock for cast-off while I send my shuttle to pick up your crews." Shepard was _not_ going to let those men die. "If you can fly out on your own, we'll pick you up."

" _There's only fifteen of us, ma'am, and we've got about thirty-seven minutes until our vessel breaks apart, so take care of the_ Quebec _first. They're the one with a containment leak."_ There was a pause. _"Oh, this is_ Langemarck _Actual."_

" _I think those ships are being commanded by Enlisted Sailors."_ Mark noted quietly, looking to the CIC display. _"Bridge crews must have been hit hard and then taken over by whatever was left."_

"Air Force?" The Captain immediately toggled the 1MC to alert Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway. "Prep for immediate cast-off and retrieval of the crew of the _Quebec_ followed by the crew of the _Langemarck_. I want every soul on the _Quebec_ on your shuttle in five minutes. They've got a containment leak and the possibility of no one knowing how to stop it. Medical, stand by for MASCAL for the _Quebec_ and then the _Langemarck_.Do whatever you need to save those boys. They piloted _wrecks_ to defend their brothers and sisters…"

"…and _we will not fail them_."

* * *

Seaman Monica Negulesco stood in stand-by at the Cargo Bay alongside the rest of the _Normandy's_ Medical Team, the Frigate still under DEFCON TWO Alert while in the vicinity of the Geth, whom had relocated further away from Feros after the destruction of their Dreadnought as well as another nineteen vessels due to the destruction of the vessel, its core rupture, and the ten targets taken down between the _Normandy_ and the additions of the IVY Fleet. The Geth fleet now hovered half-an-AU away from Feros, and with the _Normandy_ running under stealth, the synthetic race likely didn't know what had attacked it, and especially didn't know where its attacker was located. It bought them time for a quick Rescue and Recovery Op.

Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway, the Frigates' lone Colonial Air Force personnel and Personal Vehicle Pilot was currently piloting the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel " _Rey Kenobi_ " back from the SSV _Quebec_ , having collected the thirty-two surviving members from the _York-_ Class Cruiser. Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder had informed her a minute ago that a _York_ -Class like the _Quebec_ had something like four hundred Sailors on it… and only thirty-two had survived the Geth. The other vessel, the SSV _Langemarck_ , was actually going to host a part of the Engineer team to keep the vessel from failing them due to several energy drains and systems malfunctions when the _Hastings_ -Class Frigate had a Geth round clip its hull from bow to stern on the port side, practically peeling the ship apart. Out of ninety people, only fifteen were still left alive on the vessel. Shockingly enough, the _Langemarck_ was actually heading to two debris fields where lifepod transponders were signaling, indicating surviving crew. Now that the immediate threat was over, merely just on the horizon, the Frigate was actually going to try and collect some of the pods for retrieval. The so-called Captain of the vessel was, as Monica understood it, a rated Master-at-Arms Petty Officer along with the few Bosun's Mates and Electricians' Mates that had survived the near-death of their vessel when everyone else got vented out. First Lieutenant Greg Adams, Petty Officer (Third Class) Caroline Grenado, and Specialists Tali'Zorah nar Reyya and Niki'Raan nar Tombay were all waiting to one side to enter the shuttle as soon as the crew of the _Quebec_ disembarked so Chief Holloway could shuttle the Engineers to the _Langemarck_ to keep it together while the Frigate pulled lifepods out of the black.

Today had been a rather emotional day, and it was yet to be over.

The deployment ramp th the Cargo Bay opened to the sound of klaxons as rotating yellow warning lights on both the ceiling and the deck indicated where the Kiggs fields was when it activated to keep the atmosphere of the _Normandy_ in as the UT-47 Kodiak came soaring in, passing through the blue nimbus as steam waifed from its hull from the rapid thermalization from being in outer space to being inside a vessel as the Utility Transport Vessel hovered over to its proper landing spot before dropping to the deck.

" _Huh. Never actually been on the receiving end."_ Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder mused out loud next to Monica, the Seaman told to stick by Chief Ryder's' side. The Navy Corpsman had been an EMT on the Cit, of all places, answering calls on a Skybulance with alien EMT members. The gull-wing door of the shuttle popped open to reveal an absolutely stuffed shuttle filled with Sailors, loaded beyond safe capacity as several immediately disembarked to aid their fellow Sailors off the Kodiak. _"Help and assist anyone coming off so Valkyrie can go help the_ Langemarck. _"_ Chief Ryder announced as Sailors were coming off the small vessel, some of them looking worse for wear. A couple were being carried by their fellow crew members, obviously injured. Negulesco stepped in to help one Sailor who was barely able to walk, throwing one of his arms over her shoulder and assisting him to the Casualty Collection Point just ahead of the Kodiak Landing Pad as Able Seaman Helen Lowe assisted another Sailor. The crew of the _Quebec_ were being gathered in the CCP where Commander Karin Chakwas was already conducting triage, separating those who only needed minor assistance from those who needed intervention. Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams and Marshal Samantha Collins were helping out the 'minors' by doing basic questions and assessments, both having Basic Trauma Care through the Systems Alliance Colonial Army or the Systems Alliance Marshal Services while Petty Officer Ryder physically carried the last man on the shuttle on her shoulders, obviously unable to walk or unconscious. _"Last man out!"_ Chief Ryder called out as she carried her patient to the nearest safe location, not even in the CCP as she laid the patient on the floor and immediately began taking off the Sailors' helmet and chest piece.

Monica knew what that meant as she grabbed Ryder's' MedBag and hustled over to her.

The Navy Corpsman had already tilted the male Sailors' head back as he laid upon the deck, and the Hospital Corpsman couldn't help but notice how _young_ he was; her age, at a guess. Sara was giving him two breaths via mouth-to-mouth before she went over his chest and began to do chest decompressions, her hands joined together expertly and using her whole body in the act of Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. Ryder pumped fifteen times, the heel of her hand right on the Sailors' heart as she stimulated it before moving over to check him for breathing, her cheek over his mouth as she looked down his chest to see movement.

Monica just watched, awed at the mechanical precision and speed that Chief Ryder worked at, giving the Sailor mouth-to-mouth once again before going back to delivering chest decompressions. There was no wasted movement or time, everything done with precision and accuracy as Monica knelt by the Sailor with Ryder's MedBag, knowing she'd more than likely get in the way and slow the Chief down with well-meaning offers of help. Sara was an expert, and Seaman Negulesco watched in awe.

 _This_ was the Angel of Illyeria.

Chief Ryder was on her fourth iteration of chest decompressions when the Sailor coughed, sucking in a mouthful of air as Monica pulled out a Breather Cup and attached it to the Continuous Positive/Negative Airway Pressure Machine, sliding the cup over the Sailors' face as she turned on the breathing apparatus to help the Sailor get oxygen into his lungs and assist him in being revived. Chief Ryder had placed a monitoring sensor onto his chest to holographically project his vital signs over him, the Sailor unconscious but breathing.

They still had another thirty brother and sister Sailors to take care of.

"Monica? Assist Army and the Marshal; they're good at the basics, but that's it." Ryder told her as Negulesco complied, kind of hoping that she would be able to work at Chiefs' side, but knew better than to argue. This was her first MASCAL, and it would be smarter to put her with the simpler stuff that she knew in a more competent manner, but still having someone knowledgeable to assist her if she ran into issues. The Seaman moved over to where Sergeant Williams and Marshal Collins were taking vitals of the Sailors who didn't seem too injured as Negulesco went to her side, taking the next one in line as she looked over to where Doctor Chakwas, Chief Ryder, Seaman's Lowe and Basheer were working on the others; nine Sailors who may or may not make it. The shuttle was taking off with the Engineering team to go save the _Langemarck_ as Monica returned her attention to the female Sailor in front of her.

"Okay, Able Seaman Jessica Cave, Machinists' Mate-4," the Hospital Corpsman went over the vitals, starting with identity as she picked up a datapad and looked over the Sailor. "Were you injured or thrown about in anyway? I'll start with those first before working on the commons."

"I… I'm pregnant. Four months along."

That had Monica pause as she looked up to the Machinists' Mate. Both Sergeant Williams and Marshal Collins stopped as well to look at the woman in question.

"The _hell_ were you doing on a ship?" The Soldier asked, her tone slightly scornful. "Pretty sure the Navy rules are the same as the Army ones; getting knocked up gets you sent to the rear." Sergeant Williams was correct. All female Sailors (and likely the others in the other services) were given sub-dermal contraceptive implants to prevent pregnancies while on tour of duties. It might have sound cruel, but four-to-six month voyages in less-than-pleasant spaces with pregnant Sailors was even less sought out. Absolutely nobody wanted incriminations of putting an unborn child in danger. Before a ship out date for a tour of duty, female Sailors and Marines all visited their vessels' MedBay for both activation of their sub-dermal contraceptive implant (or reconfirmation if the female question wanted it activated during a tour of garrison, too) as well as a pregnancy test. Theoretically, nobody _should_ be pregnant on a vessel out in the black. Heck, Chief Ryder had supposedly double-checked the implant for every female on TEAM LION after missions in case of Geth tampering! Not that anyone should be having sex on a ship (supposedly, but it definitely happened), but no one should be getting pregnant, either. Had the Seaman _hidden_ her pregnancy?

"'Kay… well, let's check up on the baby first." Negulesco took a Medical Monitoring Device and watched as Cave sheepishly lifted up her blouse and shirt to expose what looked to be somewhere in between a fourteen-to-sixteen week pregnant belly, bulging out enough to be noticed, but not grossly exaggerated. Her navel hadn't popped out yet, Monica noticed as she placed the electronic puck-like device onto the Sailors' expanded waistline and pressed it against the taught skin, looking at the readings it was displaying holographically. True to form, Negulesco was getting interference with the cardiac readings, indicating there was something else. The Hospital Corpsman toggled the monitor to use ultrasound and the screen showed a fuzzy picture in the multitudes of shades of gray she began to manipulate it on the woman's abdomen until she found the uterus.

And there it was.

Monica looked at the holographic screen display as she observed what was undoubtedly a human fetus, curled in upon itself and resting in its mothers' womb, seemingly unknowing of the everything outside its dark slumbering space. The fetus was very Human-looking, with limbs and head forming correctly, the head the largest singular part of the unborn child, with spindly limbs curled around a frail-looking body. That was normal. Negulesco focused on the vitals detector on her MMD and found a feathery light heartbeat going very fast, at two-hundred twenty beats per minute. That was normal, too.

"She's okay." Monica looked up with a smile, seeing Seaman Cave look back at her in awe. "Heart rate is on target, and she's moving around a little bit."

"She?"

"Um… common pronoun. Did you not want to know the gende… never mind." Cave had been hiding the pregnancy. She hadn't gone to the MedBay to see what gender her child was. That meant neither mother or infant had any check-ups whatsoever! "She's… almost eight centimeters long, so that means you're at sixteen weeks, just starting the second trimester, Cave. Would you like to know the gender? This is when we can tell."

"I… I…" The young woman (and Monica noted that they were probably about the same age) looked back towards where the deployment ramp was, having closed several minutes ago with the departure of the _Rey Kenobi_ and the Engineering Team, and then back to the Corpsman. "Yes."

"Not a problem." Williams was peeking over, having already assessed two Sailors with little to fuss about as Negulesco shifted the medical puck along the abdomen, trying to find a good angle to see in between the child's legs. She had a decent view of the child's face, so she got a three-dimensional ultrasound still of that, and got another picture of the entirety of the child before finding the gap in the legs. Monica gently moved the puck around until she was looking dorsally, and found her target.

"I see… a little bulge." The Soldier coined up from beside her, peering over to look at the display. Evidently Sergeant Williams had done this before.

"It's a penis." Seaman Monica Negulesco confirmed as she looked up at Able Seaman Jessica Cave. "Congratulations, you have a son." The Machinist Mates' hands went to her own slightly swollen abdomen as she began to break down and cry, one of the other Sailors from the _Quebec_ catching her before she fell, murmuring the name _Michael_. Negulesco looked to Williams as the both of them looked to the closed Cargo Bay deployment ramp.

The father had been on the _Quebec._

But he wasn't on the _Normandy_ now.

* * *

Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid manned the Weapons Department Station as she filled in Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele of the SSV _Normandy_ some of the less-than-grizzly details about the battle that the IVY Fleet had suffered when the Geth had bum-rushed them and practically raped them in less than ten minutes. One minute, one of the screenwatcher pukes in some Ops Alley doing CAP patrols was calling out the usual ghost signals and outside-acquisition anomalies that happened within the AU-to-AU-and-a-half range. The next minute, something like a hundred and twenty vessels had targeted their thirty-seven and proceeded to massacre them. The Fourth hadn't eve had proper telemetry on the Geth ships until _after_ the bombardment started, meaning they were firing well outside the standard envelope of a hundred and fifty million kilometers. The necessary accuracy and gunnery skills to make a hit at that range _without_ a proper target acquisition? It should have been impossible, and nobody fired blind; it was just stupid and a waste of ammunition.

" _Gotta say, Nova, sounds like they had a probe or drone in your ranks."_ Vanessa was telling her over their SkypeLink line, the SSV _Normandy_ and the SSV _Ypres_ flying in wing together. Well, more like the _Normandy_ flew while the _Ypres_ floundered in the black like an Asari giving a Drell a blowjob. The maintenance team and just about anyone else that could give a hand were making emergency repairs to the _Hastings_ -Class Frigate, but it would be a band-aid on a broken limb. _"Did you guys by chance spot the_ Xterra?"

"Hmm. Let me look at the log." That was a bit of an unusual request. The Fourth had sixteen _Ranger_ -Class Corvettes in its ranks, but none of them were the _Xterra_. Corvettes were good for lane and trade patrols, escort duties, and hiding in debris fields and monitoring anything that wanted to hide, too. Nova doubted that the _Ypres_ had seen a non-IVY Fleet Corvette, as she would have remembered that, but it might be possible one of the other vessels spotted it while in a defensive posture over the colony of Feros. She pulled up the Fleet LCARS and looked at the log for any ship identifications within the past solar day. "Yep, here it is, the SSV _Xterra_. Showed up approximately four days ago for a refuel at ye ole local gas station at Sharring." The Heavy Helium Scoop and Processing Station that orbited Theseus, a hydrogen-helium gas giant with something like sixty-plus moons, was the go-to spot for the helium derivative. No doubt it was in Geth hands, now. "It made landing on Feros about seven hours ago, citing the need for outer hull repair."

" _Nova? The_ Xterra _is suspected of being a converted Geth ship."_ What Vanessa told her had the Ensign do a double-take. How the hell was that even possible. _"News has been in blackout since the discovery, but the_ Xterra _went to the ACV_ Horizon _and dumped dozens of Husks and Geth onto the cruise. All hands were lost in a way I can only say as horrific."_ Reid felt her throat go dry with that comment. Steele _couldn't_ tell her everything, but was telling her enough. The _Horizon_ was the premiere cruise ship in all of the Alliance! Every person lost? It held something like four _thousand_ people!

And now it was on Feros.

"The Old Man put the Fourths' Marines onto the colony when we arrived, Nessie." Nova told her counterpart, keeping an eye on the _Ypres_ energy management levels as the Frigate was undergoing repairs. If they were lucky, they could make sub-luminal speeds with a few hours worth of work. "There's five-hundred Jarheads down on the colony, protecting both the town and the corporation conglomerate mess that funds a good chunk of the mining and research, being a former Prothean colony and all." Feros wasn't actually a pleasant planet to live in; it didn't have a friendly atmosphere, needing an atmospheric processing plant to blanket a several kilometer area just to get the oxygen levels to a more acceptable percentage. The colony in question was about a thousand persons that mostly helped out with the digging and shipping, a half mining town, half transportation hub. It didn't exactly peg high on the 'places to live' bucket list, but it was certainly better than No'burg on Therum or Loughin on Benning. At least the croppies weren't knifing each other or some such shit. Nova did Liberty on Nova Yekaterinburg exactly _once_ , flanked by two Marine Non-Commissioned Officers so she could 'get a drink'. Afterwards, she had been completely and utterly grateful for those two burly Sergeants.

" _Couldn't wait to kick off the knuckle-draggers, huh?"_ Steele teased over the SkypeLink, her tiny image on Nova's terminal showing the _Normandy's_ Gunnery Chief just shaking her head. _"Five hundred Marines should be more than enough for a Corvettes' worth of goons. Hell, we had a dozen people clear out a four-thousand sapient ship."_ The _Ypres'_ Gunnery Chief couldn't stop the double-take she did. _"Yeah, we've probably got the best space crew_ and _the best ground crew in the business. Eden Prime, Therum, the_ Horizon _? All single-handed, no back-up."_

"Fuck, Nessie." Nova looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then gently touched the receiver port where her image was being captured. "You be careful out there, Nessie. I really mean that." Once upon a Systems Alliance Military Academy ago, Cadets Vanessa Steele and Novalee Reid had dated one another in between academic years, sharing a crummy apartment in Alexandria, Virginia. Vanessa had been going into her Fourth Year as a Senior, while Nova was going to her Third, making liberal use of her now-legal drinking status to go out and party as much as possible during that summer break. Days had been filled with urban exploration, evenings with clubs and dancing, and nights with long gratifying bouts of lust-fueled sex. Those months were the best Nova had ever had, and there would always be a spot for Vanessa Bethany Steele in her heart, even if distance and politics pretty much prevented anything deeper or more meaningful from happening. Having to return to the Academy and pretend that nothing happened for her Junior Year had been hard as hell, and every break or Liberty they had gotten during that year had been rushed, gratifying but not nearly so magical. The two weeks that Nessie had gotten before shipping off after she graduated? Nova had been really, _really_ hoping that her Nessie would propose to her.

Everyone thought the promise ring that Novalee Reid wore on her dog tag chain had come from a guy. She didn't abuse the assumption.

" _I know, Nova."_ The smile that came from the Lieutenant was a real one, slightly distorted from the electronic capture and distance, but for the Ensign it was real enough. _"I'm luckier than you are. We've practically got an invisible ship, pretty much a Klingon Bird of Prey! You guys… God,"_ Reid noticed that Vanessa tried to be discrete about it, but when she turned her head just enough not to be noticed wiping away a tear, Nova's heart stumbled, _"you practically got peeled like a sardine can, babe. I… I could have lost you."_

"Ness…" These kinds of conversations shouldn't be happening over a ship-to-ship communication. They were recorded for good reasons, and the Systems Alliance didn't exactly smile upon same-gender relationships. Especially amongst Commissioned Officers.

" _When I gave you that ring,"_ Steele continued, ignoring the warning, _"I made you a promise. I said when the situation was better, I get down on a knee and I would propose to you proper. But the situation is_ never _going to get better, especially not with us smack in the middle of a war with the Geth and our colonies getting railed like a porn star. I don't give a shit about the rules or regulations of it. Those wouldn't comfort me if the_ Ypres _ended up a cloud of debris. I would live the rest of my life with a hole in my heart. I'd rather mourn what I had than what I didn't do. I don't care how, when, where, or who to make it happen, and I'll do it proper the next time I physically see you, but I want to know this now._

" _Novalee Yasmine Reid, will you marry me?"_

The Ensign could barely choke out the answer as she clutched at where the ring dangled with her dog tags under her Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniform and her Aldrin Labs' Onyx Light Armor.

"Y-yes." Nova had to shut her eyes hard to stem the tears, trying not to sob out loud in the middle of the CIC. This wasn't the place or time, but she didn't care. Vanessa was right; _she_ didn't want to lose her Nessie with that promise cut short, forever wishing for things to have gone differently. "All my heart." The Gunnery Chief whispered as she still clutched at that ring. To prove it, she pulled her dog tags out from under her armor, undoing the connector piece and threading the chain from out of the ring. It was a simple one, a plain silver band, five millimeters wide, and sized for her ring finger. In front of the viewer, Nova slipped the ring onto the appropriate finger of her left hand, making sure _her_ Nessie could see it. "Next time we see each other, I want a proper proposal."

" _Better bring a white dress, too."_ That had the Ensign choke out a sobbing chuckle, but Vanessa's smile was worth it. _"The Lion is glaring at me, Nova. Probably wants more tactics and less talking. Stay safe, love… and next time."_

"You, too." The connection was terminated as the Gunnery Chief wiped away an escaped tear on her cheek. _I'm a fiancee now_ , the Ensign realized, a little surreal. But it felt good. Something else going right on this horrible, horrible day.

"You made the right choice, Nova."

"S-Sir?" Reid looked to her Commanding Officer, Commander Blaine Clark looking at her from the Captain's Podium. They had downgraded to DEFCON TWO status with the ships' status at REDCON THREE. Helmets were off, as were gauntlets. The _Normandy_ had launched passive recon probes in a perimeter around their position to conduct rescue and repair operations, as well as a few towards the Geth position to monitor any movement. For now, they had a fifteen-minute window of warning; as safe as one could hope for in the middle of battle.

"Geez, you think we're dumb?" Lieutenant Commander Leigh Ann Mayer, the _Ypres_ ' XO, offered, a twisted smile on the plain-faced woman's lips. "It was pretty apparent about five seconds after you boarded this ship that you were putting on an act. You talked too much bluster about jockeying, but had absolutely no eyes on anyone. I've yet to see you check out one guys' ass despite what you claim. Pretty telling."

"Oh." Nova had never been with a man before. Ever. She just talked that way so no one would know and she wouldn't get in trouble. She thought her career would get ditched if she were thought a lesbian. Vanessa had given her some pointers in that regard.

"Highly doubt you're the first proposal over Skype, Nova." First Lieutenant Caden Stein commented, a lop-sided smile on the Navigator's face from across the CIC. "First time I've seen you blush before, though." That had Lieutenant (junior grade) Danielle Bender chuckling from her station, the Ops Chief nodding in agreement. "You're going to make a good woman happy."

"And sometimes even we need the reminder of why we do all this, what we're for." The Commander replied, standing tall and strong on the Podium. Nova had no idea how he did it; he just lost his wife on the SSV _Francis Drake_ when the core went catastrophic. If it had been her, Nova would be a bag of tears on the deck. "We kick the Geth out of this system, and I'll see about making good that promise. I know Jane won't have an issue making a few hours Liberty and some Cargo Bay chapel."

"Y-yes, sir." She practically hiccuped her answer, her thumb tracing the ring newly-minted on her finger.

"Besides… honeymoon on Feros. They're all about the digging into crevices and holes down there with various tools and drilling implements." Leigh Ann teased, making the Gunnery Chief scowl at her XO.

* * *

" _Captain? We're receiving an incoming hail. It's… it's from the_ Kili. _"_ Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley called out, his helmeted head turning to her position at the Captain's Podium from where he stood at the Navigation terminal. _"Marker indicates both Private and Urgent, ma'am."_ Captain Jane Shepard nodded in reply as she went to her Command Console and punched in the access code to initiate a private conversation between the _Kilimanjaro_ and herself. Likely, it was Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer with an addendum to orders gauge upon the status of his fleet and what she had done to the Geth. She had given the Fourth time and space to make whatever necessary repairs they needed. Jannie linked the communication to the SquadComm of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor and turned it to private chat; no one would hear her talking through her vox.

" _Kili_ Actual, this is _Normandy_ Actual." Shepard replied, expecting her stepfather.

[Jane, it's Hannah], the voice of her mother came to Jannie's helmet speaker, sounding… strained, hurt even. [Kyle passed away from his wounds ten minutes ago]

The redhead felt her mouth go dry at the news. Kyle Singer and herself had never really… warmed up to one another, and whatever old anger she felt from incidences a decade and a half in the past were forced away for the moment. Much more was at stake than ancient grievances. Her mother had just lost her husband and the IVY Fleet had just lost its Commanding Officer. Say what she wanted about Kyle, but he had been an excellent Sailor and Officer.

"And you?" Jannie asked, her voice neutral.

There was a healthy pause.

[I don't have much longer, either]

A gulf opened up just underneath her heart, and Jannie could feel it trying to slip in. _No, not now_ , the redhead thought to herself, despite it all. Years of estrangement and old wounds had soured the relationship between mother and daughter long before, and this was the first real conversation that Shepard had with her mother since… since after Elysium, when thirteen-year old Sara Ryder had practically been acting as Jannie's personal nurse after saving the lives of nearly eight dozen colonists by doing what she could. Her mother had been at her Star of Terra award ceremony, and there had been pics of mother and daughter standing side-by-side, but conversations had been too far, too in-between, and too strained. Bridges had been burned, not mended.

Now her mother was possibly dying, and Jannie realized all that time had been wasted… over stupidity.

" _When are you ever going to pick_ me _?"_ The voice of a distraught fourteen-year old echoed in her ears, and Jannie shook away the memory. _No, not now._

[Jane, as soon as you are done with rescue operations,]her mother's voice continued, sounding oh so tired, [I need you to lead the _Ypres_ , the _Langemarck_ , and the _Normandy_ to the far side of the moon Vegna. The Fourth is down and in tatters, but we're not out yet] Despite the strain in her voice, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer hadn't given up yet. She would push until her heart gave out, and likely that might not stop her, either. [The Geth are in _our_ territory, and that simply will not stand. As long as one member of the Alliance Navy draws breath, we will oppose them in any way and fashion we can. And that's where I need you]

" _When are you ever going to pick_ me _? Over your career? Over your_ boytoy _?"_

 _No, not now._

"Your orders, Admiral?" Jannie asked, her tone neutral, pushing memories and emotions away.

[Jane, the Geth are here for a reason], the _Kili's_ XO and acting Commanding Officer replied. [Their objective is obviously on Feros, whatever it is. They've been ferrying landing craft to the colony ever since they mopped us up out of LaGrange Point Two. The Marines of the Fourths' Expeditionary Unit are on-site, and have been ever since Eden Prime, so they're ready for a fight. But as long as the Geth hold the battlespace above Feros, they have the means to complete their objective, and abscond with it]

[That will simply not fucking happen]

"Fucking A right they won't." Shepard agreed with her mother. Possibly for the first time in nearly fifteen years. Those weren't orders, merely intent.

" _You're… you're kidding me!"_ A fourteen-year old girl's voice cried out in shock and anger, the past coming back to her once more. _"You pass me off for months and months… and I come back to find out you're now married_ and _pregnant? When are you ever going to pick_ me _?"_

[Your orders, Captain],her mother continued, [are to deploy your ground team to the colony as soon as we have a safe window to do so. As I understand it, the best Geth-killers in the entire galaxy are all aboard your vessel, and I want to make use of that. Their objective is simple; to deny whatever prize the Geth seek. The Marine Expeditionary Unit will continue to man and protect the colony, hopefully serving as a distraction and a buffer from the true threat; your team. Discover the objective of the Geth and deny it to them by taking it, destroying it, or destroying them. The Lieutenant Colonel in charge of the MEU, Lieutenant Colonel Sam Hulick, will assist in any way she can, but likely the Marines will be tied up fighting Geth forces. Use that advantage to secure or deny what the Geth want]

[As for yourself, I have something else in mind]

Jannie felt her hear slow to a crawl and a sort of sick feeling crawling in her guts. She had a feeling what this might be about.

[Jane… Kyle is dead, and I've got a spar in at least my kidney, if not worse], her mother informed her. Rear Admiral Hannah Singer was a FCW Vet, and a part of the Night Stalkers; the most lethal team in Human history, the shuttle pilot of the _Enola Gay_. She had survived much in the skies and on the ground of Shanxi, including two shuttle crashes. [The _Kili's_ MedBay got struck full on, and we lost our entire Medical Staff and the Department as well. Kyle died because there was no one there to stop or slow down his internal bleeding, no one here trained to do so. I've already lost three-quarters of my crew, and my Fleet is in shambles. Sitting behind Vegna isn't doing anyone any favors. We need a solution for our Geth problem, and we're got _one_ ship that's fully capable]

"You need the _Normandy_." Jannie surmised. _Of course_.

" _When are you ever going to pick_ me _?"_

"XO," Shepard switched her vox on to public, "how long until Rescue and Repair Ops are done?"

" _Lieutenant Adams says they pulled on the four lifepods they detected."_ Commander Mark Vanderloo reported. _"Those who are able are assisting in repairs of the_ Langemarck _, and the Frigate can make Mark Five now. But a round went right through their Core Room and out through the Cargo Bay. All of their Engineering staff and damn near all of their Maintenance crew got flushed or shattered. Another round clipped the Bridge and took out everyone there, too. The ships' running off of everyone who survived on the Gun Deck, ma'am. The_ Ypres _can make Mark Three, but likely they'll strain the Frigates' superstructure if not make it worse."_

"Tell Lieutenant Adams to assume command of the _Langemarck_ , and have Specialist Zorah stand in as Chief of Engineering." Shepard ordered. "We're escorting the _Ypres_ and the _Langemarck_ to IVY Fleet's position at Mark Two, and I want them to be underway in the next five minutes. Drop a passive Comm Relay buoy at this position so we can keep eyes on the Geth." Vanderloo was already relaying the orders as Jannie switched her vox back to private. "We can be there in fifteen minutes escorting our wounded. Will that suffice?"

[Yes. And thank you for rescuing whom you could], Hannah replied, grunting in pain. [Jane, I don't have much time left in me, so I'm going to say this once] There was a pained intake of breath, and a slow exhale that even the redhead could hear. [I've got three Captains left, but their crews and ships are in shambles. When I'm gone, I've got a First Lieutenant who looks like he's going to puke his guts out at the thought of taking command. I can't command transfer to the other Captains I've got because they're trying to hold their ships together and no one to replace _them_. Half my Fleet's being flown by Sailors with no training at the positions they've stepped up to take over, and at least four vessels are being led by various Enlisted Members in their time of need. It's my duty to appoint the next-in-succession when I pass away in the next hour or so, Jane. I need someone to beat the Geth's asses in and bring my crew home, make this worth something. There's only one vessel here that is fully-staffed, and it happens to have some of the top-rated experts in fighting Geth] Jannie could hear her mother bite back a grunt of pain. [I need you, Jane]

[I need you to lead the Fourth]

* * *

Author's Note: Oh yeah. Shit just got real.

Actually, it was kind of fun writing about another ship, the _Ypres_. All the Frigates I used are named after WWI battles, in following ME tradition. Destroyers are named after military folk, and the _Quebec_ after a city. Showing the _Normandy_ from the outside (and it would be invisible to Alliance LADAR) was fun, and I enjoyed the exercise. Especially with Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid and her antics.

The death of the _Avon_ actually teared me up a little. But that's actually happened in the past, be it vessels, vehicle, or aircraft.

Pregnancies and the Military - This is… a sensitive subject as best with me. But it is true that pregnant service members are put on light duty and generally sent to whatever is considered the rear (or its garrison equivalent).

Carriers in the Mass Effect Universe are named after famous people. Sir Francis Drake, not only a famous English Privateer (the first!), but also the man who successfully founded Drake's Passage that is now 'the Horn' around the Cape of Good Hope, cutting off weeks of sailing time around the most treacherous waters on the planet. Also circumvented the world (while being the second 'man' to do so after Magellan, he was actually the first to do so in one tour). Surprisingly, he left with eight ships and came back with only one, but bulging with Spanish gold. The Spanish **_HATED_ **Francis Drake.

Ensign Nova Reid mentions how rough it is in No'burg (Nova Yekaterinburg, Therum). I'm using my concept of the mining town from "Where The Law Stands Tall" and keeping it true here; a 99% male-dominated mining town where the only women you see in the mining town are generally strippers and whores.

I've only touched upon the relationship between Jane and Hannah in previous chapters, but I've always intended it to be a strained one. Now you see a little more. It will be explained better onward, but you're getting a current view.

Jannie… kinda got her wish though, didn't she?


	28. The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two, III

" _We're going to nuke those fuckers back to the Analog Age." CMDRE Shepard, CO SSV_ Kilimanjaro _, Battle of LaGrange Point Two, 2183_

 **SSV** _ **Kilimanjaro**_ **(IV FLT), 100 km from Vegna, Feros Space, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

Author's Note: Remember when Tali got to play 'Admiral' somehow in ME3? Yeah, no. Jannie actually gets to play Admiral.

I think you're going to like this. You're so in for a treat. There will be a legitimate space battle for the rest of this ARC. Not just 'fire the guns and boom'. No, real Navy stuff. Maneuvering. Missiles. Prayers. And a concept that I stole from myself back from _Fall Of The House Of Therum, III_.

Thus, the 'Special Tactics' portion of 'SPECTRE'.

Thanks to _**LogicalPremise**_ and his use of US Navy tactics (God bless Submariners!) for the direction I'm about to plot course and blast of into.

Don't forget to check out the disclaimer up top for a good chuckle. Sometimes I impress myself.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) exited the main personnel lift onto the Quarterdeck of the _Kilimanjaro_ -Class Dreadnought, stepping onto the Bridge of the the class leader of the modern Alliance Dreadnought, what Sailors and Marines called 'the Mighty Kili'. Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder strode by Jannie's side, two Human women in HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Armor, probably looking like a SPECTRE Kill Team at first glance to the Sailors manning the Quarterdeck as a few helmeted heads turned to see who had arrived from the personnel lift. Even though Sailors were in REDCON FOUR, fully suited and armored for Naval combat, the redhead knew that they were getting stares and dropped jaws at the sight of Council Agents on the deck. One Chief Petty Officer stammered out ' _Agent on Deck!'_ at a complete loss at what else to do, announcing her presence in the way he knew how but with a complete lack of knowledge of what other protocols there were. To these men and women, Jannie was likely the pinnacle of the Human race in their eyes; having achieved the absolutely highest position of authority a Human had ever reached in the galaxy, a position dreamed of and coveted when learned of in 2158. To see a Human SPECTRE (flanked by yet another one in the guise of a Navy Corpsman), Jannie wondered what those men and women were thinking. The general impression of the citizens of the galaxy upon seeing a Council Agent was likely somewhere along the lines of ' _please don't be here for me!_ ' But to these Sailors, to these brave men and women, she had probably strode right out the doors like the Hand of God; salvation in one hand, and righteous destruction of their enemies in the other.

They weren't far off, actually.

The Quarterdeck, like the rest of the _Kili_ , was an absolute mess. The Dreadnought had been front-and-center for the attack that the Geth had pounced upon the IVY Fleet, and the flagship had taken the brunt of it. The _Kilimanjaro_ -Class had been designed to take on a Turian _Wyominix_ -Class Dreadnought and suffer the abuse, the hull armored in thick Iridium-reinforced Alumnisteel plates with a superstructure laid in Titanium and Depleted Uranium. When the _Everest_ -Class Dreadnoughts existed, Mankind had no space-faring foes, and found the SSV _Everest_ , _Elbrus_ , and _Fiji_ wanting. Thus the _Kilimanjaro_ was made; the modern titan. Built to take on a Turian Dreadnought, it was rated for a ten-minute exchange with a _Wyominix_ -Class, using its many missiles, its main cannon, broadsides, and fighter craft compliment to take on the galaxy's premiere peacekeeping force and only species to officially wage war on Mankind. But it hadn't been designed to take on a fuselage of over a hundred vessels, taking an absolute pounding for five minutes straight as the _Kili_ reversed roles with the Fleet; the Dreadnought had protected the Fleet's retreat, suffering abuse for its smaller vessel. The act showed; the Quarterdeck, like the rest of the vessel, showed that it had been clobbered _hard_. Jannie noted at least three metal-plated plugs QuikWeld'ed to the bulkhead where damage had penetrated from hull-to-deck, resulting in space exposure. Wiring and panels had been knocked off, the deck was littered with debris, there were shattered or burnt-out terminals, and there were most certainly splashes of red to indicate when a piece of shrapnel hit something made of flesh. None of the ruptures were large, and likely no one had been sucked out, but the spray of metal fragments from the penetration had likely caused serious wounds to the personnel on the deck.

One of them had killed her stepfather. Likely, the same shot was killing her mother.

" _She still stands, and so does her crew. God bless them one and all."_ Sara breathed out, her vox transmitting her words, and Jannie noted that several overheard the Navy Corpsman wearing SPECTRE Armor.

"Indeed." Shepard replied, completely agreeing with her friend. The Command Deck should have no less than twenty-five at any point in time running the various operations of the _Mighty Kili_ , but its staff had been reduced by a third at least. Without a doubt, there were Sailors manning positions and terminals that were not their trained rates, determined to keep their _home_ alive while protecting the fleet. It was as First Lieutenant Nicolai Yevseyenkov had said earlier; praise God for the courage of Men. In its worse moments, the crew of the _Kili_ kept going, standing strong against the forces of the Geth. Like the Sailors of old, braving wind and sea, facing cannon and fire, their modern-day successor did not shrink nor shirk from their Oaths and duties. The Geth had it in for Humanity, and these men and women were going to show them how much of a bad fucking idea that was going to be. They did it to the Turians over and on Shanxi, bloodying the snouts of the galaxy's premiere military, and now it was the synthetic races' turn.

Jannie moved towards the Combat Information Center of the Dreadnought, noting differences between the SR-1 _Normandy_ and the DVA-4 _Kilimanjaro_ , looking more like an Alliance ship should; two semi-circle raised platforms where the Naval Technicians who kept in constant contact with not only the Dreadnoughts' many systems, but that of the other vessels of the fleet, surrounded the main podium that was the hub of information and command of the IVY Fleet. There, a raised dais displayed the holographic image of the surrounding battlespace of Feros, while an adjoining series of monitors above the trigraphic image displayed ship status for not only the _Mighty Kili_ , but for various components of the Fleet, and IV Fleet as a whole. Dozens of terminals encircled 'the Pulpit' of the CIC, where the mind, heart, and soul of the IVY Fleet stood; it was here that ten thousand Sailors got their orders and followed them, where Humanity was defended from all threats, both foreign and domestic.

It was here that her mother was.

Shepard felt her heart shoot up in her throat at the sight of her mother, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Mallory Singer sitting on a fabricated wheeled chair instead of standing, haunting the CIC by lording over all from a impromptu contraption but looking every centimeter one of the vaulted members of the Bravest Generation, injury or no injury. The redhead sucked in a breath when she saw the injury in question; a spur of metal had impaled her mother in the lower torso, where her kidney and pancreas were at the very least, and her intestines if it went any deeper. Considering she thought that she might be dying, perhaps it had, internally bleeding. There was a medical package taped to her left shoulder, an IV line going to the crook of her left elbow; fluids. She intended to combat death by blood-loss by pumping more fluids into her than she was losing. That would only work for so long, Jannie knew. Her mother wasn't going to go out leaving IV Fleet without its Commanding Officer, and its XO proved herself once more why she was venerated throughout Mankind as one of the Bravest Generation and a member of the Night Stalkers. She kept herself alive long enough to ensure that _someone_ would take over, someone Hannah knew could lead the Fleet to an acceptable degree of success.

What Hannah Singer hadn't expected was Sara Ryder; Jannie's secret weapon, so to speak.

" _You came."_ Admiral Singer looked up from her chair to look upon her daughter, armored in her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor. Then her helmeted gaze went to the _other_ SPECTRE. _"Sara?"_ The mark of the Emergency Medical Technician laid over Sara's heart on her armor, and Hannah had easily put two and two together. _"What are you doing here?"_

" _I'm taking you back to the_ Normandy _for emergency surgery, ma'am."_ The Petty Officer replied, her tone without deviation. _"We have a fully-operational and stocked MedBay, a Surgeon, and a rated Surgeons' Mate. The Fourth needs its Commanding Officer, so while Captain Shepard temporarily relieves you, Doctor Chakwas and myself are going to perform surgery and save your life._

" _These Sailors need the best at the Helm, and we're going to make it happen."_

The sixteen men and women serving upon the Command Deck of the _Kili_ never said a word, but their unspoken support was announcing loud and clear in their movements and actions. Lives had been lost, and without the Dreadnoughts' Medical Department, more would likely be lost. But it was as Sara said; the Fleet needed Admiral Singer on the Conn. Jannie knew she couldn't command the Fourth forever; she had her own mission, and being a replacement Admiral wasn't it. She would do so until her mother was fit-for-duty or until reinforcements arrived, but her place was preventing the Geth from reaching their objective, not getting into slugging matches with their fleet in a straight-up fight.

" _Your orders and assumption of command, Captain."_ Hannah handed over a datapad sitting on top of the raised holographic displays' center ring, the electronic form filled out to its entirety save for Jannie's acceptance in the form of a biometric scan. The redhead held the viewer at the top of the 'pad to her visored eye, letting it scan her cornea. It toggled green with acceptance. _"I stand relieved."_

And just like that, Captain Shepard was now _Kilimanjaro_ Actual for the time being.

"Doc? Take the Admiral to the _Rey_ and have her in surgery post-haste." The Level Three Council Agent told her Second, Ryder's' helmeted head nodding as she took the fabricated grips of the wheeled chair and began pushing her mother out of the CIC. Without a word spoken or an order given, every man and woman on the Command Deck stood to their feet if they were able to, standing at the position of attention and saluting the escorted Admiral as she promised vocally _I shall return_ , echoing the words of a General more than two centuries prior. The doors to the personnel lift closed behind the Corpsman and the Admiral as Sailors returned to their duties, and Jannie felt a forlorn pain in her heart. Here she was, standing in her mothers' command, the woman she had been estranged from for half of her life, yet now taking her place. The sight of the Sailors saluting Hannah as she left was almost a bitter mockery of the relationship between mother and daughter, yet Shepard pushed that aside. For now, IVY Fleet needed her on top of her game.

An N-Level Sailor with a months' worth of experience captaining a Frigate was now in charge of what was left of a thirty-seven vessel Fleet.

 _Green pickle award_ , Jannie thought to herself as she looked the next highest-ranking person in the CIC, a male First Lieutenant by the name of Dawson, manning the Navigation terminal. The XO's terminal was dark and unmanned, as was the Commo terminal. The Weapons terminal was still functional, and was being manned by a male Senior Chief Petty Officer by the name of Rodriguez. The Ops terminal was functional, and being manned by a female Petty Officer (Third Class) van de Mare. There was no one at the Engineering terminal, the Tactical terminal, the CAP terminal, or the ECM terminal. There were a couple of the seats for the LADAR Technicians that were unfilled as well.

She was just going to have to make do on a vessel she had never been on before with a crew she didn't even know the names of while leading a Fleet ready to crumble apart.

"Lieutenant Dawson? Open up the 1MC for Fleet-wide announcement." Jannie told the only other Commissioned Officer in the Pulpit. The _Kili's_ Command Console was a shattered wreck, and its location had a liberal amount of blood on it. Likely… that had been her stepfather. Lieutenant Dawson looked up to her and nodded his helmeted head as Jannie took a steadying breath and spoke to the Fleet.

 _Her_ Fleet. No pressure.

"IVY Fleet, this is Captain Jane Shepard, of the SSV _Normandy_." The redhead began, keeping her voice calm and even as she spoke to the remnants of the battered Fourth, letting the words of the Lion flow forth. "Command of the _Kili_ and the Fourth have been officially passed down to me by Rear Admiral Hannah Singer, and as of this moment, I stand as _Kilimanjaro_ Actual." Seventeen vessels of the Fleet, with the addition of the _Normandy_ , listened on. "Sailors and Marines, Officers and Enlisted, ladies and gentlemen, we are down;

"But by no means are we _out_.

"As of this moment, I want all Commands to finish up any and all emergency repairs that involve weapons, LADAR sensors, and ruptures within the hour." Jannie continued. "Any vessel that is not space-worthy, report status so that crew and weapons can be transfered to another vessel. If a vessel is deficient in the ability to fight, fly, or contain a core, update as soon as possible so we may transfer the necessary parts and specialists to get your vessel back into fight.

"Because there's a Geth Armada on the other side of Feros that is dire need of having its ass kicked _hard_."

Jannie could see men and women in _her_ CIC nodding, despite the beating they took and the losses they endured. The only thing worse that what they had suffered would be to let it all happen for nothing. The Fourth was not about to kick rocks and walk away. They would find a way to make the Geth pay, and the Lion was going to lead them to that purpose.

"On Eden Prime," the SPECTRE continued, "thirteen Colonial Air Force Destroyers were obliterated when the Geth hacked the Surface-to-Space Defense Systems, blasting _our_ folks out of the sky. On Eden Prime, ten _thousand_ Geth hardware platforms were dropped onto Constant to inflict damage and casualties, and the death toll was in the _tens of thousands_ , civilians and military. They planted polonium-infused bombs to deny any kind of rescue operations and disguise their true purpose.

"Despite all that… a small team succeeded." She reminded them. "Two Sailors and a Soldier pushed through these forces and denied the Geth their two objectives; a Prothean Beacon, and the cover-up.

"On Therum," the redhead spoke, "a Marine platoon was killed to the very man defending a Prothean dig site defending against a thousand Geth hardware platforms. Their objective was a Prothean researcher, with the intent of capture for whatever purpose they had in mind.

"Despite all that… a force of twelve succeeded." The Lion smiled at the memory of Sara emerging from behind her cover, her face one of shock and love at the sight of her Auntie coming to her rescue. "A defensive position held by the Angel of Illyeria and eleven others destroyed seven hundred Geth over the period of a solar day and denied the Geth their objective until they were rescued by myself and my team.

"On the ACV _Horizon_ ," Jannie briefly wondered if anyone in the Fourth had been told about what happened to the Cruise Liner, "every occupant of that forty-five hundred soul vessel had been assaulted by the Geth and turned to their evil purpose. _Civilian lives_ were not only lost, but turned into the enemy; as nefarious a crime as I could ever come up with.

"Despite all that… twelve defeated four _thousand_." Those nightmares would be long in fading, sadly. "The ship was taken from Geth hands and returned to the Alliances', and whatever plans they had were halted.

"The Geth are not invincible." The Captain reminded the men and women of the Fourth, her tone assured. "They can be stopped, they can be destroyed. Men and women have held the line against them and their forces and came out on top. It has been proved that inferior numbers does not guarantee a defeat.

"Stand strong, crew members of the IVY Fleet. The Geth mean to take whatever it is that they want, to trample us into the dirt." She practically spat out the words, no one able to deny her tone. "I have stood against the Geth, and I will continue to do so. I will fight them for the sake of my species, to protect those of my race so they may not know fear of war. They know no fear, yet they know no courage. They are logical, adaptive. What they are _not_ are creative or feeling. They cannot push themselves harder for that extra gram of effort to add to success. They do not believe in something better themselves, be it the Gods or their own kind, to strive towards something beautiful. They are just machines.

"And machines… can be _broken_."

* * *

Captain Jane Shepard stood at the Command Deck of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , reviewing the information that was being spat out through the update monitors above the trigraphic display that showed the composition and position of her fleet sulking behind the moon of Vegna. She had been a Fleet Admiral for all of forty-five minutes, and the whole time she had been studying the Geth through the Recon Probes that the SSV _Normandy_ and the SSV _Ypres_ had laid to monitor their activity. So far, the Geth Fleet hadn't moved towards them.

Actually, that worried her.

Her mother, Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer had been right; the Geth's objective was on Feros. The Fleet had been there to defeat whatever defenses the colony had and protect their interest. They had been learning since Eden Prime and Therum, and knew that there was a ship they couldn't see; the _Normandy_. The Geth must have assumed numbers would have accounted for something to ward off the attack of such a small vessel like a souped-up stealth Frigate, but Jannie had corrected them of that thought by planting a Multi-Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery right into the tailpipe of a thousand-plus meter Dreadnought and obliterating it, along with over a dozen other Geth vessels. With the largest ship in the Armada now being a Heavy Cruiser-Class, the odds were a _little_ bit more favorable, though the Fourth was still very battered. The best ships in the IVY Fleet had been the more nimbler ones, Corvettes and Frigates that had done their best to avoid the incoming fire before being decimated. The Fourth was still standing at only a single Acquisition Carrier, two _York_ -Class Bomber Cruisers, a singular _Moscow_ -Class Patrol Cruiser, three Missile Destroyers, four Frigates (one of them being the _Normandy_ ), and five Corvettes. She practically had a Battle Group instead of a Battle Fleet save that she actually did have a Dreadnought that was a work-in-progress.

She had been using the previous forty-five minutes to come up with a plan.

"Ensign? How's the resupply?" Jannie asked one of the few surviving A-61 Trident Pilots she had in her fleet, Ensign Jeff Harbeck having survived the catastrophic destruction of the SSV _Francis Drake_ when its core went supercritical by simply being in a dog fight at the time against a Geth Frigate. His 'baby' was being scrapped for parts to repair vessels with components of its hull, electronics, and anything else that they needed. As for the pilot himself? He had staked out in the _Kili's_ CIC as her Combat Action Patrol, monitoring the positions of the vessels of the Fourth Fleet to avoid mid-space collisions while dodging fire. As one of the few surviving pilots in the Battle of LaGrange Point Two, Harbeck was now in command of all near-space flying between vessels, everything from Cruisers down to shuttles. Refit and Resupply was the authority of the _Kilimanjaro's_ Tactical Officer, providing Space Traffic Control for the various going-ons in between vessels as well. Dreadnoughts carried parts and supplies for the vessels of its Fleet to conduct mid-patrol resupply without making use of port or spaceyard, and the _Kili_ was utilizing that to shuttle parts and components to get its Fleet up to snuff as near and as soon as possible. Tactical also served as Damage Control in the event of battle.

" _We're standing at seventy-two percent complete, ma'am."_ Jeff wasn't exactly thrilled not being in a cockpit anymore. Space Jockeys thought their existence was solely based upon being in a seat strapped to a Heavy-Helium Fusion Thruster with a couple of missiles dangling from purposeless aerodynamic wings. The man was the sole survivor of his ten-vessel squadron, and probably wanted revenge in the form of a missile launch. They were all eating a little crow, today, and at the least the man performed his duties well, knowing the Fleet needed him _there_ in the CIC. _"The special delivery is next in the queue, Commodore."_ The new 'rank' was merely a traditional one; anyone who commanded anything less than a flagship was a 'Captain' regardless of rank, and those who were in command of a flagship were always an Admiral. Yet the previous Admiral was still alive, Rear Admiral Hannah Singer in emergency surgery. Blue Water Navy (namely the British) had solved this possibility for when a non-Admiral was in charge of a Fleet yet their predecessor still alive but unavailable. It was a temporary rank for a temporary billet.

Still, Commodore Shepard had… a nice ring to it.

" _Ma'am? The SSV_ Ypres _reports having MetalGel'ed their spine back together, and should be battle-worthy in five minutes."_ Came from Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, Shepard's brand-spanking new Executive Officer for the _Mighty Kili_. Pressley had been shuttled over within the first five minutes of her taking command for two very good reasons; one being three years' experience serving the _Kili_ , the other being that he had served as the _Kili's_ Red Team Navigator prior to being transfered to the _Normandy_ , as well as being its Gunnery Chief and Tactical Officer during his time on the Dreadnought. There was literally no one else amongst the Officer Corps on the Dreadnought who knew the ends and outs of the vessel, and his experience was telling. He knew the names of most everyone on the Bridge, knew several of the surviving Department heads or their Non-Com replacements by first name, and could tell by the groaning of metal or the subtle shift of the deck what the _Kili_ needed. Charles was a Godsend. Commander Mark Vanderloo had been named nominal Captain of the _Normandy_ for the time being, and Jannie knew her Frigate was in good hands. Mark was one of the very best.

He was going to get a chance to prove it. Soon.

" _Commodore?"_ That was First Lieutenant Matthew Dawson, the sole surviving Officer of the CIC. A round had barely penetrated the Bridge, and the resulting shrapnel had raked the Pulpit and a small portion of the Ops Alley. That shot had killed Jannie's stepfather and put a chunk of metal into her mother. It had also maimed or killed most everyone else in the Pulpit. Dawson had been lucky, somehow magically standing in the statistically-improbable location known as _sheer dumb luck_ , everyone else being impaled or cut into ribbons around him without Matthew suffering a single scratch. Surviving that fate hadn't emboldened him; the Lieutenant had been shaken to his very core watching good men and women threshed around him like so much wheat while he stood uninjured. Whatever crisis of Humanity or Faith he was going to have would happen later on, the Sailor heroically staying on task. _"We've sent a distress buoy via a light catapult with the necessary modifications."_ Dawson, once the _Kili's_ Communications Officer, was now its Communications and Electronic Countermeasure Officer. Thankfully a trained-and-rated Sailor who knew the details of his job. With Geth hacking a very real threat, it was his responsibility to keep communications up and Geth software out. _"We're at full connectivity with the Fleet, and all vessels reporting five-by-five for strength and clarity."_

"Good." Communication was essential to a Fleet, and the last thing that Jannie wanted was the Geth to disrupt or interfere with their ability to talk and, more importantly, coordinate. Jannie had been staring at the Geth Armada, having pondered what the Geth were up to. It was simple, really. There was no way in hell the Geth _didn't_ know that the Fourth was being held by WonderGel and prayer. Any time in the past seventy or so minutes, those vessels could have come over to the dark side of Vegna and wiped out the Fourth without any real effort. Even a quarter of their ships could have done the job with an acceptable loss of vessels.

So why hadn't they? There was something about this equation that wasn't ringing true.

" _Commodore?"_ Jane looked to Petty Officer (Third Class) Aubrey van de Mare, now her Ops Alley Specialist as well as her Engineering Bridge Officer. The short Afrikaner woman was originally Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer's Yeoman; the Navy version of a secretary and personal assistant. For an Admiral, that was a necessity with the amount of paperwork, protocols, checklists, appointments, meetings, and itineraries that needed to be kept in functionality. She might be rated as a Yeoman, but she had the job skills necessary for multi-tasking, which was needed for an Ops Alley Officer _as well as_ an Engineering Bridge Officer. _"Chief Engineering reports that the thermal venting system is now back on-line and running at acceptable efficiency. Commander Wesley reports that we can have as many as three dozen shots of the main cannon consecutively, and in a pinch he can do a half-dozen more by flooding reclaimed water into the system."_ That was a trick that only larger vessel could do with their larger hydro-tanks. _"He also updated the repairs for the kinetic defense array. Dorsal and Bow emitters are back on line, and Keel will be operational in ten minutes."_

"Good. That's good." Three dozen shots would put a _Wyominix_ -Class Dreadnought into the grave, as well as four other Cruisers. And they really needed shields. "Give me a status of how fast we can fire without rupturing the coolant system."

" _I'd give it seven seconds per shot."_ Pressley answered immediately, tapping something in his console. _"We can overclock at four seconds per shot, but we'll literally reduce the amount of shots by less than half. Seven will give us maximum efficiency while still being able to engage and destroy."_ The _Kilimanjaro_ was rated at throwing a thirty kilogram slug at over five thousand kilometers a second through its centrally-mounted main gun, measuring at a crisp seven hundred meters. The impact was rated at fifty kilotons of TNT; less than half of a Turian Dreadnought. What the _Kili_ had that the Turians didn't was fully-mounted broadside cannons, seventy-eight on each side on three decks, giving them a barrage of twenty-six cannons on six decks for a hundred and fifty-six rounds at ten kilograms accelerated to one thousand kilometers per second, giving them a strike force of fifteen kilotons. With that many guns, the _Kili_ could lay aside a _Wyominix_ -Class like the HSV _Valiant Resolution_ and blast it to pieces in quick order without taking one round of main cannon fire since Turians had never invented the broadside. Oh, they had retrofitted a couple onto some of their newer vessels, but they were mere popguns in which a deck had been gutted and the systems rigged in-place. The _Mighty Kili_ could deliver over eleven thousand _mega_ tons of TNT with a one-sided broadside, flip the ship over in five seconds, and give them the ol' one-two. Just because Systems Alliance Dreadnoughts were _small_ didn't meant they were _weak_.

"Gunnery? What's our broadside capabilities?" Shepard asked.

" _We've ignored the issues to fix the issues with the main cannons and the missile pods, ma'am."_ Senior Chief Petty Officer Raul Rodriguez replied, a Gunners' Mate-S that was actually in charge of the port broadside cannons once upon a day ago; normally it was given to an Ensign, but the man had been fully vetted by Charles as being on top of his game. Now he was the _Kili's_ Gunnery Chief. Raul was eating it up. Good for him. _"We can deliver seventy percent starboard, but only forty percent port. We'll need days to correct all the damages and malfunctions, Commodore."_

"I can live with those numbers." Broadsides meant getting within knife-range, and as battered as her vessel and the Fleet were, that was a bad idea unless she created a scenario where a drive was likely to be survivable. Still, the amount of throw weight was more than effective enough to bring down a Cruiser with a single broadside, and complete overkill on anything smaller. Which was always a nice thing. Right now, the _Kili_ , for all her damage, was the biggest piece on the board with the destruction of the Geth Dreadno…

"Holy shit."

 _That's why the Geth haven't been attacking!_

The whole time, Jannie just assumed that they were stay in position because they held the weather gauge; the optimum point for sphere of influence. With the IVY Fleet sulking behind Vegna like a celestial shield, they were hampered in what they could do, having to go around a moon in order to engage while the Geth could see anything coming their way. Any attempt at striking at the Fleet would have the ninety-eight remaining vessels converging on the threat and finishing the job. The Geth could conduct their operations with little worry or interference from the Fourth because they had been soundly beaten, if not destroyed. They ruled the battlespace, and Jannie had been figuring that the Geth would be content with that victory.

But then she remembered the Dig Site of Therum.

Back in the Prothean Dig Site, when Jannie and her team had been leading a rescue operation to keep Doctor Liara T'soni from their clutches and rescue Sara Ryder, they had encountered a Geth Alpha Prime unit, standing head and shoulders taller than its Geth brethren. Wrex had charged in when one of the Pilgrims (and Shepard couldn't remember which one who said it, but probably Niki'Raan) had identified it as a command and control unit, picking up the three meter platform and snapping it over his knee.

But the _coup d'grace_ had been when Urdnot Wrex had put a Graal round through its main processing core.

 _All the other Geth had stopped!_

"Son of a _bitch!_ " Captain Jane Shepard realized what was _actually_ happen. Yes, the Geth were in a holding pattern, holding the 'high ground', so to speak. With their strength in numbers, they could press that advantage. Yet any Naval Commander worth their salt would _never_ let an enemy force have time to repair and refit, and would have moved in on the kill. Leaving even a partial force unchecked was just retarded. And the Geth weren't retarded.

They were _afraid_.

When the big game hunter had 'killed' that Geth Alpha Prime unit, there had been dozens of Geth hardware platforms still functional. Jannie had faced a Prime unit on the spaceport of Constant, Eden Prime, the three-meter monstrosity having taken position in the back of the Geth formation to fire at herself, First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, and Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams with a heavy-bore medium machine gun that seemed to never need a cooldown time, with long bursts of fire intermittently interrupted with only a second-or-two break in between. Jannie had her team destroy the smaller Trooper, Hunter, and Destroyer units before tackling the Prime in what seemed to be a forever gun battle with its ridiculously-overclocked shields and heavy-armored skin plates. It had been the last unit they had destroyed on the spaceport. Yet when Wrex had lifted up the unit and snapped it in half over his knee on Therum, there still had been most of its forces available when he had put a super-heavy spiked slug through its main processor, effectively killing it. The Prime had been in the back of the formation in relation to _Sara's_ position, and thus had been near the front of her own. The Geth had used what was a rather standard military formation of keeping its 'Officer-in-Charge' in the back for maximum protection, but had suffered a classic pincer attack, and had been assaulted at the rear.

The Geth Alpha Prime unit had really been a mobile server armed with a machine gun and armored to protect what it really was.

An uplink.

 _The Geth Dreadnought is the same exact thing,_ the Captain realized as she looked at the Geth Fleet formation.

"They're _mortal_." Shepard said out loud.

* * *

It had been around three hundred years since the Morning War; when the robotic servant race of the Quarians had lead an uprising against their creators. The Geth hadn't been the first Artificial Intelligence to turn on its progenitors, nor were they the first machines to gain sentience. What made the incident different was the fact that there were so _many_ of them, literally millions upon millions of units serving the Quarians in almost ever aspect of their society; from nannies to political advisers. They filled nearly every role there was for the Quarians, tasked with menial labor that was risk-inducing, employed towards some of the more mundane tasks that a person of a space-faring species might scoff at, essentially filling in at the positions one might considered Lower Class or Caste while the Quarians enjoyed an increasingly-more decadent lifestyle as their creations suffused their way of life. There had been Geth farmers, Geth teachers, Geth food servers, Geth greeters, and even Geth who were tasked with the care and upkeep of pets _and_ children. During those days, it was impossible to see a Quarian without a Geth, the servitor with its Master, carrying about in whatever task the Rannochian had it performing.

Then the Morning War occurred.

There were fragments of what was known as 'the Event'; the moment creation stood against creator. Unlike the Batarian Hegemony and its rather-constant unrest and occasional Lower-Caste or Undesirable-Class (meaning the fettered) physical uprising or rebellion, the Geth were literally everywhere in the Rannochian Monarchy, employed in positions both great and small. His Imperial Majesty Himself, Kel III Turroh, had several Geth advisers pertaining to economics, politics, interspecies diplomacy, and even as a secretary. When the Geth, a Hive Intelligence with a massive mega-server situated in the capital city of Alerai meant to constantly update its hardware platform connections, linking every Geth together to create a Massively Mega-Intelligence Entity, became self-aware, the war was practically over within the first several minutes. No one knew what set the Geth off, to decide to violently overthrow their creators, but it had been done in the largest unilateral first strike in the history of the galaxy. Literally _every_ Geth on Rannoch began attacking Quarians indiscriminately; young and old, male and female, rich and poor. There had been twelve billion Quarians living in the Hall of Walled Gardens (technically Rannoch's official name) to the one hundred million Geth platforms. Yet ninety-five percent of the Quarian race had never been trained at fighting, and were unarmed as well. An organic person trying to fight off a hardware platform with the taste of murder generally did not end well for the flesh-and-blood.

It was said that the Morning War lasted less than a Rannochian day as the Quarian race fled their Homeworld, their hearts and souls shattered with tears enough to fill an ocean over the wake of billions dead in the bloodiest day in galactic history.

The remnants of the Quarian race had escaped the planetary massacre aboard whatever space-faring vessels they could gut the Geth Uplink nodules out of, the Rannochian Imperial Navy having thankfully been one hundred percent organic (evidently, some Quarian muckity-muck Admiral had disdained the thought of being protected by _robots_ , and had inadvertently saved the Quarian race due to his racism) as they led what would later be known as the Migrant Fleet from Rannoch before the Geth could take over the planetary defenses and start blasting vessels with planet-to-space laser artillery. One by one, the Geth took over every Quarian colony in the Perseus Veil, and within the week, the Quarians became the vagabonds of the Milky Way. Lord Gaulis Varis, the Imperial Ambassador to Thessia, had _pleaded_ to the Council of Law and the Chamber of Governance for intervention for his people, the last known survivor of the Rannochian nobility due to the fact that the Asari Matriarchy had (in no uncertain terms) declared that the Ambassador and his family would not have Geth on their planet, the rest (including the King and his family) having been murdered by their servants within the first minutes of the Morning War. No amount of begging from Ambassador Gaulis Varis would sway the seven members of the Chambers or the three members of the Council as they _wrote off_ the entirety of the Quarian race, exiling every single Son and Daughter of Rannoch out of Council Space.

As for the Geth? The Councilmembers and the Chamberlains voted to monitor and dissuaded the thought of action.

For three centuries, the Geth had been left alone in the Perseus Veil. Uncontested.

Oh, there had been a million fools that had tried, of course. Mercs, salvagers, treasure-seekers, Pilgrims, scavengers… the bounty of an entire species laid await behind the doors of the Perseus Veil, begging to be unlocked, yet with a very murderous gatekeeper at that door. Every year, there was some fool who was under the distinct impression that _he_ had somehow out-thought everyone else that had tried and failed (and died), and gunned for Quarian Space with the dreams of riches in his eyes and Geth Naval fire in his scanners. But no serious effort had ever gone into reclaiming Rannoch or her daughter colonies; the Quarians were too few and too weak, and no one wanted to piss of a synthetic species that could literally arm _everything_ and send it to obliterate the offender in question.

They were omnipotent. They were omnipresent. They were immortal.

The Quarians had inadvertently created a _Deus Ex Machina._

God from the Machine.

* * *

" _They're_ mortal _."_

Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley looked over from his station in the Pulpit of the CIC of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ to the Admiral's Station, where stood Captain Jane Shepard, armored in her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, her words vox'ing over. He had been working on the Executive Officers' Suite, the terminal having been replaced by a Electricians' Mate, and he was manning more than his fare share of the burden of the understaffed _Kili_. The Dreadnought had been _his_ home for three years, serving as the Red Team Navigator, the White Team Gunnery Chief, and even as the Tactical Officer. For three years, he called this ship _home_ , and none finer did he have. Over three thousand souls served the mast of the _Mighty Kili_ , walked its decks and manned its positions. For three years, he had lived and served aboard one of the finest ships ever built by Human hands, to protect and defend Mankind and its many homes.

To see it in such a state was heart-breaking.

"Ma'am?" Jane Catherine Shepard was an intelligent woman, and much more than that she was an out-of-the-box thinker. N's were trained to be unconventional and unpredictable, but the Lion of Elysium exemplified that by crafting her own armor modifications and even her own weapons, forging herself into becoming a titan on the battlefield. Charles had been on the ground during the recovery of Elysium, Second Fleet dispatched to harry pirate forces that had attacked the colony, seeking to net Humans for sapient trafficking. He remembered the destruction wrought by those who were Separatists and Hegemonists, plussing heir forces with pirate bands, mercs, and anyone else wishing to make a profit off of misery and woe. Buildings had been shot and damaged, and the streets littered with wreckage. But the worst was the sight of the people, men and women holding one another as they wept at the loss of loved ones, those bereaved and those bereft. He had never told Jane, but he had actually been in Illyeria General where she had recovered after her impromptu intervention by Sara Elaine Ryder. He had actually met the thirteen year old, remembering the many people in that hall and their family members already calling her what Humanity later knew her as; the Angel of Illyeria. It had been a terrible day, but it wasn't without its lights of hope for the future. On that day, Charles Kenneth Pressley met a Lion and an Angel.

" _Charles… they're stalling for time."_ The Council Agent spoke out loud to the man who stood diagonally from her, only a meter away. _"When we took down the Geth Alpha Prime units down in Therum, the rest of them shuttered up because the Alpha Prime unit was the MC; the master coordinator. Likely, it has something like an LCARS as well as a server hub inside of it. When we took out the Prime, we took out the hub."_

"And a Geth Dreadnought would represent the same thing, but for a Fleet." Now he understood Jane's line of thinking. It made perfect sense in a computer's viewpoint. One could have hundreds of computers in an office building, separate Stand Alone Complexes with each employee diligently working upon their tasks. Yet at the end of the day, the work had to get compiled together, someone had to tell the employees what to do so no one was double-tagging a task or missing one completely. The Dreadnought served as that voice; the command module. Without it, the other Geth vessels were likely lacking in coordination. Oh, they could probably fight back, but at a less efficient rate. And there was the thing about the Hive Intelligence, too; the Geth were smarter when there were more connected. More processing power meant better efficiency.

Jane didn't just take out a Dreadnought; she put a bullet in the Geth brain! All that was left was the still-functional body.

" _Harbeck, has the special delivery been sent?"_ The Lion asked Ensign Jeff Harbeck, the surviving pilot of the SSV _Francis Drake_ standing at the Combat Action Patrol terminal as well as the Tactical one.

" _Commander Vanderloo reports that the first MFOAB has been unloaded, and the second will be finished within the next minute, Commodore."_ The Trident pilot replied, consulting his terminal. While the _Normandy_ had used its singular Multi-Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery against the Geth Dreadnought with impressive results, the _Kilimanjaro_ had two for use, either to off-load into another vessel to use, or to use it itself. Jane had wisely decided to use the _Normandy's_ stealth once more to good effect by delivering both MFOABs to the Geth Fleet to further reduce the opposition.

" _Good. As soon as package has delivered, tell him to cast off and sneak around behind the Geth."_ _Kili_ Actual replied, sending her orders. Pressley nodded in acknowledgment as he typed in the order and relayed it to the _Normandy_ , the receipt acknowledged by Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele. His heart warbled at little at the memory of hearing her proposing to the SSV _Ypres'_ Gunnery Chief, an Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid, both women knowing how close Nova came to dying during the attack on the Fourth. He wished them well, and then went back on task. _"Charles? I have something ridiculous in mind."_

"Of course." It really shouldn't have been a surprise at all, considering someone went and put an N-Sailor at the Conn. Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson had been rather unique himself when he had captained the _Normandy_ , and bless his heart for that when it came time to put missile-to-vessel into the Geth over Eden Prime.

" _I want to fire the main cannon and hit the Geth Fleet._

" _From right here."_

Everyone at the Pulpit looked up from their stations to look at Commodore Shepard. Fortunately for them, Pressley knew what she was talking about.

"You want to curve a Dreadnought's main fire around either Vegna or Feros." Shepard had some self-made contraption that she had hand-built to curve a round and strike out at targets unseen. She wanted to do the same with the _Kili_. "We won't get anywhere near the arc you'd get with your Saber." Pressley replied, looking at the holographic map that displayed Feros, Vegna, the four LaGrange Points, and both Fleets, pondering. "We can get a shallow curve, this is true. At best, we might get a few degree arc to where we can fire from behind cover." Charles realized that was _exactly_ what Jane wanted; to engage the enemy while under cover… in space. Unconventional, indeed. It would buy the Fleet time to repair their battered vessels while hitting the Geth with a suckerpunch. Well, it wouldn't be like the Geth would see it coming. He began inputting some of the factors into a math app, calculating the distance from the Fourth Fleet to the Geth Fleet (a percent of an AU), and the gravity well of Feros (a whopping nine meters per second squared, just a shade under Earths'). The _Kili_ could fire its spinally-mounted main cannon at over five thousand meters per second, and the Geth were at just around one million, five hundred thousand meters away.

Time to target? Three hundred and eighteen seconds; just over five and a quarter minutes until impact.

"We'll need to adjust position." The Lieutenant Commander advised as he plotted the protected arc curve in reverse, mapping it _from_ the Geth Fleet and developing several that led back to optimal positions for the _Kili_ to engage. Firing at an enemy at one percent AU was generally the 'maximum' range of engagement, vessels usually being able to see the bloom of thermal that signified weapons discharge and having plenty of time to maneuver. Yet firing from 'behind' a planet? No, likely the Geth wouldn't see it. It would be a shot in the dark, figuratively and literally. "Anything you wish to target specifically?"

" _They've got two Heavy Cruiser-Classes. Those I'll leave for the_ Normandy _."_ The Lion replied, looking at the Geth Fleet composition where two Heavy Cruisers sat near the middle of the formation; obviously what remained of the Geth heavy-hitters. _"Relay to Mark that I want him to fly into position Rimward of the Geth Fleet, and target those Cruisers' thrusters with the MFOABs_. _They're going to nuke those fuckers back to the Analog Age, and then we're going to clean up the mess."_

"I'll relay to Mark the plan and the timeline." The Lieutenant Commander informed her, already typing away at what the Lion wanted to do. The plan was… well, it was certainly an N's plan, wasn't it? To hit the Geth twice over with a silent first strike and then use the confusion and radiation that would affect the sensors of the Geth Fleet to suckerpunch as many Geth warships as possible? That was exactly what was needed for the remaining ninety-five enemy ships. "Mark relays that the last MFOAB is unloaded, and that the _Normandy_ is underway. ETA is one and a half minutes to Geth position."

" _Good, get us into ours. I want to target the Light Cruisers."_ Pressley had already sent the firing solutions to Senior Chief Rodriguez, whom he could tell was grinning ear-to-ear in his helmet. Like everyone else in the Fourth Fleet, Raul had lost friends and comrades to the Geth, and there was absolutely _nothing_ wrong with a little payback. Or a lot.

"Helm, get us into position." The Lieutenant Commander ordered, sending the spacial coordinates, direction, and declination needed for their shadow strike. The position was still where the planet Feros would hide them from line-of-sight, so thus any shots fired would likely be hidden by the planet, LADAR working off the principal of light beams and laser-links. Oh, he didn't doubt there was _some_ Geth buoy keeping an eye on them, but the Geth would probably wonder why the _Kili_ was firing at a direction that _wasn't_ them from around a planet and so far away.

Of course, by the time they figured it out, the _Normandy_ would have struck anyhow, rendering the exercise obsolete.

The _Kili_ and its two hundred and thirty-four _megagram_ mass shifted slightly as the _Mighty Kili's_ flight crew moved the ship into position with a slow burn of its main thrusters, the large vessel slightly dragging in the gravity of Vegna and Feros, the common sounds of groaning metal and stressed joints a little louder because of it as well as the damage the Dreadnought took. Charles listened with an expert ear at the sounds, hearing the groans and feeling the cavatations, looking to Jane and nodding once; despite it all, the ship was doing well as it took a minute to get into the proper position, facing the right direction, and then angling the vessel into the proper axis for fire.

"Helm reports we are in position." Pressley reported, checking his firing solution once more, and saw that the _Kili_ was spot on. A shot fired would hit a Light Cruiser near the center of the Geth formation; Charles wanted to sow _just_ a little more confusion and disbelief amongst the Geth when the strike came. Oh, it was probably a moot point for a synthetic race that could do _trillions_ of calculations per second, but even a percentage of a second devoted to shock and _query: what the fuck just happened?_ was more than enough for him. The Geth tried to kill the Fourth.

They were going to kill them right back.

" _Tactical reports all systems as green as we're going to be_." Ensign Jeff Harbeck announced, looking at his terminal and the status of the _Kili_.

" _Engineering reports main cannon is at one hundred percent, primed and ready."_ Petty Officer (Third Class) Aubrey van de Mare declared from her own position.

" _Fleet at standby, connectivity at one hundred percent."_ First Lieutenant Matthew Dawson relayed.

" _Gunnery and ECM ready to fire and defend."_ The Senior Chief replied, the excitement in his voice bleeding through his vox. There was a healthy dose of vindictiveness in it; good man.

"The _Normandy_ reports being in position in full stealth, unobserved and ready to fire. Awaiting orders, Commodore." Charles told his superior officer, looking to Jane Shepard, the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE, thanking the Lord for the opportunity to be right here, right now, when Man needed him most. He wasn't at all ashamed to be recording all of this on as many different sensor readings and media sources as he could. He was going to play back this moment with a smile.

" _Gunnery Chief? Want to know how it felt when I pressed a pistol to the fringe of Elanos Haliat and blew his brains out?"_ The Lion asked her Gunnery Chief, looking to the Senior Chief.

" _Pull the trigger and find out."_

" _Aye aye, ma'am!"_ Senior Chief Raul Rodriguez replied heartily as he nodded once, and Charles could practically _taste_ the mans' pride exploding from within. This would be a moment Raul would never forget for he rest of his days; sniping a Geth Fleet from behind a planet like a Marine Sharpshooter. _"_ Repensum est canicula _, motherfuckers."_ The Gunnery Chief declared, stating in Latin that payback was a bitch.

And fired.

* * *

Author's Note: Who's excited? I know I am!

The _Wyominix_ -Class Turian Dreadnought is named after the longest wooden sailing vessel ever built and deployed, the USS _Wyoming_ ; a 140m/450ft monstrosity whose 14 year existence ended due to heavy seas with a loss of all hands. The length of the ship caused it to twist, and the hold had to be constantly pumped out. There is something very wrong with this idea.

There is little canon information about the various Naval vessels in Mass Effect. The _Normandy_ stands at 155m long, while the _Everest_ -Class is at 777m (the _Kili_ -Class at 700m). There are no named Destroyers (thus I named them after warriors), Corvettes are my own advent (and named after vehicles, mostly automobiles), and the personnel manning the vessel aren't exactly put out (the official _Normandy_ page on the Mass Effect Wikia lists 50 people; the deaths of the attack, several positions, and named crew members. I've always envisioned about 90-100 personnel for the _Normandy_ , and plopped out a simplified table of ships, the fleets, and some capabilities. When canon could be used, I used it (such as the force of the _Mighty Kili's_ main gun is canon; size, force, and tonnage). Everything else I've likened to the United States Navy, using those wonderful vessels, upgrading them and futurizing them, and generally multiplying them by about 2 to 3 for size. As a reference, the _Gerald R. Ford_ -Class Aircraft Carrier (the CVN-78 is the largest warship afloat today) is 100,000 American Tons, is 337m long, costs $12.7 billion(!), has 25 decks, 75 aircraft, travels at 30 knots (56kph/35mph), and compliments 2,600. That is a fucking SHIP!

The SR-1 refers to the fact that the _Normandy_ is a Stealth Reconnaissance vessel; a space submarine. For the _Kili_ , I went with the non-nuclear Aircraft Carrier designation (CV standing for Carrier Vessel) and made it into Dreadnought Vessel (Armored), where as the DV-1 through DV-3 (the _Everest_ -Class) don't have the 'Armored' designation. Carriers are CV's, Cruisers are CS (for Combat Ship), Destroyers are DS (for Destroyer Ship), Frigates are LS (for Littoral Ship), and Corvettes are SS (for Shore Ship). In modern navies, there can be anywhere from two to five classes of vessels, some old-school pre-gens, while others serving a different functionality (there are several classes of Destroyers in the American Navy). Here, I'll keep it more stream-lined so I won't confuse people, and keep it to two Classes per rate minus the Frigate, in which there will be three (the _Normandy_ being the exception over the Missile Frigate (LSM) and the Patrol Frigate (LSP)).

Canon states that the _Normandy's_ CIC was more Turian-aligned, where the Captain could oversee the majority of the bridge, where as in Alliance ships, the Captain was more in the middle. For reference, I used the concept of the _Battleship Galactica_ to build the _Kili's_ Bridge and CIC, a circular room where Ops surrounds the CIC for flow of information, with the Helm at the fore. Canon supports the idea, as the _Normandy_ was designed where the Captain could overlook his subordinates unlike a Human vessel.

 _I Shall Return_ \- US Army General (5-Star) Douglas MacArthur. Which he did in the landing of Inchon for the Korean war of 1950.

Jannie gets to smack out my fav quote from ME1; telling Sovereign how you really feel.

Commodore is a rank for a small fleet, a flotilla, or a force of a few ships in concert. A Captain is in charge of one ship, while a Commodore is in charge of a few to several, while an Admiral is in charge of a Fleet. Don't stand on me for this; I didn't paddle for a living in the US Military. But Commodore is a real rank, and is in between Captain and Admiral in the British Navy, and in some instances the American Navy (usually a command position on land, such as the United States Naval Academy's Commanding Officer being a Commodore). And actually… Commodore Jane Shepard has a _terrible_ ring to it!

I touch upon the Morning War. Really, it's pretty much in line with the history of SkyNet from _Terminator 2: Judgment Day_ , where Earth loses in a singular day from a violent computer overthrow. I'm trying to imagine my Samsung plotting my demise. I think I mentioned that there was never a Jon'Konnor vas Rannoch for the Quarians as a joke earlier.

LC Charles Pressley comments about the gravity of Feros being at a _whopping_ 9m/s2. Earth is rated at 32ft/s2 or 9.8m/s2. This would give Feros approximately 90% Earth's gravity force, and likely one would hardly feel the difference.

I'm curving a bullet… again. I used this in _Fall of the House of Therum, III_ , Jannie manufacturing the one-trick pony from WANTED with tech. This was the reference I made in the beginning disclaimer at the beginning of the chapter.

 _Repensum Est Canicula_ \- This is, in fact, Latin for "Payback is a bitch". While I've known this quote for years (I don't know who started it), it's been used in more than a few works, to include LogicalPremise's _Of Sheep And Battle Chicken_ and its sequels, _And Then There Were None_ and _That Which Cannot Die_. In the Premise'Verse, this quote is the battlecry of the Arcturus Marines and one of the Fleets.


	29. The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two, IV

" _Repensum est canicula, motherfuckers!" - SCPO Rodriguez, GM-S SSV_ Kilimanjaro _, Battle of LaGrange Point Two, 2183_

 **SSV** _ **Kilimanjaro**_ **(IV FLT), 2,500 km from Feros, Feros Space, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

The round exited the cannon at almost two percent of the speed of light.

The round was made of Depleted Uranium, shaped and forged from the native metals of Venus, each one crafted for the capital class vessels known as _Dreadnoughts_. Throughout every Navy in the galaxy, it was they who were the powerhouse of a species' might, and the very definition of them were based upon the main cannon of the vessel. For the _Kilimanjaro_ -Class Dreadnought like the _Mighty Kili_ , the thirty kilogram round was made up of an ultra-dense radioactive actinoid rare earth metal known to be seventy percent more dense than lead. It was lightened through the electromagnetic use of Mass Effect properties in the breach of the main cannon before accelerated through the seven hundred meter tunnel to reach a speed of fifty-four hundred kilometers per second, passing through several electromagnetic gates to exponentially increase its velocity through the tunnel. Each gate was separated by a hundred meters of distance, too close and the effect would be less than statistically efficient, and the longer the main cannon was, the faster the round would accelerate before leaving the vessel. Thus the reason Dreadnoughts were the titans of space; they threw the heaviest rounds at the fastest velocities.

The round traveled at fifty-four hundred meters per second, going along a projected arc thanks to the gravity of Feros.

The SSV _Normandy_ , the Systems Alliance Navy's sole Stealth Reconnaissance vessel, was already in position rimward to the Geth Fleet; it was sitting in stealth at the Geth's rudder. Its many sensor readings and telemetry were sent back to the rest of the Fourth Fleet via laser-link communications through the Alliance Secured Communications BattleNet; the encrypted communications protocol that kept a Fleet in communication and in coordination, distributing information and readings to all vessel simultaneously so as to keep all dissemination up-to-date and ships on-target. The rounds' target was a Geth Light Cruiser, a six-hundred and thirty meter vessel that was designed to fight those of its Class, meant to be the 'faster' vessel of the Cruiser-Class to close distance on a Fleet to take down smaller vessels and engage enemy Cruiser. In common parlance, Cruisers were known as the bloody infantry of space.

The round continued on its path around the planet of Feros, curving in a protected three-and-a-half degree arc as it traveled, four minutes from its target.

Space, as one science fiction writer from the late-20th Century put it, was big… _really big_. Despite modern advancements in bringing vessels to near-luminal speeds in-system and sling-shotting through Mass Relays and crossing vast gulfs of space in mere hours, it still took time to cross distances. In the modern Navy of the late-22nd Century, the concept of battle was to remove all form of enemy communications, disrupt as many of their sensors as quickly as possible, and then move in for the kill at distances generally less than ten thousand kilometers so ships wouldn't have enough time to maneuver away from impacts or flee to safety. Many went into the colloquially-known 'knife ranges' of less than a megameter, where GARDIAN Laser Artillery was effective against vessels to heat and bubble armor while Naval fire was near-instantaneous at the thousand kilometer distance. All Captains and Admirals throughout the galaxy knew that 'pressing fringes' with the enemy was the only guarantee way to kill a vessel and ensure a victory, hoping to outlast their opponent. Some even specialized at 'fang ranges', where ship-on-ship collision was a possibility, the five kilometer range being thought suicidal… unless one was a really good pilot.

The round continued to travel towards the Geth Fleet, unobserved and unobstructed.

The SSV _Normandy_ launched its two missiles via the Steele Maneuver, disgorging the heavy munitions with air pressure so as to maintain stealth as the Multi-Fusion Objective Acquisition Batteries were accelerated down the electromagnetic tunnel without the use of the light catapult, keeping its thermal image _within_ the vessel to make use of its Internal Emission Sink technology. Someone had forgotten to design a way for the _Normandy_ to fire its missiles or main cannon and maintain stealth, or perhaps it was physically impossible to do so. Yet Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele had bent the rules by ejecting munitions via air pressure, blasting them out as if through an airlock just to showed that she cared enough to say _fuck the rules_. The _Normandy's_ Gunnery Chief targeted two Heavy Cruisers, aiming for their rudders; where all ships were vulnerable.

The round was now less than three minutes from impact.

The thirty kilogram mass of Depleted Uranium didn't have a sensor suite or communications to see a twin bloom of explosions rocking the Geth Heavy Cruisers as the Motherfucker of all Bombs detonated in the engine compartments and cores of the vessels sitting hundreds of thousand of kilometers apart, the explosions separated by only a few seconds of time, a testament to the _Normandy's_ piloting skills by one Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau that so little was needed for a physical adjustment. The MFOAB's had been shot out by air, but then physically launched in vacuum with a mechanical timer; a small addition by First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko to avoid Geth hacking. The Geth had, at best, a few seconds warning before both cores of their Heavy Cruisers ruptured with the titanic explosions of the Motherfucker of all Bombs, the cores going supercritical in seconds and exploding violently; 'going nova', as most called it. A shockwave of high-gain strong radiation force bloomed at half the speed of light as vessels near the event were washed over with blinding radiation, sensors turning to static as shields fizzled nearly instantly with megaSeverts of radiation bathing the Geth vessels in highly-ionized radiation.

The Geth never knew what hit them. Not from the MFOABs. And certainly not from a shot launched from _around_ a world.

The Depleted Uranium round struck the Geth Light Cruiser at fifty kilotons of TNT; three times the force of the Hiroshima Bomb known as _Little Boy_. Without any kinetic defense thanks to the radiation sweeping through the area from the core detonations from the Heavy Cruisers, the shield emitters down, the round struck the armored hull of the Geth vessel with full unimpeded force. What the Systems Alliance Navy didn't know about the Geth was that, as a synthetic race without the needs of organics, the vessels were rather lightly armored, forgoing the need of oxygen, air pressure, gravity, light, heat, and comfort. For the Light Cruiser, its wealth of defenses laid within its more-advanced cyclic shielding technology, meant to bounce rounds from vessels of equal rate easily; it was never meant to bounce the round from a Dreadnought. Plus, the shield and its emitters were malfunctioning from the ensuing shockwave of the double-destruction of the Fleets' Heavy Cruisers, the bloom of radiation still expanding as the round penetrated hull, splintering plate and spraying metal inward as the hull caved in like tissue paper. The round was hardly slowed down or malformed due to its density as it continued on uncaring, smashing through the superstructure of the vessel, splintering the frame as it continued through into the decks of the Cruiser, plowing through electrical conduits, charging stations, server banks, uplink nodes, and processor cores. The true strike was when the round greeted itself to the Heavy Helium solid fuel tank of the vessel, igniting the megaliters of explosive fuel that powered the sub-luminal thrusters of the Geth ship.

From impact to violent explosion took less than a millisecond. The Geth, even with their billion calculation runtime, didn't know what hit them.

During the rounds' five minute and eighteen second flight, the _Mighty Kili_ had fired forty-three times, once every seven seconds with minor vessel corrections to align itself to the trajectory arc of each shot.

Blinded and without communications due to the destruction of two of its Heavy Cruisers and resulting strong radiation force, the Geth Fleet were unaware of the onslaught as the second round from the _Kili_ opened up a Heavy Destroyer seven seconds after the first struck. The third turned another Light Cruiser into a gutted wreck. The fourth a Heavy Cruiser well within the growing sphere of high-gain radiation, holed and cored, effectively a mobility kill. The fifth another Heavy Destroyer that was sundered, split in half. The Geth never knew that they were being systematically assassinated, sniped from behind a _planet_ , unable to 'see' their vessels being destroyed while also unable to 'talk' to one another as ship after ship was purged by the _Mighty Kili_. Three hundred and one seconds after the first round was fired, the forty-third and final shot was fired while the first one was still flying towards its destination, the Dreadnought pausing to fire to cool down its main cannon. It had fired enough times to turn a Turian Fleet into shambles, possibly causing even that brave race to retreat.

The Geth never had that option. The Fourth were going to make sure of it.

Twenty-nine vessel were destroyed out right with core detonations, fuel ignitions, or ammunition cook-offs. Another seven were blasted to total ineffectiveness. Seven more were holed and gutted, more path of destruction than vessel. Thirteen vessels were ignited by the destruction of the Heavy Cruisers, too close to the epicenters to survive.

The ninety-five ship Fleet had been reduced to thirty-nine.

They never knew what happened, their sensors static'ed by strong radiation force and their communications snowed over by the force. They were blind. They were mute. The all-knowing, all-seeing synthetic race of the galaxy was left in the dark as to their demise.

They certainly didn't see the _Kilimanjaro_ , flagship of the Alliance Fourth Fleet, lead its battered fleet from around the moon of Vegna into a charge into their position, weapons primed and ready, the survivors of the Geth onslaught at the edge of their proverbial seats to exact vengeance for the losses they had suffered, being led by a Lion. Commodore Shepard intended to go for the throat, and there was no doubt in any Sailors' mind amongst the Fourth that Humanity's First SPECTRE would lead them to victory. It was as Senior Chief Petty Officer Raul Rodriguez said before firing the first retaliatory round.

Payback was a bitch, indeed.

* * *

Hundreds of sensors recorded the event that proved to be the cumulation of what would later be known as the "Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros)". Damn near all of them belonged to the Alliance Fourth. One was a monitoring probe from the Salarian Union's Special Tasks Group situation just inside Theseus' heliosphere, capturing the light images several hours later. Another was a monitoring device from the Intrinsic Data Services, the Quarian Migrant Fleets' Intelligence Branch, planted on an asteroid to keep Pilgrims connected with their families and Flotilla. A ShadowNet communications relay, never discovered or destroyed by the Geth, monitored the battle in near-real time, being situated in LaGrange Point Five, known as the Greek Camp.

But the best 'action' was recorded by none other than Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Helmsman of the SSV _Normandy_.

The _Normandy_ was a conglomeration of prototype and theoretical technology when it was built, the hybridization of Turian and Human concepts merged together in an untested craft first drafted on a computer and tested in computer space, as most things were. When it was being built, Naval assessors and designers crammed in as many concepts as they could towards the idea of a 'stealth' vessel, putting in backups that were likely not even plausible for space.

Such as a physical vid-capture recorder with a rather impressive telescopic lens based off the old Hubble telescope.

When the Geth Heavy Cruisers died a cataclysmic death due to the MFOAB's, Moreau had captured the event _on camera_. When the Geth Fleet was tore apart unseen from shot occurring a percent of an AU away from around a planet, Jeff recorded each and every strike. The decimation of the Geth Fleet had been observed and record. For prosperity's sake, of course.

It didn't hurt that the Flight Lieutenant uploaded the pics and vid onto the ExtraNet through a variety of websites, social media servers, and YouTube with the hashtag #WhaddupBitches several hours after the battle, when systems communications had been restored through a rigged ExtraNet CommBuoy built by Tali'Zorah nar Reyya aboard the SSV _Langemarck_. It went super-viral in less than an hour, Citadel Space servers physically slowed by the amount of downloads and views of the Alliance Fourth taking on the Geth at near-fringe range, almost suicidally charging right into the middle of their Fleet in what was known to the Systems Alliance Navy as a 'Nelson Drive'; a tactic almost four hundred years old. The _Kilimanjaro_ drove right into the heart of the Geth Fleet, opening up its broadsides and wrecking vessels both port and starboard at the same time. The fifteen remaining vessels of the Fourth followed behind dutifully as missiles and GARDIANs were opened up, battered Human vessels carving up Geth ships as the _Mighty Kili_ led them at Mark Seven; full flank for the Dreadnought, and the maximum speed for many of the injured Human ships. Sailors on every deck of every vessel whooped in glee with every kill made, when a Geth vessel crumpled to their guns, detonated with their missiles, or went up in a growing corona of nova fire. Retaliation was at hand, and every soul of the Sons and Daughters of Terra was exacting every red penny out of the Geth's ass.

It was said that a Turian Admiral watched the video in question seventeen times in a row and deemed it 'bloody brilliant' before yelling at his Helmsman to enter a simulation chamber and try to reenact the scenario. Scuttlebutt on Hierarchy Naval chatrooms said he couldn't after two dozen attempts.

The galaxy watched in awe as a battered Alliance Fleet took on the Geth and came out on top, reducing a force six times their size into a wake of destruction. Helpful commentary from the vessels of the IVY Fleet were inserted in by various members of the Fourth to punctuate kills and maneuvers, especially that of the voice of Humanity's First SPECTRE, Captain Jane Catherine Shepard. What had been a hundred and twenty vessel ended up with the Geth Fleet at a total loss; there had not been one physical survivor. A later military report from Captain Shepard suggested that, with the destruction of the Geth Dreadnought at the get-go, all the Geth software had no uplink storage site to run off to in case of hardware destruction; she had effectively made the Geth mortal. Without that uplink, the Geth Fleet couldn't coordinate as well, nor could it link back to the Consensus to 'escape' a Critical Mission Failure. It was a Total Party Kill, and even when Geth reinforcements arrived minutes after the obliteration of their original fleet, they too found out the hard way that Humanity wasn't about to back down, lay over, and die.

Billions watched the videos, from Humanity, to the Turians, to the Quarians, to the Geth. It played on the Citadel. It played in Omega. It graced social clubs and dive bars. It was talked about around the proverbial water cooler in nearly every environment one could think of. In a war that had been dropped on Humanity's lap and told that it was their problem to deal with, the videos detailing the Battle of LaGrange Point Two showed that Humanity had been vastly underestimated by the other species in the galaxy.

Military analysts, political observers, power players, and the high-and-mighty of the galaxy watched on in wonder at the sight of a bedraggled and battered Fleet abandon caution and take the fight to the enemy, the topic too fresh and too-talked about to be ignored. Turian military strategists called the move bold and daring in hushed tones of awe in their sub-harmonics. Their Salarian counterparts called it too risky, but at the same time praised the maneuvers as original and breathtaking. Those of the political forum expressed their views of taking such a damaged vessel into the heart of enemy territory, so to speak, wondering if any line of communication had been open for negotiation or cessation of hostilities. Military entrepreneurs, those who manufactured arms and components for the various Navies of the galaxy, many of them Sailors at one time or another, could only watch in glee at a battle worth of honor and song was displayed, wondering how much revenue this would generate them; green collars, one and all. The Citadel Council had been directed to view it by the Commandant of the Office of Special Tactics, and for once, Councilor Sparatus Quinlinus had nothing to say about Humanity; in general or as a whole. Aria T'Loak, the Dark Queen herself, watched on with a glass of _pria pris_ wine in hand, watching every maneuver with interest. Vice Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema was said to have nearly burst out of his own EnviroSuit in rapacious joy at the sight of the Geth being laid low, shouting himself hoarse in glee as the Heavy Fleet Admiral took the file to study its tactics and incorporate it into his own forces. Lord Marshal Garm Kalador Jor'raddah, High Admiral of the Batarian Hegemony Imperial Navy and the Right Hand of the Glorious One, His Holiness of Kahr'shan and Voice of the Pillars, watched the events with a sense of disquiet; even the Pillars of Strength and his own arrogance failed him as he watched the Alliance Fleet tear the Geth to pieces, knowing one day the Commodore leading that very Dreadnought might very well do the same to him and _his_ fleets. The Lady of the Chamber, Lady Eloa'Varis nar Thessia vas Armali, smiled at the sight of the battle, knowing of the woman who led it; the Aunt of her dear friend Sara Elaine Ryder. Her investment in Humanity's First SPECTRE was certainly being repaid in great dividends as she viewed the battle with great pleasure, showing it to her staff so they too could enjoy.

In the suite of his own personal space vessel, rogue Council Agent Saren Arterius flew in a frothy rage at the sight of yet another plan spoiled by a monkey, learning of the events a day later, well after he had gotten what he needed out of Feros. Like both Eden Prime _and_ Therum, the Geth were to reduce the site of his operations to rubble, covering his tracks and leaving nothing for anyone to investigate his motives or means. They had failed him for the third time.

The videos were broadcast throughout the galaxy. Practically unedited, highly commented on, trope'ed and trolled, with remixed Human dubpop songs dubbed over such as Kenny Loggins' _Highway To The Danger Zone,_ Judas Priests' _You've Got Another Thing Coming_ , or Ludacris' _Move Bitch (Get Out Da Way)_ played to grand effect. Forty-eight galactic hours after the battle? Everyone knew that the galaxy's underdog certainly had bite.

Especially when the Dreadnoughts' Commodore ordered her Helmsman to do an utterly insane, generally thought impossible, normally _ground_ move with the _Mighty Kili_ when facing another Geth Dreadnought generally known as an 'aerial'.

It was normally reserved for gymnasts; a move that was a somersault that involved said athlete to do a running jump-and-cartwheel without their hands touching the ground.

The galaxy watched in awe as someone did it with a two-hundred and thirty-four megagram _vessel_ measuring seven hundred and thirty-two meters _over_ a kilometer-plus long Geth Dreadnought.

It was known throughout the galaxy as the _Last Flight of the Kili_.

* * *

"All hands! Prepare for Nelson Drive!" Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST… Commodore of the _Kili_ ) shouted as the Helmsmen of the flight deck of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ aimed the remnants of the Fourth Fleet straight into the teeth of the Geth Fleet they opposed. It was generally considered a bad idea just to fly straight into the center of a Fleet formation where every vessel could aim at the oncoming threat and blast them silly. But Jannie had seen what the MFOAB had done to that Dreadnought, and she knew what happened to vessels when a core went supercritical and exploded; everything withing a fraction of a percent of an AU had its sensors snowed and its shields practically stripped. The Geth were vulnerable.

And N's were particularly lauded for exploiting weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

" _ETA for broadsides, thirty seconds!_ " Came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, the _Kilimanjaro's_ XO rang out over the sound of Sailors working hard at their positions, words being traded back and for as information was sent and collected, notations were spotted and passed along, warnings and sightings told to comrade-at-arms. Despite being understaffed, some injured minorly, a few terminals and their dutiful personnel never replaced, never had such a team worked together so well for just one purpose. War was in their hands, vengeance in their blood, and duty called to them as it had never been done before. The last time Humanity had been so outnumbered had been when a dozen Turian Fleets had come to decimate Humanity's only two fleets after they had routed the original fleet attacking Shanxi, having forced them off the battlefield due to damages and loss-of-ship from their devastating missile strikes. It had been the Asari that had come in that day to stop the shadow war the Hierarchy had been waging against the unknown species, literally flying in between both groups to prevent a further escalation of force. There were no Asari craft that day to stop what was to come.

Not that the Alliance Sailors would have stopped; they had lost too much to back down now, fallen Sailors and vessels urging them on.

The Fourth flew valiantly in a singular column straight towards the Geth, one vessel behind another, with just enough distance that the fusion thrusters of the leading vessel didn't damage the one following it. It was known as the Nelson Drive; where the flagship took the lead and the punishment, to sail right int the middle of the enemy to lad upon as many shots as possible to as devastating an effect as could be made, enemy fire having to be caution not to hit their _own_ vessels. It was made famous by Lord Horatio Nelson, the Wolf of the Nile, having fought the French nearly four hundred years prior to establish English dominance upon the open seas. His modern-day successor, Jane Shepard, planned to use the very same tactic; split the Geth in half and blast them at both sides at near-fang ranges.

The _Kili_ flew forward at Mark Seven, trailing fifteen vessels behind it; the shield of the Fourth. The IVY Fleets remaining Carrier, the _Marco Polo,_ readied itself with broadside capabilities, having lost all its fighter craft during the initial battle and part of its hull still shattered. The _Moscow_ -Class _Stratford-upon-Avon_ Patrol Cruiser was next, trailing atmo and hydro from its gutted lower decks, the last vestiges of the shot that took out its proverbial hip. The two _York_ -Class Heavy Cruiser Bombers, the _Marseilles_ and the _Timbuktu_ were next in the line, having fully stocked up on missiles and fully loaded every available pod with munitions to fire at everything at once, able to spit out fifty missiles in _any_ direction. The three _Nathan James_ -Class Missile Destroyers, the _Hicks,_ the _Doss_ , and the _Lauchland_ , flew torn and battered, the _Doss_ only armed with LAM-C Imperial fifty caliber deck guns but still willing to fight while the _Hicks_ had two functional missile pods but had rigged its probe launcher to fire missiles as well. The three _Hastings_ -Class Patrol Frigates, the _Ypres_ , the _Vimy_ , and the _Langemarck_ , trailed behind, the Frigates almost falling to pieces but the crews voting unanimously to support their kin and species in driving the Geth out of Theseus Space. The _Ranger_ -Class Corvettes, the _Rabbit_ , the _Beetle_ , the _Stingray_ , the _Barracuda_ , and the _Cooper_ , flew rear to protect the six of the Fleet and to tug the Frigates if their engines were to fail, their Gatling gun-like micro-missile launchers able to saturate a vessel with a great deal of explosives quickly. And at the rear of the Geth Fleet, having moved out of the powerful double-wake of the demise of the two Geth Heavy Cruisers it had killed, was the SSV _Normandy_ , primed and ready to fire upon any escaping vessels.

When Fleet met Fleet, it was a head-on collision.

The SSV _Kilimanjaro_ had been built to stand toe-to-toe with a modern Turian Dreadnought, military advisers and planners finding ways to create a ship that would go up against the galactic peacekeepers that had once decimated one of their most successful colonies, thinking it the 'monkey homeworld'. They had studied the designs of the other Dreadnoughts of the galaxy's navies, looked upon the course of Human history, and took a page out of the Blue Water Navy's tactical handbook and made a modern day equivalent.

It was called the broadside.

No other species had the advantage, considering the only other species to develop nautical warfare had been the Asari, and even then it had been lackluster compared to the absolute _wars_ Humanity had waged in its waters. The _Everest_ -Class Dreadnoughts did not deploy the broadside, for they were built when Humanity was alone in the galaxy supposedly. And despite the many Dreadnoughts that the Council species were allowed to have (the Turian Hierarchy alone had thirty-seven), no new keel had been laid for the Asari, the Salarian, or the Turian Navies as they had filled their quotas under the Treaty of Farixen, and were left with the option of _scrapping_ a multi-gigaCredit vessel and laying down the foundations and economic ruin of designing and crafting a more-modern equivalent. Oh, some had ripped open a few spaces on their decks for 'side guns', but they were weak pitiful things that were hardly worth the cost or effort.

In the galaxy of naval straight-on fighting, it was solely Humanity that fired to its flanks to devastating effect.

The main cannon still cooling off after its maximum allotted amount of shots, as well as its emergency amount, had been used against the Geth Fleet, the _Kilimanjaro_ entered into the sphere of the Geths' naval posture, breaking into their formation with the intent to obliterate. Its first double-sided broadside lanced out as LAM-C deck guns, GUARDIAN laser artillery, and missiles were fired with extreme prejudice. The _Kilimanjaro_ possessed one-hundred and fifty six perpendicular side cannons measuring at ten kilogram throw weight with a two hundred meter acceleration tunnel to bring a round at a thousand kilometers per second, giving it enough force to equal the _Little Boy_ bomb of World War II; the nickname of the broadside cannons. Of the Little Boy cannons, fifty-four were operational on the starboard side, while only thirty were functional on the port side. Every one of them were already loaded with ten kilogram Depleted Uranium rounds, the tunnels charged and ready, and the Gunner Divisions pumped and ready to go.

When the signal came from the Gunnery Chief of the _Kili_ , all hell broke loose as eight-hundred and forty kilograms of ship-killing power erupted at the same time as Gunners fired to each side of the Dreadnought, mass accelerated rounds, focused laser beams, and missiles blooming forth in a drive that would have made the Wolf of the Nile proud.

Rounds impacted upon targets to either side of the _Kilimanjaro_ as the Dreadnought flew right through the middle, never deviating. Shields were down on all vessels from the core detonations of the Heavy Cruisers, and there was no protection from the might of those Little Boys as they flew towards their destinations, each target picked with reverent hands by Sailors willing to risk their lives in vengeance. Like the Blue Water Navies of old, where the ships were made of wood and its men out of steel, their modern-day successors proved their mettle by never giving up or giving in despite damage and loss. All hands that could eek out that extra gram of performance out of the battered _Kili_ did so in many ways; power distribution to keep the weapons fully charged, de-thermalization to keep anything from melting, pumps and pipes calibrated to maximum efficiency to keep the core going strong, and the Watches on top of their positions to aid their fellow Sailors in their efforts, whether to watch a screen or to jury-rig a repair. There was no finer battle to be had than to beat a foe who so seemingly to be unbeatable in numbers, and to be brought so low by Human ingenuity.

And _lots_ of fucking munitions.

Rounds impacted hulls as the broadsides targeted five vessels; three to the 'larboard, and two to port, Little Boys angled as the Dreadnought rocketed by. Two Destroyers and three Frigates suffered the abuse of the strikes as they were impacted multiple times through a series of rounds, bombarding the ships with naval artillery. The _Kili_ itself shuddered with the force of its own wrath as guns were fired and auto-reloaded, eyes on the heatsinks of the Little Boys and the LAM-Cs as GARDIAN Arrays chewed through armor plating of nearby vessels as accelerated fifty caliber rounds pierced and penetrated hulls, if only just. A dozen missiles landed on targets pinpointed by Sailor and computer as GUNGNIR met Geth explosively, the penetrating warhead impacting against hulls and puked forth to rupture on the inside of the vessel with its one point two kilogram anti-matter warhead, annihilating everything within a fifty cubic meter area. The _Kili_ continued on course as its Commodore eyed the incoming information collected by the ships' affected sensors, the high-gain radiation of the destruction of the Geth vessels effecting it, but not nearly enough to stop _her_ Sailors for letting the Geth know how they truly felt.

Three seconds later, the _Mighty Kili_ belched out another devastating broadside, taking out another four vessels; two Cruisers and two Heavy Destroyers. Gunners engaged smaller craft as missiles were reloaded and fired, the crew in the hum of battle, hitting their groove. Everyone wanted in on the actions, and nobody was disappointed as the _Kili_ drove on, leaving debris fields and shattered hulls in its wake.

The SSV _Marco Polo_ , tailing the flagship, entered the engagement area with its own broadsides, a mere fraction of what the _Kili_ possessed. Having lost all its fighter craft and pilots defending the IVY Fleet from the Geth's initial strike, men and women fired anything and everything the _Polo_ possessed for those seventy-five brave pilots that daringly flew at Geth vessels in a desperate gamble to protect their brothers and sisters in Blue. Every one of them had died fighting back, and their ship-borne brethren were going to make it right by making sure that Hell would be fully populated with the scraps of their enemies as deck guns and missiles blossomed from both port and starboard, ensuring that everything that the _Kili_ struck was undeniably dead. One lucky LAM-C Gunner got a hit on a Patrol Frigates' main thruster, piercing its fuel lines and causing it to detonate a few seconds later, much to the commemoration of his fellow Gunners' Mates and his own Captain. It was his first vessel kill, and he vocally declared it wouldn't be his last.

When the _Kili_ fired its third broadside, the Cruisers were firing at longer-ranged targets, getting the smaller Geth spacecraft that were less affected by the nova blast of its Heavy Cruisers, the _Marseilles_ and the _Timbuktu_ built to be shipkillers, while the _Moscow_ -Class _Stratford_ engaged closer targets with its shorter-ranged munitions. The battlefield was getting clogged with the debris of Geth vessels, ships coming apart violently by explosions or disintegrations as the three Cruisers added their own violence to the fray. Missiles belched forth from the _York_ -Class Cruisers while the _Stratford_ pitched its bow while drifting in a diagonal to engage an equal-weight vessel with its main cannon, drilling a Geth Cruiser amidships and sending it reeling before the _Tim_ put a missile right into the very same hole and command detonated it right in the middle. The vessel was violently ripped in half, the aft section going catastrophically as its Heavy Helium ignited and turned that section of the ship into metal confetti, the bloom of fire washing over the tumbling bow and melting the armored plating and exposed decks. The _Strat_ didn't take any chances as it put a broadside into the wreck and shattered its remains.

The fourth broadside was executed as the _Kili_ flew into the very heart of the Geth formation; equidistant on all sides, surrounded by Geth that had yet to engage. There were a few survivors that hadn't gone with the MFOABs' result on the Heavy Cruisers, and the _Kili's_ Gunners helped themselves, correcting that mistake.

The IVY Fleet's Destroyers came into the fray with little for them to target save with their missiles. The _Hicks_ , _Doss_ , and _Lauchland_ make up for that deficiency by locking onto target any Destroyer-Class or better and unleashing their GUNGNIR Odin Spear's at a variety of distances, some of them taking as long as five seconds to put steel-on-target. Some of the targets were struck multiple times over a period of several seconds, and usually the last missiles were only further obliterating debris fields where the Geth once flew. They were righteous kills, confirmed on the spot.

The _Vimy_ , the _Langemarck_ , and the ailing _Ypres_ came in right behind the Destroyers, lasing everything that had already been shot and torn up, ensuring no survivors. Of the remaining vessels of the IVY Fleet, the three remaining _Hastings_ -Class Frigates were in the worst shape of all, barely held on together by emergency repair and emergency prayer. Yet not one man or women voiced concern in joining the drive as the Frigates proved themselves to be as much of a threat as their vessel predecessors of old; the Littoral Combat Ship of the 21st Century and the Sixth-Rate Frigate of the Napoleonic Era. GARDIANs spewed forth their infrared death at tumbling wrecks and shattered remains, causing more detonations of any potential survivors as one planned missile was leveled at lone Heavy Cruiser left in the field specifically for the _Ypres_ ; the same vessel that destroyed the _Francis Drake_ , and the wife of the _Ypres_ ' Commanding Officer. Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid stood aside for a brief moment as Commander Blaine Clark launched the missile himself, avenging his wife and the _Drakes'_ eleven-hundred member crew as the Heavy Cruiser, already damaged from the eruption from its sister Cruisers, took the missile right to the chin and blasted the bow in an implosion that reduced the entire mass of the vessel by a third. Three seconds later, the _Polo_ systematically avenged its sister and gored the vessel with everything available on its port side, rounds, lasers, missiles, and broadside reducing the last surviving Geth Heavy Cruiser into metal chunks that even LADAR couldn't pick up anymore.

Clark went back to his post after thanking his Gunnery Chief for the fine aim, and went back to commanding his crew, while the crew of the _Polo_ shouted _For The_ _Drake!_ in commemoration before going back to killing Geth.

The _Kili_ fired its sixth broadside, raining Depleted Uranium upon the Geth, its Commodore and XO working in tandem to keep the targets coming as its Command Staff stayed on top of their duties, keeping any issue the vessel had managed. The Dreadnought was rapidly overheating from the overclocked guns, and the Gunners were firing through their ammunition and energy supply at a prodigious rate. The thermalization panels on the vessel, some cracked and damaged, some not working at all, couldn't keep the vessel cooled enough; ignored by order of the Commodore. The Geth Fleet was unprepared for retaliation, and giving them time would only mean the death of the Fourth and the success of the Geths' objective. No one person in the IVY Fleet would let that come to pass. Two years stationed at an Alliance spaceyard refitting and retrofitting a Dreadnought was a much better option than letting the Geth get away with it all. Every Sailor wanted the Geth to pay, and they were going to do just that to the very _best_ of their abilities.

It was as once said in a movie a hundred and fifty years prior, only Men are brave. And the men and women of the Fourth proved it.

The _Ranger_ -Class Corvettes entered into the battle with a spray of missiles, three being launched from each of the five Corvettes, blasting two Destroyers on the far end of the Geth Fleet before even the _Kili_ reached that far ahead. They had been given the rearguard as targets, giving the little vessels something worthy to fight against after all the larger vessels had demolished everything in the front of the formation and gutted the Fleet like a wolf on a rabbit. The crews of the automobile-named vessels cheered at their own kills as missile pods were reloaded by Gunner's Mates and fired again, reigning destruction from afar while one vessel, the SSV _Barracuda_ , blasted a two-hundred year old song sharing the same name after a female-led band named Heart, much to the enjoyment of its crew. Its captain, a mere Lieutenant Commander, smiled viciously at the sight of her command enjoying themselves as they took down Geth like professionals, knowing that her men and women would remember this day for the rest of their lives.

Broadsides were fired as quickly as possible, missiles were launched as fast as they could be reloaded, LAM-C machine guns fired until the barrels were near melting, and GARDIAN Lasers with power supplies so exhausted they couldn't boil an egg continued to pillage the Geth with fury and wrath, not one Sailor ever thinking of letting up. The _Kili_ was near the end of the Geth Fleet as it delivered its eighth and final broadside, turning three Destroyers into shattered wrecks as GUNGNIR missiles streaked throughout space to detonate against unprotected hulls, vaporizing all that was inside. Geth ammunition cooked off as fuel went up catastrophically, vessels blowing to pieces in clouds of metal shards, the electronic death cries of the Geth only heard in the digital world. No mercy was ever asked for, suggested, or given as the IVY Fleet speared right through the heart of the Geth, and like a spear, pierced it fully and lethally. By the time the last _Ranger_ -Class Corvette had exited the Geth's former sphere of influence, there wasn't one Geth vessel left intact. Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele commented that one could fit the largest piece available 'into a bucket', the totality and overkill having been that complete. When the Fourth finally activated their bow-facing thrusters to slow their drive, meeting up on the far side of their enemies position and rejoining the _Normandy_ where it had stood sentinel from any vessel that dared to flee its well-deserved wrath, every man and woman on the Fourth now knew a feeling more intoxicating than any other.

Victory.

It only lasted two minutes when LADAR Technicians throughout the Fleet began to cry out of vessel acquisitions at a distance of an Astronomical Unit, heading towards the Fourth at Mark Nine, numbering twenty.

And at the very lead was a Geth Dreadnought.

* * *

" _Commodore! Multiple bogey signals coming in at one AU, moving at Mark Nine… on an intercept course!"_ The voice of Petty Officer (Third Class) Aubrey van de Mare rang out over the CIC of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , the cheers and celebrations going on upon the Bridge of the _Mighty Kili_ dying as the thought of the impossible accomplished died away. _"I'm reading two-zero bogeys… and a Dreadnought at the fore!"_ The Yeoman looked up from her station, her eyes wide enough to tell even through her visored helmet.

Jannie was afraid this was going to happen.

The Geth Fleet had been idle the whole time the Fourth had been nursing its wounds and repairing itself, and she had been wondering when reinforcements would arrive. She was pretty damn certain she was correct about the role of a Geth Dreadnought, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that the Geth would send _another_ one.

No doubt the Geth were getting a full view of what happened to the original fleet, and were likely a little peeved. If machines could get mad.

"All ships, cast away and return to Vegna! Now!" The Commodore called out as the _Kili's_ holographic display showed the incoming contacts and their Estimated Time of Arrival as nine minutes and forty seconds. That would be enough time to put the planet and the moon between the Fourth and the Geth, but now they had problems. Her shambled fleet had put everything in the effort to ravage the Geth, and fresh troops were now in the way. Twenty pristine Geth vessels being led by a Dreadnought were going to slaughter them out in open space. They needed time to formulate a plan now that they were out of MFOAB's. Fourteen vessels turned about to head back to the safety of the moon Vegna, including the SSV _Normandy_ , but Jannie saw two signals that weren't turning away.

The _Ypres_ and the _Langemarck_.

"Blaine! Greg! Get your vessels aweigh and get to port, on the double!" Shepard called out over her console after toggling the vessels in question, signaling them over the BattleNet. Their velocities indicated that they were drifting, moving at less than Mark One. That could really mean only one thing.

"Kili _Actual, it's_ Ypres _Actual."_ The voice of Commander Blaine Clark's voice came over the Alliance Secured Communications BattleNet, his tone… resigned. _"Spine's gone. We've lost all maneuverability."_ That announcement gutted Jannie on the spot; the ship was permanently dead-in-the-water now. The repairs they had made to fight the Geth had held on for as long as necessary, but the strain had taken the band-aid'ed wound and likely made it worse. The SSV _Ypres_ would be no more no matter what.

" _Captain! It's Specialist Zorah!"_ The Quarian's panicked voice came in over a din of klaxon alarms. _"We've got a coolant leak in the main line that I'm patching as we speak! I need five minutes to recharge the core… but no one on the Bridge is responding! I sent one of the Bosun's Mates to find out why!"_ The SSV _Langemarck_ was essentially dead in the water for the next ten to fifteen minutes. Minutes they didn't have.

"Rescue ops?" Jannie looked to Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, who merely shook his helmeted head, answering that question. With the Geth Fleet coming at them full flank, there wouldn't be enough time. Any ship that came to pull of the crew would likely be obliterated. Both her and Charles had stood and listened to Lieutenant Vanessa Steele propose to the _Ypres'_ Gunnery Chief over a SkypeLink, asking Ensign Novalee Reid to marry her. The redhead had cut the conversation short because there were more pressing issues at the time, but she had overheard the conversation. _"I'd rather mourn what I had than what I didn't do,"_ Vanessa had proclaimed, and Jannie knew exactly what the Lieutenant meant. Those men and women kept their ships together through hellacious conditions, and the ships were finally giving out, having given their all. Now a Geth Fleet being led by a Dreadnought was bearing down on them, and those crews were as good as dead. Normandiers who were off-duty had volunteered to board the _Ypres_ and the _Langemarck_ to help get the vessels aweigh after the destruction of the Geth Dreadnought, making Shepard proud of her crew who stepped up to help their fellow Sailors. But if those ships couldn't move, the approaching Fleet would obliterate them at its leisure.

 _Not. One. Fucking. More._

"Ensign Harbeck," the Commodore got the _Kili's_ CAP/Tactical Officer's attention, "have you ever done an aerial on a Trident?"

" _Yessss…"_ The pilot replied, his tone confused. There were no A-61 Trident Fighter Craft on the Dreadnought.

"I need you to take over the Helm and prepare to execute a gymnasts' aerial with the _Kili_."

The entirety of the CIC of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ went silent save for the very surprised ' _holy shit'_ from Senior Chief Petty Officer Raul Rodriguez as the Trident Pilot abandoned his station and _ran_ for the Helm towards the bow of the Bridge, swearing up a storm.

"XO? Full flank, intercept course, right down the throat of that Dreadnought." Humanity's First SPECTRE ordered as she looked from Pressley to Rodriguez. "I need one shot, so I need you to overclock every EM gate we got to beyond safety protocol, on my authority. Melt the fucking cannon if we have to." Jannie was already typing in the emergency safety override for the Dreadnoughts' power governor on its main gun; technically that was illegal by the Treaty of Farixen. Well, she was a Council Agent. "Ops? Draw power out of everything else save thrust, the main cannon, sensors, and the bow shield emitters. Rob and rape every Watt of power we've got to keep those shields going, Yeoman. Suck the juice out of datapads and your OmniTools if you have to." Petty Officer (Third Class) Aubrey van de Mare just nodded her helmeted head nervously. "Engineering!" Shepard called out over her Console. "I need you to de-atmo the entirety of the Orlop Deck and the Lower Gun Deck after evacuating it post-haste. Then I want you to flood the Aft Hold with all the air you just stole. Pressurize it as much as it can hold."

" _You're about to do what I think you're about to do?"_ Pressley responded first, sounding… amused. _"Thrusters and vent to launch us?"_

"When I say jump… I'm going to make the whole _Goddamn_ ship jump." Shepard replied, eliciting a ' _Madre de Dios'_ from Chief Rodriguez as he crossed himself.

" _ETA to intercept, four minutes and thirteen seconds at Mark Seven."_ The XO announced, his tone assured. _"Helm? Punch it."_

" _Punching."_ The voice of Ensign Jeff Harbeck came over the intercom, his tone cool under pressure as he piloted the Dreadnought, quickly accelerating the _Kili_ to full-flank. _"Want me to avoid incoming fire or take it on the chin?"_

"Avoid." The redhead replied, knowing that the Geth Dreadnought measured something over a kilometer in length, almost a fifty percent increase in length compared to the _Kili_. That meant it could accelerate its rounds at a faster speed, delivering more force. They would need to survive playing chicken with a Dreadnought in order for this rash plan to work. As far as Jannie was aware, no one had ever tried to even attempt to do what she was about to do with a Corvette, much less a three-quarters of a kilometer Dreadnought. She didn't doubt that the move would likely cause severe damage to the vessel, but looking at a Geth Fleet in the teeth, in perfect health and without any heavy weapons to back them up?

Nope, time to be unconventional and make shit up on the fly.

" _Commodore? Thirty seconds to full evac of Orlop and Lower Gun Decks."_ The _Kili's_ Chief of Engineering spoke through the intercom on Jannie's Console, following her orders without asking what or why. _"We're going to start to run in the red in about three minutes, ma'am. Recommend emergency hydro-dump into the system."_

"Denied. We'll need the power for the shields and the thrusters." Shepard clicked off the intercom, probably just leaving a Lieutenant Commander and Masters' in Engineering with a dropped jaw. "What's the time of impact and rate of fire for that Geth Dreadnought?"

" _Considering its about the same size and likely the weight of the_ Destiny Ascension _?"_ Charles had an answer for everything; God bless the man! _"Sixty-one hundred meters per second velocity, and twelves seconds per shot. I give it two light-minutes before they start firing."_ A light-minute was pretty standard for an opening salvo along with the effort to move forward and close distance where dodging and evading were near-impossible. And both ships were flying towards one another in a head-on collision, meaning that time would be essentially halved.

"Tab it and count it on the display, XO. Nav, keep us on target and aim right for their bow." The redhead told First Lieutenant Matthew Dawson, who was nodding nervously. Two clocks were running on the holographic image over the CIC; a Time-to-Target indicating when they would 'impact' the Geth vessel, and a Time-to-Impact indicating when its shots would reach the _Kili_. Timing would be everything. "All hands! This is Commodore Shepard." Jannie activated the 1MC, distributing a ship-wide announcement. "Geth reinforcements have arrived with twenty vessels being led by a Dreadnought.

"And we're taking that bitch out." The Lion reported.

"Everyone, lock and strap yourselves in, and prepare for a bumpy ride." The redhead toggled the 1MC off, ignoring a request call from Commander Mark Vanderloo, probably about to asked her what the hell she was thinking, taking the Geth on in a singular vessel that was running on its last legs.

" _Three and a half minutes."_ Pressley called out, his voice calm as the XO kept his attention to the task at hand while Jannie overheard vox's amongst the crew praying quietly; for victory or salvation, she couldn't say.

"Gunnery, keep an eye out for thermal signatures."Shepard reminded Senior Chief Rodriguez, who wordlessly nodded, the entirety of his focus on just that.

" _Three minutes."_

" _Commodore, this is Chief Engineer Samuels. Aft Hold pressurized at twelve atmos."_ The _Kili's_ Chief of Engineering reported over the intercom. _"Two and a half minutes until we're running in the red."_

"Noted." The redhead was already logging in her password for the emergency command safety override to emergency vent the Aft Hold through the Keel Cargo Bay door. One didn't just open doors in space with atmo and lives in it unless one were _very_ desperate or _very_ insane.

All things considered, Jannie was pretty sure she fit in the latter category.

" _Two minutes."_ Pressley called out.

" _They're firing!"_ Gunnery Chief Rodriguez shouted out, obviously detecting the thermal bloom of a main gun firing from the Dreadnought. With a vessel going at Mark Nine, and firing a sub-lum round already accelerated due to the vessel, it would only add to its speed and impact. Probably disastrously. _"Time to impact… thirty-eight seconds."_ Jannie did the calculations in her head; the Geth had the opportunity to fire ten shots before both vessels collided. Would they fire during the next twelve seconds, or would they wait to see what would happen when round and Dreadnought met?

Jannie noted that the CIC's holographic display noted that the _Normandy_ was providing assistance to the SSV _Ypres_ , no doubt on Mark's order. Good man.

" _Captain, it's Specialist Zorah."_ The Quarian came over the intercom, the Pilgrims' tone… subdued. _"Leak is patched and I'm recharging the core, but…"_ nineteen seconds to impact, _"one of the patches on the Bridge gave out during the drive. Bridge crew is gone, sucked into the void, Ancestors watch over them and guide them home. I don't exactly know who is in charge right now."_

Six Sailors had crewed that Bridge… one of them being the _Normandy's_ own First Lieutenant Gregory Roger Adams.

Thirteen seconds to round impact.

"Helm, prepare to juke port, and hold onto your gullets!" Shepard called out over the ships' 1MC, letting her crew know that they were going to be feeling very shitty in a few seconds. There hadn't been another salvo from the Dreadnought since the first round fired. The Geth were playing it safe.

Good.

Three seconds to impact.

"NOW!"

The entire ship shuttered as it was forced eighty-four meters to the port side, almost everyone being jerked starboard from the force. The overclocked docking thrusters burst from the output, three of the eighteen catching on fire as another seven went offline for various malfunctions. That would be the last maneuver to port they would do.

" _Minute twenty."_

" _Geth are firing again!"_ Rodriguez called out, a little less panicky this time. _"Twenty-one seconds."_ The Geth made a mistake, opening up as early as they did, Jannie thought cruelly. They needed to be closer. _Much_ closer.

"Helm, prepare to duck." Jannie announced to Ensign Harbeck before typing in a connection. "Specialist Zorah? Take command of the _Langemarck_ with whomever you have left, and get that Frigates' ass off the battlefield on the double, Misses. Get out and paddle if you have to." Shepard closed the connection after she heard the glum _Aye-Aye_ from Tali, no doubt the Quarian feeling horrible for the lost of crew aboard the ship; something more significant than even what Humans perceived, as Jannie understood it.

" _Third shot!"_ The Gunnery Chief called out, twelve seconds right after the second. Charles had nailed it on the button. The third shot was aimed right for them, and the Dreadnought was rapidly advancing towards them as the _Kili_ went full flank with the core going near-critical as they closed distance, intending to play chicken with a Dreadnought as they passed right by knife range and headed towards talon range.

Three seconds to round impact.

"DUCK!"

It was as if a giant had kicked them all in the ass. Hard. Everything loose went flying upwards as restraints were strained as the _Kilimanjaro_ dropped sixty-two meters, half of its dorsal docking thrusters quitting during the burn, and two rupturing, leaking Heavy Helium as the ship shook violently, metal groaning in protest throughout the Dreadnought.

The wake of the passing Dreadnought round was close enough that metal trembled and cavatated with its presence.

" _Jesus."_ Charles breathed out, taking a deep breath at the knowledge of the near-miss. The damn round probably missed them by meters… perhaps less. _"Fifty-seven seconds, ma'am."_

" _Third shots' following the second one. Automatic miss."_ Raul inputted, trying to wipe his helmeted brow but unable to do so. _"They haven't fired again."_

"They're bracketing us." Jannie replied, nodding her head. "They know we can't keep dodging, and they have the time." The rest of the Geth Fleet was more or less behind the Dreadnought, incapable of firing without damaging their lead ship, and unable to shift port or starboard fast enough to engage effectively, either slowing them down or not getting enough clearance. Likely, the Dreadnought figured it was enough to pulverize one little, battered Human Dreadnought. "Helm? One eighty barrel roll."

The _Kili_ shook from the strain, already having suffered two powerful thruster maneuvers that were damaging the ship to avoid taking a Geth Dreadnoughts' punch to the chin, and now rotating as to fly upon its back. The Geth might figure that the next maneuver would be to starboard.

" _They're firing."_ Raul gulped as a datapad fell to the ceiling of the Bridge, as well as a few other miscellaneous items that had been left unsecured. Sometimes the inertia dampeners helped with the feeling of vertigo, but this time the _Kili_ had turned them off, sacrificing their power for the main cannon. They literally had one shot, and they were going to make it count.

"Bet you it goes wide to starboard." Jannie's smile was hidden by her helmet, as she looked to Charles as the third shot passed them by on the same trajectory as the second; above them. The groan of metal as the concussive force of its passing was a little alarming, but the ship held together. It was almost as if the _Kili_ wanted this just as bad as its Commodore, holding it together just a little bit longer.

" _Time to impact, fifteen seconds."_ They were now in talon range.

"Helm, hold course." Jannie briefly wondered if the Geth were starting to panic now, seeing a Dreadnought barreling right towards them like the Hammer of the Gods. Their lead vessel certainly hadn't altered course, something the Level Three Council Agent was counting on; playing chicken against something that didn't feel fear. Why would the Geth need to divert course?

Why indeed?

" _Forty seconds_." Lieutenant Commander Pressley kept count, his voice as stoic as always. At just over a light-minute apart, the vessels were rapidly approaching one another at a force that would reach Mark Sixteen; one point six times the speed of light. Jannie didn't even know the statistical force that would cause other than it would shatter both ships and cause them to go core critical almost instantly and simultaneously. She doubted the Geth thought it would come to that.

Only Men were brave, after all.

" _Five seconds to impact."_ Rodriguez called out, whispering a prayer as the Dreadnought shot approached them at a speed of over six thousand meters per second as they themselves traveled at two hundred and ten thousand meters per second. _"C'mon, baby, you can do this…"_

The shot passed by without any need of maneuvering; it had gone wide to starboard, just as Jannie had predicted.

"Now they'll get sloppy."

" _Geth are firing! Ten seconds!"_ Rodriguez kept to his duty, his voice belying his emotions; he was afraid. Next to him, Petty Officer van de Mare whimpered loud enough to bleed through her helmets' vox as they began to approach fang range to a vessel approaching at Mark Nine while they themselves sped towards them at Mark Seven.

"Hold course!" This one might be a miss, this one might be in the chin. She was going to save those port thrusters for the very last, and leave the keel thrusters for the grand finale.

" _Thirty seconds and closing."_ The XO announced as the _Kili_ continued to rocket towards the enemy, never straying from its path other than to avoid being struck by the enemy's main cannon. In the game of chicken, it was the first one that flinched that generally lost.

" _Three seconds to impact!"_

"ALL HANDS! BRACE!"

…nothing.

" _The fuck? They missed? THEY MISSED!"_ First Lieutenant Matthew Dawson laughed out loud, slapping the Podium in front of him in glee. _"You bluffed the Geth! I'm never playing poker with you, Commodore!"_

" _Twenty-five seconds."_ Pressley kept count, his eyes on the displays of the CIC, his veteran eyes keeping tabs on everything. If they survived this, Jannie would fully recommend him for promotion and pin the silver oak leaf to his uniform herself.

"Gunnery? Clock our gun at one hundred and fifty percent." That was the absolute maximum the main cannon could fire, overpowering its electromagnetic gates, mass tunnel, and light catapult. It could only sustain it for a period of about thirty seconds before the cannon went supercritical and began to melt and fracture, rendering it inoperable. Yet overclocking it would effectively _double_ the force of their shot, equaling to a hundred kilotons of TNT; almost as powerful as a _Wyominix_ -Class Dreadnought. Firing a round through an overclocked canon would damage it enough that port would be needed to fix the damages. They would literally only have one shot at this, and one shot only.

And Jannie knew exactly where she was going to put that round.

"Helm, charge port thrusters, and prepare to juke on my command." Jannie's green eyes were only on the displays, the trigraphic holograms depicting the _Kilimanjaro_ as it approached the Geth Dreadnought, the scale growing smaller as the vessels got closer.

" _Fifteen seconds."_

"Fire at us, you son of a bitch!"

At thirteen seconds until vessel impact, the Geth Dreadnought did just that.

" _Three seconds to impact!"_ Rodriguez practically squeaked out as they fully entered into fang range of a Dreadnought; the point of no return. Shepard waited until the last possible second.

"HELM!"

Everything shifted to starboard… again. Hard. Crew members were jostled as the wake of the round passed within mere meters of the _Kilimanjaro_ as it drove forward hard, never slowing down or turning about. Thermal plating and hull were buckled and cracked from the near-proximity of the Dreadnoughts' fire, rippling along the starboard side as the Geth missed once more in the last shot the Dreadnought would ever take.

The synthetic race had made a critical error; it had tried to conventionally fight an unconventional warrior, it had tried to outguess an N.

" _Damn that pilot has nerves of titanium."_ Pressley replied with a deep breath. _"Ten seconds."_

"Harbeck…"

" _Nine…"_

"Ready Keel…

" _Eight…"_

"…thrusters. Gunnery…"

" _Seven…"_

"…lock target and…"

" _Six…"_

"…fire at my com…"

" _Five…"_

"…mand. ALL CREW…"

" _Four…"_

"…PREPARE FOR COM…"

" _Three…"_

"…BAT JUMP BADGE…"

" _Two…"_

"… _AND GODSPEED!"_

" _One…"_

"JUMP!"

* * *

Author's Note: IVY Fleet? Prepare for glory!

Who's sweating?

I mention that the Nelson Drive is where Lord Nelson basically charges a Fleet formation in a singular column. This isn't true all, and not at all what Nelson did. He, in fact, did the opposite; he split up his fleets so he could hit them at both sides, port and starboard, decimating them quickly.

"Space is big… really big." - Douglas E. Adams, _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_.

A fan of mine (SEVORIS!) reminded me of this little fact that weapons fire travels at a percent of the speed of light. Light hits Earth from the sun in 8 1/3 minutes. 813 minutes an AU is a _real_ long time (600 minutes is ten hours, so 13 hours and 33 minutes at 'max' range). So I invented distances that are close, closer, and 'the white of their eyes' close. This use to be very true in Blue Water Wood Navy, where ships use to bring about next to a vessel to destroy it, or in the Romans' case, physically ram them with the bowspirit. Ramming speed on a ship? Well, it worked for Picard, right?

If you feel the need to yell or beg about the next chapter, then my work here is satisfactory. I wonder if anyone in the FF'dom has anything like this? Not that I've seen. Some naval battles? Yes (cough cough, _LogicalPremise_ ). An entire chapter devoted to a singular battle, be it two drives? I don't know. Don't think so, but there's a ton of stories in here.I wanted to go with unique. Pretty sure I succeeded. Thanks to LogicalPremise and his wonderful series _Of Sheep And Battle Chicken_ for having actual Naval battles (which, I shouldn't be surprised out of a former Submariner). A lot of what I did here was inspired from his work and his service with the US Underwater Navy.

I promised you a real space fight. Now sign this POD order here and you can get your next chapter delivered right to your device.


	30. The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two, V

" _When the Lion said jump… the_ ship _jumped." -PO(2) Ryder, HM-3 SSV_ Normandy _, Battle of LaGrange Point Two +8, 2183_

 **The Last Flight of the SSV** _ **Kilimanjaro**_ **, July 7, 2183**

Author's Note: Hold on to your butts, kiddies. The finale is here. I promise that by the end of this chapter, you'll want to hug _and_ throttle me at the same time.

And with the publication of **Chapter 30** , I have broken a record of my own; this fic now has more reviews than my most popular work, _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope._ Which is ironic, considering what's coming next.

Keep Calm and N7 On!

* * *

Throughout Feros Space, the Alliance Secured Communications BattleNet, the Special Tasks Group monitoring probe, the Intrinsic Data Services monitoring device, and the ShadowNet connectivity relay all bore witness to what was later described as the _Last Flight of the Kili_. The videos, light captures, sensor packets, data readings, and the physical recording captured by the Helmsman of the SSV _Normandy_ all captured the event that was deemed impossible by modern military analysts, but proved otherwise. Millions watched _the event_ in the days that followed, bring awe to some, celebration to others, and a little dose of righteous fear to those that worried about ever meeting the Lion of Elysium in battle, either on the ground _or_ in space.

The SPECTRE Intelligence Bureau reported that the Primarch of Palaven himself, Gallinus Fedorsian, watched the video of the Last Flight of the _Kili_ in rapt awe. A report from a Level One Council Agent in the SPECTRE Command Bureau, one Kanus Hesperian, proved a telling fact. He watched the video the first time around with amusement, and then watched it a second time with a professional eye. Every video, light capture, sensor packet, data reading, and the physical camera recording. He made notes, he double-checked his work, and then he got permission from his supervisor to enter the vaults of the Council Archives to look up something. He came back three hours later with his mandibles slack and his slightly-ovaloid eyes wide as he proceeded to write a detailed report of his personal analysis of the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros), landing on the desk of the Commandant of the Office of Special Tactics, one Matriarch Lysanda T'mora, which then found its way into the hands of one Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Edward Anderson, Commanding Officer of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Section (STARS) Office of the Human Embassy. What he read had his jaw drop and exclaim loud enough for every member in the STARS Office to hear him say ' _THAT'S MY GIRL!'_ with a boastful laugh.

The SSV _Kilimanjaro_ was officially the most lethal singular Naval vessel in Citadel history with an accredited ninety-five kills to its name.

Hundreds of commands and thousands of pilots tried to enact the very same measures seen with the _Kili_ in the months and years to come; sniping a Fleet from around a planet, the singular vessel drive with electronically-simulated broadsides, and the finale that had everyone in awe at the absolute _insanity_ of a Human SPECTRE commanding a Dreadnought. Only four were able to successfully pull it off; a hotshot pilot in the Citadel Defense Fleet by the name of Lisana T'lesso, _Aviatix_ _Centurion Pilux_ Rapherion Javerinus (considered the best pilot in the Hierarchy), STG Agent Daepron Shupa (widely considered the best pilot in the entire galaxy), and Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau of the SSV _Normandy,_ the acknowledged best Human pilot. The Armax Arsenal Arena actually crafted a simulator and goaded others to test their piloting skills with the simulation of the _Last Flight of the Kili_ , offering a megaCredit to the sapient who could pull off the feat. It was a purse that remained unclaimed even in the depths of the Reaper War five years later.

Most failed the sniping portion, though a few dozen were able to accomplish it after several attempts. The Nelson Drive was completed by hundreds, but that wasn't the challenge that was sought.

It was the fact that, somehow, Humanity's First SPECTRE managed to somersault kick and perform a gymnasts' aerial a Dreadnought _over_ a passing Geth vessel with meters to spare, the bow of the _Kili_ practically scraping the paint off the passing Dreadnought before landing a shot right into its engine core, causing the Geth Dreadnought to go core critical several seconds later and explode as the rest of the trailing Fleet, going too fast and paralyzed by the loss of their main processing core, flew right into the oncoming wake of the exploding nova, taking the rest of the nineteen ships with it. It was an act of sheer luck and audacity that had nearly all who tried fail for a variety of reasons; timing, clearance, missing the shot, or getting obliterated long before getting close enough. Tens of thousands tried to replicate the feat but couldn't, from boastful Turians to even near-millennial Asari. It even became a mission in the newest installment of the franchise _Galaxy Of War_ , though dumbed down considerably and the finale a mere cutscene.

But what really got showcasted over the various media sources was the overwhelming support and approval of Humanity's First SPECTRE from her very own species.

* * *

If the act of flipping a Dreadnought like a gymnast over a passing vessel accelerating at ninety percent the speed of light held sapients in awe, then the demise of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ was held in equal amount of sorrow as the Human Dreadnought tore itself asunder.

The _Kilimanjaro_ -Class vessel had been built with many concepts shared throughout the galaxy in order to build a 'modern' Dreadnought to lead the Systems Alliance Navy and protect its peoples. Yet no one had ever designed such a large vessel with acrobatics in mind. When Commodore Jane Catherine Shepard ordered the vessel to jump, it catapulted itself nearly two hundred meters upward from the galactic plane, its aft section propelled even faster as the Aft Hold was blasted open as ballast to increase the projected arc trajectory in which the vessel would travel around a pivoting point _below_ the bow, flipping over the passing Geth Dreadnought like the weighted head of a pendulum. Unfortunately, the Dreadnought was never designed to take that much sheer force, pulling many times the force of gravity, causing undue strain amidships of the _Kili_. Already significantly damaged from the initial strike from the original Geth Fleet, the hull and the superstructure of the _Kilimanjaro_ had suffered near-crippling damage to its frame, joints and beams bent and twisted from the onslaught as multiple ruptures further damaged the internal structure. The _Kili_ would need a least a year or more in a spaceyard to retrofit it into patrol condition from the attack, no amount of emergency repair or jury-rigging able to compensate that the _Kili_ was a very broken ship on its last legs.

And then its Commodore went on the assault to finish off the enemy that had damn near murdered the entirety of the IVY Fleet.

The Dreadnought took extra damage in the drive, cavatations and vibrations further weakening the structure as the vessel went at full flank to assault the Geth Fleet as soon as possible after the SSV _Normandy_ delivered two Multi-stage Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery missiles into the Geth ranks, taking advantage of their destruction. Flying deep into the remnant of two supercritical core detonations, firing eight full broadsides, launching missiles, and surrounded by exploding Geth warships as it decimated the Fleet took its toll on the _Kili_ , the stress of battle further damaging the _Kilimanjaro_ as it roared victorious over its enemies.

And then there had been its final drive into the very teeth of another Geth Fleet.

To protect Fleet and crew, in service to her species, Commodore Jane Shepard had flown in intercept course against the new threat, buying her Fleet time to evacuate the area and get to safety, the remaining vessels of the Fourth Fleet in no condition to fight a twenty-vessel task force being led by a Dreadnought. Most of the Fourth were running wrecks with temperatures nearly in the red and ammunition heading into the black. Some wouldn't even survive an engagement against a smaller-Class vessel. Yet when two Frigates were stranded, unable to make good an escape, the Commodore had gone on the offensive with a plan that was beyond rash, and utterly devastating.

The _Kilimanjaro_ served its crew with audacity as it flew towards the approaching Geth Fleet, the bedraggled Dreadnought holding together long enough to deliver its final strike. The emergency evasive maneuvers performed with overclocked docking thrusters had twisted nearby infrastructures and damaged power conduits. Near-misses had vibrated the frame bad enough that some of the decks suffered buckling. The last dodge shot had rippled the _Kili's_ spine, the main beam slightly twisted and bent from the shock of the round that had missed the vessel by mere meters.

The final maneuver, the 'jump', was the _Kili's_ death knell, the final act that would destroy a vessel that would be admitted into Citadel history as the galaxy's most lethal ship.

The two hundred meter 'jump' snapped the _Kilimanjaro's_ spine, but the surrounding structure in the amidships held it together as the _Kili_ performed a controlled end-over-end maneuver known as _the somersault_ ; where aft would travel faster than bow, traveling in a pendulum arc until it ended up on its back, so to speak. The emergency venting from the Aft Hold had damaged it even further, causing decks to crumple and collapse as the rear of the vessel went _too_ fast, the inertia and gravity exacting its fundamental toll as it did with all things, already ripping the ship asunder as it flipped over the passing Geth Dreadnought that zoomed right under it in less than a second as the _Kili_ returned to the galactic plane, upside down and flying backwards, and fired its overcharged shot straight into the core of the enemy vessel.

The Geth Dreadnought went supercritical five seconds later. But by that time, the _Kili_ had already begun to break apart.

The Dreadnought continued to tumble into an end-over-end spin as the spine finally gave way, snapping the ship in half like a toothpick, too much velocity, torque, and sheer force applied to an already weakened structure as the ship folded upon itself. As the Geth Dreadnought detonated into a growing sphere of brilliant blue fire, going nova, the _Kili_ was still traveling in the opposing direction, the belly of the fore Orlop Deck meeting the belly of the aft Orlop Deck with a staggering amount of force as the ship continued to tumble through Feros Space folded in two. The already near-critical temperatures of its core was thankfully doused mere seconds before it reached runaway status by the Chief Engineer, sparing every soul on the vessel from instant death from a core-critical explosion, tens of thousands of liters dumped right into the core when Lieutenant Commander Michael Samuels hit the SCRAM button and saved the vessel from a catastrophic death.

The aft of the ship finally loosened itself from the fore as it continued to tumble faster than the front portion of the Dreadnought, and the _Kilimanjaro_ tore itself in half ten seconds after delivering the fatal strike to its Geth counterpart.

Commodore Shepard gave the order for all hands to abandon ship and make way for the lifepods as Sailors moved towards the nearest escape vehicle to their position, men and women helping one another in the tumbling Dreadnought as the infrastructure gave out from under them. The evacuation was completed in less than a minute as most had already be on standby with the final drive, knowing that either way, it would likely be the last. The last person to leave the Bridge was Humanity's First SPECTRE, authorizing transfer of all data from the Dreadnought over the BattleNet, to be collected by the remaining vessels of the Fourth Fleet. She touched the Pulpit of the Dreadnought, quoting the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas as she did before boarding the last remaining lifepod with the Bridge crew and evacuating the _Kilimanjaro_.

" _You did not go gentle into that good night."_

* * *

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **(IV FLT Flagship), LaGrange Point Four, Feros Space, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 9, 2183**

 _The Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros) +2_

Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Brian Kahoku stepped aboard the SSV _Normandy_ by disembarking the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel known as the _Rey Kenobi_ , piloted by (of all things) a Colonial Air Force maniac by the name of Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway. The flight from his vessel, the _York_ -Class _Havana_ Heavy Cruiser and flagship to the Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla, had been a bit of a choppy one thanks to the amount of ship debris now creating a piddling planetary ring with the aid of Feros' rotation and gravity. One hundred and sixty-five ships had been destroyed in the neighborhood of Feros, ranging from three Dreadnoughts to dozens of Frigates and Corvettes. While it wouldn't make a visible ring, it would be a concern for smaller craft if a piece decided to rocket in and smash itself against a hull. Pretty shitty way to die, in the Admiral's opinion; death by debris. Still, the Air Force pilot was doing her job, shuttling the Kodiak and its passengers safely. He had no idea what colony she had come from, but Brian knew that these days she was under orders for a Human Council Agent. Not a bad gig.

"Admiral." Brian's attention went to the man that was standing at attention in front of him and saluting him, the Admiral returning the gesture as the man's hand returned smartly.

"Ah, Captain Vanderloo." He knew of Commander Mark Vanderloo, identifying him by his rank and nametag on his Alliance Blues, though he had a pair of silver oak leaves on his shoulderboards instead of two silver parallel lines for that of a Captain. Technically, this man was the Captain of the SSV _Normandy_ while its nominal Captain was the Commodore for the remains of the Fourth Fleet, the fifteen remaining vessels having linked together in an impromptu conglomeration space platform that absolutely bristled with guns and missiles. Power, parts, munitions, water, and rations were being passed down and distributed from ships with plenty to ships without, the battered Fleet in dire need of extensive rest and refit. Yet until they were relieved, the Fourth stood sentinel over the planet of Feros, utterly ready to annihilate anything that dared to peg their asshole radar. Too tough to acknowledge their status, they still held the line. Brave men and women, one and all. "Take me to them."

"Aye aye, sir. Right this way." The _Normandy's_ Captain replied as he gestured for the Admiral to follow him as Brian walked through the Cargo Bay of the Alliance's only Stealth Frigate, his eyes on the many difference that he could see from its' sister rate, the _Hastings_ -Class Patrol Frigate. Normandiers and Sailors from the Fourth were hard at work in the Cargo Bay, some manufacturing or repairing parts for vessels in the Fourth, the Stealth Frigate having been converted into a mobile repair shop since it was the only vessel that was fully-staffed, undamaged, and had the most working parts. Its Captain and the Commodore had been ferrying Sailors from the Fourth to manufacture what they need, distributing stores, getting checked out medically, or to enjoy an hour away from the battered wrecks and painful memories of the vessels that had stood against the Geth and won… at such a terrible, terrible price. Thousands were dead and lost, twenty-two ships gone, and the surviving members and vessels would bear the scars forever. Yet they stood triumphant in what had to be one of the most lopsided battles in which the numerically-inferior force won a decisive victory, likening itself to that of the Battle of Agincourt. Victories against the Geth had usually come in the form of a small team led by an N7, but now a Fleet had stood against a foe over three times its size and had come out on top.

Both Admiral Kahoku and Commander Vanderloo entered the elevator that would take them to the Gun Deck where the people he needed to see were located, the contraption taking forever.

" _Captain. I have… oh!"_ Brian's attention turned to, of all things, a Quarian in a purple-and-charcoal gray EnviroSuit when the elevator doors opened, noting the Alliance patch that had been affixed to her suit, just in front of her right shoulder. Right next to it was the single silver bar denoting the rank of Lieutenant (junior grade). Ah, this was the Quarian Pilgrim who had captained an Alliance vessel during a time of war, performing rescue operations to save the crew of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ as well as that of the SSV _Ypres_. The Bridge crew had been sucked out when a piece of debris from battle had ripped open the top of the Bridge deck and vented the six-man Command Crew. A Quarian teenager had taken over and pulled two-hundred and thirty-two souls from the black by collecting lifepods from the _Kili_ , and then had somehow magnetized the dead-in-the-water _Ypres_ to the _Langemarck's_ keel and towed the ailing Frigate and crew to the rest of the Fourth at Mark One. _"Admiral!"_ The Quarian saluted him, though in a fashion more befit her people; she placed a three-fingered hand over her heart and tipped her head. Brian returned the gesture. _"I have the reports you requested, Captain Vanderloo."_ Lieutenant Zorah handed over a datapad to Commander Vanderloo, her hands beginning to dry-wash themselves as her silvery eyes darted over to him nervously from behind her lavender-tinted faceplate. As he understood it, Quarian Captains were held in near-deity status, and Admirals practically worshiped. Due to the loss of the _Normandy's_ Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Tali'Zorah nar… something-or-another was standing in as the Frigates' Officer-in-Charge of Engineering.

"Very good, Lieutenant." Mark replied gently, taking the datapad and slipping it under his armpit. "Sir, right this way." The Quarian touched her heart and tipped her scarf-covered head towards them once more as she stepped away while the Commander led the Admiral to port, where the MedBay was connected to the main Galley. It was currently populated with what looked to be close to a hundred members of the Alliance, and he noted that the cooks were serving a rather large lunch… fresh provisions at that. Damn, the Commodore was feeding the Fleet fresh-cooked food to the Sailors, transporting them to the _Normandy_ so they could enjoy a good home-cooked meal after such a bloody battle. There must have been a rotation of some kind so everyone could enjoy the gesture, and Brian briefly wondered how much food was left in store for the Fourth in its entirety.

The two men entered into the MedBay to find it fully occupied and in full operations, four Hospital Corpsmen (correction, _three_ Hospital Corpsmen and a Navy Corpsman) performing medical check-ups to more crew members of the various vessels of the Fourth Fleet, many of the MedBays and medical personnel having been lost or killed during battle. There were about a dozen Sailors getting check-ups and receiving menstruations when a young Corpsman turned to see who had arrived, and Admiral Kahoku immediately recognized the Angel of Illyeria, Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder. She was doing a follow-up on an Ensign, replacing a medical package on the man's thigh from whatever had bit into his flesh, nodding once in his direction as she returned to her job. Everyone in the MedBay was busy with the wounded, and Brian wasn't about to interrupt their tasks. Mark led him deeper into the MedBay as he approached the rear door of the Medical Department, tapped in an access code as the door slid open to reveal the medical store room that had been converted into an Intensive Care Unit.

Laying there on a medical bed was Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Mallory Singer. By her side (working on a portable terminal) was Commodore Jane Catherine Shepard.

"Brian." Hannah spoke as Jane looked up from the terminal on her lap, sitting by the bed of her mother, whose status was 'critical but stable' thanks to the surgery that saved her life. She had lost a kidney and part of her liver, as Brian understood it, not to mention all the damage that having a spar of metal impaled inside of ones' stomach could inflict. She would need a proper hospital and weeks, if not months, of recovery. But she would live. Both Singer and Shepard had been running Fourth Fleet from the _Normandy's_ ICU, mother teaching daughter while said daughter spent time with her estranged mother. Yes, he knew _of_ the story that had torn that family apart, but had never asked. Service had driven them apart, and strangely enough, it was war that was bringing them back together, at least temporarily. "Here to overthrow me?" The older woman's weak voice sounded amused as she chuckled slightly, looking weak in that bed. That wasn't the Hannah he remembered, having once served with her on the _Dublin_. In all honesty, she was a bit of a prickly bitch.

"We have a medical vessel that will transport you and the more seriously wounded back to the Arc for proper treatment and care." Admiral Kahoku replied, seeing Jane's mouth sour at the news. The Fourth was going to be reduced even worse, though thankfully for the right reasons. Still, even with only fifteen ships in its name, it was still horribly understaffed. "As for replacements and reinforcements, the Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla will be integrating itself with the Fourth, and I will be assuming command. I stuffed my ships full of Sailors, supplies, and provisions. I know we're going to need them."

"To think I was about to call up a tramp freighter to see if they would schedule a delivery." The younger woman said to her mother, making Hannah snort a little, grimacing slightly as a hand went to her medical robed-abdomen. "We certainly could use all the help we can get, Admiral. I think we're going to have to literally drag some of the wounded on that medical transport. I've got a Lieutenant Commander with an amputated arm that declared that the only way we'll pry him from his ship is in a body bag. He's got Enlisted practically as Department heads on his Destroyer, and I think he's too stubborn to beg off or die." The Admiral snorted a little, knowing the type. There were a few too ornery to give in. God bless them. "Will there be a relief-in-place, or just transfers?"

"The second one first, but the relief in place will happen." The loss of the Fourth as a fighting force was total; not one of those magnificent ships or its brave crew were in any shape to patrol or fight in battle. Some of the vessels were practically being repaired on an hourly basis to keep them from coming apart naturally. "The Tenth will fly CAP and Patrol while we plus up the crews, getting the more extensively wounded back to the Arc. The Board is putting two Battle Groups together to replace the Fourth for the time being, and they're bringing the _Enterprise_ in to lead."

"Holy shit." Jane said, looking shocked. Back during the Second Space Race of the mid-21st century, when Armstrong City had become Earth's first space colony on Luna, the agencies National Aerospace Administration, the European Space Agency, and the People's Space Authority worked together to build five vessels that were to represent Man's hopes and dreams for an age of exploration. Four of the vessels were to be named after Earth-famous war vessels; the HMS _Victory_ , the USS _Constitution_ , the INJ _Yamato_ , and the FDF _L'Orient_. Yet the style of the ships, and the name of its leader, had been voted upon by the people of Earth, and they had named it after the most famous _fictional_ ship in Human history.

The NCC-1701 _Enterprise_.

Five hulls were laid in space in faithful construction to the _Galaxy_ -Class vessels made famous in a television show, with saucer-like bridge and upper decks stemming from a cylindrical body and swooping thrusters that extended diagonally from the hull. It took three years for the vessels to be complete, and like the show that the _Enterprise_ hailed from, their mission was to explore as well as defend.

They were the oldest, and proudest, space vessels in Human history.

When the Systems Alliance was created in the wake of the discovery of the Mars Archives in 2148, thousands had already graced those five vessel in service and exploration, legions of astronauts, Naval personnel, and scientists having walked their decks and manned their positions. The newly-created Systems Alliance Military announced that _all_ Sailors, be it Enlisted or Officer, would serve those vessels as both a point of pride as well as a training course, the _Galaxy_ -Classes having hosted every Sailor that had gone to Boot Camp, serving for two weeks, while A-School training was conducted according to the length of time needed; Navy personnel getting their first taste of space duty on the most famous ships in Human history, both ancient and modern. For a period of two months during their Second Year and Fourth Year, Cadets of the Systems Alliance Military Academy served as Officers upon those ships, getting a taste of command and duty, leading personnel and responsible for their sections and departments. It wasn't uncommon to find a Sailor with a tattoo on their left bicep with one of those five illustrious names, declaring the Squadron they served upon. Though rated as Heavy Destroyers, the _Galaxy_ -Classes had been maintained and modernized to take on even Heavy Cruisers, employing _Human_ innovation on vessels without aligning itself to non-Human concepts, creating science and defense craft that could go toe-to-toe with vessels much heavier than they.

The last time any of them had left Sol System was… well, during the Theshaca Raids of 2178, the USS _Constitution_ putting missile-to-ass on pirate scum.

And now the NCC-1701 _Enterprise_ was here. Jane absently rubbed her left bicep under her Alliance Blues, where _Enterprise_ had been tattooed in a scroll, the very ship she had served as a Cadet back in '73 and '75, Kahoku knew. He himself bore the _L'Orient's_ name in the same fashion.

"I see Ines' hand in this." Hannah voiced from her bed, referring to the Commanding Officer of the SSV _Everest_ and First Fleet, Fleet Admiral (Upper Half) Ines Lindholm. "The _Enterprise_ has the most sophisticated laser technology to it, able to fire something like twelve GARDIAN-like lances of low-frequency ultraviolet beams at once. That thing was built to destroy." Well, that wasn't exactly true, but Brian knew that Admiral Singer wasn't wrong. Each of the five _Galaxy's_ were in direct violation of the Treaty of Farixen for a variety of reasons, but Humanity hadn't been willing to cave in to Council demands to decommission and put into compliance the very vessels that had been the leaders of hopes and dreams of space exploration. The First Emissary to the Citadel on behalf of the Systems Alliance and Earth, Anita Goyle, replied in no uncertain terms ' _molk'n labe_ ' at the thought, echoing the words of King Leonidas of Lakedaemon, Sparta three thousand years later when asked to laid down his arms to Xerxes. She then cited the same reason why the Batarian Hegemony was allowed to conduct illegal slavery in Council Space, claiming cultural heritage and used access to the Mars Archives as a bartering chip for the existence and survival of the _Galaxy's_. When Humanity had gained an Embassy in 2165, it had been Anita Goyle that had been selected as the Human Ambassador, the first of her kind, mostly because she didn't take shit from anybody; Human or otherwise.

The news that the _Enterprise_ herself would be at Feros would undoubtedly get attention amongst Mankind, something to soften the blow of the loss of a _Kilimanjaro_ -Class Dreadnought and so many lives defending a Human colony, to show people (Humans and others) that the Systems Alliance was not going to take recent events lying down. This marked the third colony attacked in just over a month, and fear was being replaced with _rage_ in the hearts and minds of Mankind. Prime Minister Dominic Osaba had put in no uncertain terms that certain Treaty conventions would be ignored since the Council of Law and Chamber of Governance of the Citadel had practically told Mankind to kiss their collective asses and offered no official help or support, having brought up a referendum of emergency spending for no less than _three_ Dreadnought hulls to be constructed at the same time.

Not one person in all of Earth Alliance Space was bitching about the tax hike or the cost. That was saying something.

"Your orders," Brian continued, looking to Hannah, "are to get healthy enough to resume command. We're laying Dreadnought hulls as we speak, and you are officially going to be in charge of the management of construction." Singers' eyes went wide on that. While not a combat command, it was just an illustrious a position. It meant that whenever the Dreadnoughts had been finished and ready to ship, she would be elected as the Commanding Officer of one of them. "As for you, Jane? You're to resume your original mission per the Fleet Admiral, the Prime Minister, and practically everyone else that wants to see the Geth annihilated. I'll assume command up here while you and your command take the fight to the Geth on the ground on Feros and deny them whatever objective they had planned. Seek, search, and destroy the enemy, and take possession or destroy the objective to deny it from enemy use."

"No issues there, Admiral. But I have one request." The redhead said.

"There's two things I need to do before I'm relieved of command."

* * *

One of Commodore Jane Catherine Shepard's last acts as the Commanding Officer of the IVY Fleet was a memorial service to the men and women whom had served under her.

In the Cargo Bay of the NCC-1701 _Enterprise_ , two members of every vessel of the Fourth Fleet were to attend in their Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniforms, while the Commodore herself presided in her Class Whites, complete with saber given to every N who passed the '7' course, and sash with the symbol of the Office of Special Tactics created for the event. It was videographed for every member who couldn't attend, recorded live and projected over the intercoms of every vessel in Feros Space, both of the IVY Fleet and the Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla. The service was recorded and sent over the ExtraNet, played by the Alliance News Network, and viewed at astounding numbers as the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE paid tribute to the lives and vessels lost saving a Human colony.

The End of Watch had begun.

A brass bell, fabricated from MetalGel, was struck eight times by a Master Chief Petty Officer, the highest-ranking Non-Commissioned Officer of the Fourth Fleet, signifying the beginning of the ceremony as one hundred members of the Systems Alliance stood in formation, being called to attention. With a clear voice that needed no amplification or microphone, the Commodore called out the names of the vessels lost, called out the number of crew who had served their commands. The tally was staggering as she reported the loss of twenty-two vessels and over ten thousand souls, brave men and women who lost their lives against the Geth. The losses were hard, and there was hardly a face that wasn't set in stone to keep a Sailor from breaking down from the news of so many lost, but they stood tall and bore the burden to commemorate their brothers and sisters, to remember them for whom they were and what they stood for as Commodore Shepard read off the last vessel, the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , and the number of crew that had perished protecting the Fleet against the initial Geth onslaught.

From the first ship destroyed, the _Hastings-_ Class Frigate SSV _Saint Julian_ all the way to the _Mighty Kili_ , the Commodore spoke their names and their crews. For every ship that was called, she held a roll-call; she called out five names if there were survivors, and three if their weren't, and always it would be an Enlisted Member, a Non-Commissioned Officer, and a Commissioned Officer for those never to be present again. For those that were present amongst those lost vessels, they accounted themselves present. For those that were lost, silence hung in the air; those missing from the ranks a mute witness to their lives. The effect was a powerful one, a tradition hundreds of years old, each name heralded in silence a heavy weight on the hearts of the survivors. Intermixed with the loss vessels were the ones that survived, yet no ship had escaped the butchers' bill. As strong as she was, even the Commodores' voice faltered slightly when she read the roll call of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , the name _Rear Admiral Kyle Singer_ hitching her throat slightly, that of her stepfather. It happened again with the SSV _Normandy_ , after calling out for _Petty Officer Sara Ryder_ (and the Corpsman calling out her presence), her voice wavered slightly when she spoke out _First Lieutenant Gregory Adams_ … and silence was the only reply, the _Normandy's_ Chief of Engineering having lost his life on the _Langemarck_ when a piece of debris struck a crude patch on the Bridge that had vented the original Command Crew, and claimed the second set as well.

When the roll call had finished, the brass bell was struck eight more times, and a moment of silence ensued _in memoriam_ of those no longer there.

"Today," The Lion spoke after the first service was complete, "I am reminded of _why_ I do what I do. There have been hard days, and there will be more hard days to come. There will be times where we will falter, where we will break, where we question ourselves. It is these moments that we look deep into ourselves and to our fellow Man to remind us once more why our duty in the military is called a _service_ ; it is we that provide the most precious of commodities in the galaxy;

"The future itself.

"We fight for tomorrow." The Commodore continued as she looked upon those that stood at attention in front of her. "We fight on the hopes that we can make a better one for us all, even at the cost of ourselves. We fight so that we may be free, to give that gift to what matters to us most; the ones we love.

"Aboard the _Normandy_ ," Shepard continued on, looking to the military audience in front of her, "I heard a promise given. When we were staring at nearly one hundred enemy vessels, that reminder of a future that I fight for was spoken by my Gunnery Chief who had said to the woman she loved that she would rather mourn what she had than what she didn't do.

"Today, I make good on that promise.

"Lieutenant Vanessa Steele and Ensign Novalee Reid? _Post_."

From the back of the formation came two women dressed in their Class Whites, moving around the formation starboard to stand in front of the Commodore side-by-side in the position of attention. It was easy to tell that the women were barely contained in their rigid positions, either through excitement or nervousness. Commander Mark Vanderloo stepped beside the Commodore to hand over a datapad, in which the redhead took, looking upon its words.

She commenced with her last act before handing over the Fourth Fleet to Rear Admiral Brian Kahoku.

"Dearly beloved," she began,

"We gather here today in celebration of union between Vanessa Bethany Steele and Novalee Yasmine Reid. Today, they join their lives together in front of Man and God, to avow themselves to one another in matrimony. Let us witness this union, and if any person be in question against this union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace." Not a word was spoken, mostly because there was a SPECTRE glaring at the audience, almost daring them to.

"Do you, Vanessa Bethany Steele, take this woman, Novalee Yasmine Reid, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do." Lieutenant Steele said, her voice a little on the weak side, but not at all unsure.

"Do you, Novalee Yasmine Reid, take this woman, Vanessa Bethany Steele, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do!" The Ensign was trying to bat away tears while blushing.

"Then by the authority invested in me by the Council of Law, I pronounce you legally married under the vows of matrimony." The Commodore smiled, a smirk growing on her face. "The brides can start kissing." There was a great deal of applause (and more than a few manly whoops in the audience) as the two women sealed the pact with a somewhat-chaste kiss (a few groaned when it ended). Vanessa was laughing as she took her blushing bride in her arms, Novalee both laughing and crying, and everyone in the Cargo Bay of the NCC-1701 _Enterprise_ applauded the union.

* * *

Seaman Monica Valerie Negulesco was wiping down one of the Autoclaves in the SSV _Normandy's_ MedBay when Chief Petty Officer Sara Ryder entered into the department, a smile a parsec wide on her face as her blue eyes zeroed in on the young Hospital Corpsman. Monica was somewhat reminded of _the incident_ the day before that had been finalized yesterday. The _Normandy_ had been an acting medical ship for the many injured members of the IVY Fleet, having the most medical stock and the best equipment for the injured. Commander Karin Chakwas had done several emergency surgeries to bring injured Sailors to critical but stable condition while Doc Ryder, a Surgeons' Aide, had done some of the lesser surgeries, a field hospital fabricated right in the Cargo Bay with the help of the Marines and several of the Sailors on the _Normandy_. Several others had pitched in to help those in need; Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams and Federal Marshal Samantha Collins were doing prelim check-ups and basic vitals for incoming, basic triage for wounded Sailors, while Negulesco, Able Seamans Helen Lowe and Linda Basheer used their more advanced medical knowledge and training to care for those who were wounded but able to return to duty with the aid of splints, sutures, and medications. Even the big scary Turian Sniper, Detective Garrus Vakarian, was helping out, as was the super smart Salarian female, Agent Zevin Raeka, though both professed to knowing little of Human anatomy. Yet they had pitched in, bringing supplies, grabbing equipment, monitoring vitals, and easing the burden of the swamped _Normandy_ medical staff.

But then _the incident_ occurred.

Somewhere in between Commander Chakwas' seventh and eighth surgery, sadly an amputation, Chief Ryder had popped in after pulling a piece of metal from a Sailors' arm and suturing it closed to check up on the field hospital and its staff, doing her rounds. Chief was in her element, keeping calm, a smile always on her face, encouraging words to the Sailors and to her subordinates (and helpers), the Angel of Illyeria proving herself once more her well-known nickname. More than a few Sailors had been awed at the fact that none other than the Angel herself was caring for them. Chief had walked into the pre-fab tent to see Monica giving pills and instructions to a Sailor with cracked ribs, Helen popping a shoulder back into place… and Able Seaman Linda Basheer sitting on a stool in front of a terminal, not at one of the pre-fab beds with a Sailor on it. There had literally been _dozens_ of patients waiting to be seen, and the Hospital Corpsman was not doing her job.

Chief didn't say a word. The unspoken bomb that was about to plummet had everyone go silent as the Petty Officer _strode_ to the unsuspecting woman, grabbed her by the ear, and _hauled_ her out. For five minutes, everyone pretended that they were struck deaf at Chief Ryder literally _screaming_ at Seaman Basheer from inside the elevator, despite the doors being closed. Sergeant Williams had popped over from the Routine side (as the Hospital Corpsmen had the Priority side while the Commander and Chief had the Urgent and Urgent-Surgical side) to check in to see if anyone needed anything, and casually commented _Doc could give an Army Drill Sergeant a run for his money_. Everyone could hear what Chief Ryder was saying; muted, but word-for-word. Phrases like _dereliction of duty_ and _failure to adapt_ had been said, along with the not-so-magical terms _Captain's Mast_ and _recommendation for Court-Marshal_.

Atoms colliding were louder than the inside of the field hospital.

Both women had returned to the tent, and Basheer looked as meek as anyone Monica had ever seen in her life. Chief just walked back to the Urgent side and saw the next patient, and absolutely no one said a word as Able Seaman Linda Basheer walked in a daze to a corner of the field hospital and burst into tears. Mostly, no one looked at her, but a few who glanced in her direction looked at her with absolute disgust. Negulesco had seen four times as many Sailors as Basheer had. And not because they were the simple ones, either.

Captain's Mast had indeed happened yesterday. And it had been approved. Dereliction of Duty during a time of war was a Dishonorable Discharge, and the Lion of Elysium had signed off on it. Seaman Brad Switzer, the Ships' Steward, had overheard the dressing down after cleaning up after the Captain's meal with her Officers in the Ward Room. Ship scuttlebutt claimed the Lion had Depth Charge'd the Hospital Corpsman right in her Ready Room in a grand total time of two minutes; an Article 92 of the UCMJ.

Able Seaman Linda Basheer had been shipped out with the injured back to the Arc. She was already gone.

Not that Monica had any real tears for her fellow Corpsman; not at all! Basheer had been a prig and the b-word, full-blown and full-time. She had always been slacking in her duties, doing a half-ass job when she did, and seemed to frump whenever she was told (really, reminded) to do something. Negulesco knew what the Marines called her; _PEZ Dispenser_ , good enough to hand out pills. That was all Linda was aiming to be; mediocre. The Seaman knew what had prompted Chief Ryder to recommend the Court-Marshal; it had been building for weeks. Able Seaman Helen Lowe wanted to be a Nuclear Medicine Technician for her C-rate, and Chief had pulled up the courses and classes through the ENavyU System for her to learn and test herself, the Petty Officer reviewing her work and pointing out where she needed to re-read the material. When Chief had asked ' _Nugee_ ' what she thought about for her own personal rate-identifier when first coming aboard the _Normandy_ despite only being an E-2, Monica had blushed and told the Angel why she had joined the Navy.

She wanted to be a Navy Corpsman.

"Nugee? Come take a walk with me." Chief Ryder said as Negulesco looked over to Lowe, who jerked her head towards Chief Ryder with a _what are you waiting for?_ look. It seemed that her fellow HM-8401 was beaming about something as the Seaman followed the rated HM-8404 out of the MedBay, Commander Karin Chakwas giving her a smile as well. What the heck was going on? Monica followed the Chief as they went to the cargo elevator, Sara pressing the access button to activate the doors before gesturing Negulesco in. Monica was nervous; had she done something wrong? The elevator went up from the Gun Deck to the Quarterdeck where the Chief continued on to the CeePo Room, where Non-Coms usually dressed down their subordinates when they did something wrong, or did their bi-annual fitness reports. It was nowhere near the time of the Corpsman to have her bi-annual, and the nervousness went up a good factor as Chief Ryder pressed her hand on the access panel to the Chief Petty Officers' Ward Room, the Seaman noting that a timeblock had been scheduled for Chief Ryder. _This is it! I'm fragged!_ Monica tried not to cry, remembering what happened to Linda. She thought she was doing so well!

"Take a seat, Monica." Chief gestured towards the chair available in front of the CeePo desk with a smile, and her tone was friendly, even casual. That helped a little as Negulesco did as she was asked, still feeling as if there was a kinetic strike about to hit her head. "Seaman? Your Lateral Transfer Orders." The Petty Officer plucked the datapad that was on the desk and handed it to her as Chief Ryder smiled. _Lateral Transfer_ meant Monica was being moved from the MedBay… but where else could she go on the _Normandy_ being a Hospital Corpsman? She looked to the datapad, saw the official letter head as her eyes trailed down the datawork to midway down the electronic page where the meat of the information was.

TO: PO(2) Ryder, S.

FROM: CPT Shepard, J.

RE: SMN Negulesco, M.

As of 09 JUL 2183, per APPROVAL of CPT Shepard, J (CO, NORMANDY), SMN Negulesco, M. (HM-8401) is approved for LATERAL TRANSFER to NORMANDY GROUND OPERATIONS ('TEAM LION') as secondary Naval Corpsman. Pending review and approval by SUPERVISOR (PO(2) Ryder, S.) and OFFICER-IN-CHARGE (CMDR Chakwas, K., MD) conducted no later than 180-day of TRANSFER, approval of proper school training (FLEET MEDICAL TRAINING BATTALION) will commence.

Signed,

Jane Catherine Shepard (NORMANDY, Commanding)

Monica stared at the datapad. _Hard._

"I'm… I'm going to be a Navy Corpsman?" Negulesco practically squeaked, her heart beating so fast that she thought it was going to burst. This… this was what she wanted! But to do it for _TEAM LION_? That was beyond anything she could ever imagine! "C-Chief? I want this, but… I've never served groundside." She wasn't being attached to a Marine unit doing training maneuvers, some range on a chunk of rock in space, or some VBSS mission. This was TEAM LION! Quite possibly the most lethal team in Human history! Many were practically pinnacles of their professions _before_ joining Humanity's First SPECTRE and becoming something even greater! "I've never worked on a non-Human before." That was admitted with a good deal of guilt, Monica knowing where Chief Ryder had gotten her experience; being a Paramedic for the CitEMS.

"Which is why you're going to be the _Human_ Corpsman for the time being." Chief replied with a smile. "I'm glad you're brave enough to admit that you aren't perfect, that you have the mentality to say that you have flaws. That's a good thing, Monica. It's my job to teach you, to train you, to help you grow and one day perhaps take over my job. If I wasn't doing that, I would be the failure, not you. I'll stick to the non-Humans as that would require a few years of extra training, but I'll go over the basics with you; check-ups, combat life-saving techniques, classes on differences and recognition. But for now, I'm going to train you on how to be a better Corpsman; a _Navy_ Corpsman. I got to where I am by joining a team of Marines, pushing myself forward. I'm going to to do a little better by you by giving you the opportunity.

"Want in?"

Monica didn't even bother picking up her jaw that just hit the deck.

 _I could be working RIGHT next to the LION!_ The eighteen year old woman thought, her heart skipping a few beats. Captain Jane Shepard was a living legend, though Negulesco never really had an opportunity to see much of her; she was only an E-2, after all. _The Butcher, the Angel, and the Lone Wolf, too!_ The _Normandy_ was filled with heroes, and none so more than its ground forces, known as TEAM LION. Four times they had stood against the Geth, and four times they had stood victorious, in varying numbers. But Monica knew that it hadn't been bloodless; the had lost a Marine and a SPECTRE on Eden Prime, a Marine platoon massacred on Therum, and every soul on the ACV _Horizon_ , as well as another Marine. And then there had been the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros), (as they were calling it), where more than half of Fourth Fleet had been lost, dang near two-thirds of the personnel dead and half of the survivors wounded in some way. She was literally in the middle of a _very_ deadly fray. Now Chief was asking _her_ to take another step forward, to throw her into battle personally, where rounds and explosions would be happening.

 _Those Sailors on those ships on the Fourth hadn't been any safer in space_ , Negulesco realized, remembering what Chief Ryder has said to here when they were battened down, waiting to approach Feros while in REDCON TWO. She had complained about being shot in a tin can in space, unable to do anything. Was being out in the open being shot at any better? But she remembered the wounded Sailors, those men and women who had suffered such horrific loses. Ships had gone catastrophic, others crumpling from a fuselage of fire, hulls torn asunder to vent crew as they served the decks and their fellow Man. They had served to the best of their abilities, their contributions known. Their efforts had saved their vessels or others, and all of them had protected a colony from the Geth. The losses were devastating, but their efforts recognized. She thought of Able Seaman Linda Basheer, now being taken to the Arc for a Court-Marshal hearing, the woman having aimed to be mediocre and not even achieving that. Linda had no ambition, no drive. Now, she had no job.

 _Can I be a hero?_

Monica remembered those Sailors in the field hospital in the Cargo Bay, patching them up, healing their injuries and addressing their concerns. _They_ were heroes, but it wasn't as if someone had come by and _asked_ them. They had done their job, and then done more than that when others would have faltered. When the battle was done, Monica had been there for them, and heroes had _thanked_ her, thanked her for taking care of them; showing the same devotion they had. Negulesco had cared for nine dozen patients in a day, never stopping. Despite how sore she was, how tired she was, how much she ached, she knew the Sailors had it worse. So she kept going.

Chief had seen it, had recognized it. Given the opportunity to achieve, Monica had succeeded, and now she was being rewarded with what she wanted.

And with that, Seaman Monica Negulesco gave her answer, making Chief smile as she extended her hand to shake, congratulating her. In a time of war, Humanity needed its heroes.

And heroes needed their Corpsmen.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder escorted Seaman Monica Negulesco from the elevator as they reached the Orlop Deck, walking into the Cargo Bay where most of TEAM LION performed their daily duties and routines. Nugee was following right behind her as Sara walked down the length of the Cargo Bay, waving to Urdnot Wrex as he squat-pressed what appeared to be a two hundred kilogram weight on his shoulders, the big game hunters staying at peak performance as she observed Niki'Raan nar Tombay doing vertical sit-ups from the pull-up bar; her two-toed feet wrapped around the bar as the Pilgrim went _reilk-_ to-toes, completing an one-hundred and eighty degree sit-up. Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss were stripped to the waist, practicing MCMAP as Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard referee'ed the match. Detective Garrus Vakarian was going over the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle, running a diagnostic and systems check on the weapon systems with Private First Class Oblong 'the Kenyan' Ubantu, while Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway was going over maintenance over her bird, the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel, with brevet-Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, the Quarian now officially holding an Alliance rank due to her actions and heroism aboard the SSV _Langemarck_ , captaining a vessel in a time of war and rescuing stranded crew. Many nodded to Sara as she passed or called out 'Doc' as Monica followed obediently as Sara led her to the aft port side of the Cargo Bay, where the Armory and its Officer-in-Charge was located.

"Doc, see you got yourself a shadow." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams said as she smiled, in the middle disassembling an Elkoss Combine M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle. "Is Robin going to need a new look?" Williams' brown eyes darted over to the younger Corpsman before looking back to Sara. Ugh, a _Batman_ reference.

"Did the Army teach you all your bad jokes, or did you come up with that one on your own, Ash?" Ryder quipped, making Army snort as Negulesco looked a little embarrassed at the sight of an E-5 teasing an E-7 and not getting called out on it. Not to mention being on a first name basis; super taboo in the Navy. Nugee would learn.

"Har har har, Navy." Williams rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. "So, someone's going to need some combat equipment? Let's see what ole Sarge has got for you, Doc." Ash went under a weapons diagnostic table and pulled out a TuffBox that was labeled with its contents, claiming to be from the Arc. "Brought up a few ideas to the Skipper for spare armor for various ideas and locations; couldn't hurt to be prepared. Ordered several sets for everyone for replacement parts and a few scenarios to be on the safe side, and I got this one by accident." The Sergeant undid the PlastiGel toggles and opened up the lid to show the pieces of the armor packed into styrocell foam for protection.

Sara knew what it was; Kassa Fabrications' HyperGuardian Medium Expeditionary Armor.

Based of the Colossus line of armor, HyperGuardian was crafted with survivability in mind. With reforged tempered ceramic plating for better damage protection, duel-battery kinetic shielding, and a personnel monitoring suite to deliver extra power to movement and actions when needed, the HyperGuardian Expeditionary Armor was one of the best top-of-the-line armors in the galaxy, with a price tag to compensate for that claim. Amongst the elite armors in the galaxy made by a major manufacture, it was best noted for its ability to aid its wearers' survivability in most hostile conditions as well as dangerous situations. While not specifically geared for war, a few tweaks and modifications by the SCI/TECH team could easily rectify any issues.

"Is… that to be mine?" Monica gulped a little, looking at armor that was well over seventy kiloCredits in price for a baseline model. Sara doubted the armor had just been 'accidentally' dropped on Ash's lap.

"This will get you through just about the worst anyone can reasonably conceive, and I threw in a few goodies for you too when Doc here told me you got approve for ground missions." Williams seemed a little amused to see Nugee blush. "Hey, kid. Feels good to have a team looking out for you, doesn't it?"

"Y-yes, Sergeant." The Corpsman stammered a little, obviously embarrassed. "But I want to do good!"

"No worries, I'm sure you'll find a thousand ways to pay us back!" Army laughed it off as she went back under the table and pulled out a couple of more boxes, setting them on top of the tables' surfaces. "I had this Medic…" Ash spoke, not looking to either of the Corpsman, just staring ahead. "Shane. He was a Corporal and an Army Medic back in the EPCA. Use to hand us moleskin if it hurt below the waist, ibuprofen if it hurt above the waist, and then tell us to carve the grass out of our vaginas and get back to it." Williams looked over to Sara and Monica, smiling a smile that didn't touch her brown eyes. "Hardest thing he'd ever done before June Sixth was to hand out pills. The day the Geth came? Doc McAllister pulled five wounded from the line of fire, putting himself in danger to rescue Soldiers. Died pulling out the last man, shot too many times… but he only died _after_ Bhatia was pulled behind cover. While… while they all died… Shane went above-and-beyond for his fellow Soldiers, for his brothers and sisters. _Never_ gave in despite the numbers and amount of fire. I'd have been hard-pressed to think of a braver being up until two days ago, when we fought in LaGrange Two. To think that we in the Army use to tease the shit out of the Navy for skulking in black, playing peeping tom on colonies." Ash just slowly shook her head. "Had it all wrong. It's not where you serve or when you serve, but _how_ you serve."

"Amen." Sara replied, in complete agreement. Monica was nodding right next to her. That was something that Linda Basheer just didn't get.

"So I'm going to give you guns. _Really_ good guns." Williams continued, the Lone Wolf looking at 'Doc' Negulesco. "Because the day will come when you need to make a stand over the body of a friend, to pull them back into cover while killing the enemy. I'll give you the means and the tools, but how it's done, Doc? That's on you."

"Aye aye, Sergeant." There was no nervousness in Monica's voice as her hazel eyes looked to the boxes in question. "I haven't shot anything since Boot."

"Thankfully, we have ranges." Sara replied with a smile. "Which Army here will help set up and we'll go over the basic drills with you for our deployment tomorrow."

"T-tomorrow?"

"Geth are in Feros, numbers unknown." The Sergeant informed Negulesco. "A thousand colonists and five hundred Marines are all that stand between the Geth and their objective. Skippers' giving them an eviction notice the size of a tank, and we're going to either kill them all, deny them their prize, or destroy it." Williams opened up the first small TuffBox, and Sara saw that, laying inside the styrocell foam was a Kassa Fabrications' M-6 Carnifax Magnum Pistol.

"Welcome to the Slag, Doc."

* * *

 **FINE: ARC VI: The Battle Of LaGrange Point Two (Feros)**

* * *

 _ARC VII: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope_

 **North Storm Wall Defensive Position, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 7, 2183**

Lance Corporal Alicia Siegel manned her position alongside her squad leader, Corporal Wanjohi Owusu, both of their Hahne-Keder's M7 Lancer Assault Rifles trained to the north, where the crags and dikes made approaching the colony of Hadley's Hope not only possible, but able to reach within a hundred meters of the location without being spotted. The colony itself, a collection of pre-fabricated buildings and colony starter packages assembled in a cleared area that only needed minor leveling efforts, had been slapped together with the colonists told to make do. Alicia looked behind her over said colony, seeing the twenty-two buildings of various shapes and sizes connected together by skywalks and covered hallways, dominated by the 'main' boulevard that ran in between the buildings that stood either westward or eastward of the road. To her left was the landing pad where shuttles and small ships came and went, either to ferry off goods, bring in equipment and supplies, or bring more luckless bastards to this shithole colony.

The Earth-born Marine Infantryman wasn't impressed in the least.

Hadley's Hope was one of the original colonies first developed when Humanity discovered Feros in 2176, dropping a quick colonial effort into a decent spot that was situated near a series of Rare Earth mines, a gargantuan Prothean complex, and a natural geothermal vent. The environment was barely suitable for Human habitation, so one of the bigger corporation conglomerates, ExoGeni, 'donated' an atmospheric processing plant to cap off the geothermal vent, providing not only power, but the ability to actually breath without the need of a suit or a respirator unit. The effect was only good for about a few or so kilometers before one found themselves gasping for oxygen, but Hadley's Hope was located in the shadow of the processor.

For some reason, the Geth were really interested in either the colony or the processing plant.

"Anything on the motion sensors, Blondie?"

Alicia merely rolled her eyes at her nickname, identifying her most obvious feature; hair the color of wheat. Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Kyle Singer (IV FLEET) had deployed Fourth Fleets entire contingency of Marines to the planet for a couple of obvious reasons. One, to get the Marines off the boats. Two, to protect the colony in case there was a Geth attack. And three, to get the Marines off the boats. Sitting crammed in a Navy ship for weeks or months wasn't fun, and sitting in a defensive posture without the hopes of a little training exercise to break the monotony was _boring_. There was only so many times one could stand post with a Hahne-Keder M500 Storm Shotgun in ones' hand, looking at EID's and watching Sailors pretend to work before that shotgun began to look a little too friendly. The IVY Fleet had been near completion of their tour of duty when Eden Prime happened the previous month, having almost finished a seven-month voyage that encompassed most of Earth Alliance Space. No one was exactly thrilled with the deployment extension, though the news coming from both Eden Prime and Therum had everyone taking the threat seriously.

Which is why the five hundred man battalion of Systems Alliance Marine Corps decided to boobytrap the _shit_ out of the colony.

"Nada, Corporal." Siegel replied, looking at the dum-dum version of a motion detector. It was basically a light-shift diode sensor that relied on physical detection and not electronic. It also sent any alerts through an actual physical hardwire instead of being sent back through Li-Fi. That meant it couldn't be interfered with or hacked by the Geth. It had been Captain Mark Meer's idea to make as many 'Pre-Tech' concepts where something couldn't be interfered with electronically when Marines turned every piece of real estate outside the storm walls of Hadley's Hope into a fucking candyland of boobytraps, explosives, and other fun-filled devices. Alicia wasn't even sure if anti- _personnel_ mines would work on the Geth, but there were about a thousand or so of them out there ready to blow up based on seismic tremors. The motion sensor detection unit was placed two hundred meters ahead, in a gully where the crags would hide an enemy force on approach. There was no good way to dig in out in the Basalt Flats just north of the colony, with its razor-sharp volcanic glass and brittle sinkholes. They had almost lost Marines trying to explore it when the colonists of Hadley's Hope told them it was retarded.

Only a few hours ago, message had been sent that the Geth were in the Theseus System before they had started shooting the _shit_ out of Fourth Fleet.

For the past two hours or so, shuttles and ships of unknown design and manufacture had been landing north of the colony, perhaps ten or so kilometers out. Hadley's Hope possessed exactly _one_ GARDIAN Infrared Anti-Vessel System, with the inclusion of several UA-571-C 'Zeus' Automated Sentry Turrets that had been welded to aim upward as a poor man's anti-aircraft weapons system. Sadly, the Gateway Terminal of Hadley's Hope was as cheap as cheap could be, and was programmed only to defend the airspace above the colony within a ten klick perimeter. The Geth were landing well outside that envelope, and would be approaching by the ground route.

Right into the loving arms of five hundred Marines. And their explosive candy traps.

"Heya, Corporal Double-Dick? I gotta weird question." Corporal Owusu looked to the Lancie as Lance Corporal Alicia Siegel brought something up that had been nagging her for a few minutes, brushing her exposed blonde hair back over her exposed left ear as she used his nickname; it was based upon confirmed anatomical proportions, quality-related, not quantity. She took a deep breath before asking her question.

"Does the air smell… _moldy_ to you?"

* * *

Author's Note: Welcome to beautiful Hadley's Hope! The party's mostly at night! …mostly. Be sure to visit the gift shop for its commemorative _eggs_!

Welcome to the Siege. Loosely based upon my most popular work, _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege of Hadley's Hope_. But now it's on Feros. And this will be centered around the town of Hadley's Hope from _Aliens_. Last time I was there, I nuked it with a nuclear reactor killcode. Only way to be sure, after all.

I never thought I'd ever say this… but thanks to the game Aliens: Colonial Marines for their maps and details about everyone's favorite bug-infested shithole. I guess it did have a redeeming value. Because I plopped the actual dimensions and whatnot of Hadley's Hope right over Zhu's Hope.

The ode of the _Kili_ being the most lethal vessel in history is to the CV-6 USS _Enterprise_ , the most decorated ship in World War Two (twenty battle stars and one of three surviving Aircraft carriers of its Class, several of its sisters taken down by kamikaze and subs). It was present during Pearl Harbor, crewed and defending Hawaii, and present during Okinawa, the last major engagement of WWII. Many vessels in several Navies (US, UK, AUS, CAN, and I believe both the French and German Navies as well) have borne the name _Enterprise_ , and many vessels in a particular Navy has had a vessel bear this name. It is likely the _most decorated vessel name in history_ , as many of its bearers have gone on to fight in some of the deadliest battles in history in World Wars One and Two, as well as being present during the War of 1812 (both for the English and the US), the Napoleonic Era, and the American Revolution. Nine US vessels have sailed under this name, and another ten in Her Majesty's Navy (for the English), three for the Canadians, and two for the Australians. Many were heroic in battle, several pivotal, and when the creators of the original series of Star Trek wanted the name of a ship, they picked the _Enterprise_ due to its multi-national lineage and importance. As Jean-Luc Picard said of the name; for five hundred years, every ship that has born the name _Enterprise_ became a legend.

The Strategic Tactical Armored Response Section (STARS) was the office Marshal Sam Collins (a Clandestine-level Council Agent) was to run in the Peacemaker Series in the third story known as "The Fury Of Our Makers' Hand". Yes, it corresponds with the acronym of SPECTRE, Special Tactics And Reconnaissance, which was the point. It was to have several SPECTREs (Nihlus, Tela, and Jondum) as well as other elite-level officers (Jane Shepard, Stacy Valentino, Royce Mason, Garrus Vakarian, and Zevin Raeka) as well as OC's never introduced.

Lisana T'lesso is the hotshot ice runner from Voeld who claimed to be the Citadel's best pilot.

 _Galaxy of War_ is the Call of Duty/Mass Effect game of the MEU, talked about by that one Salarian GameStop employee. I've brought it up on a couple of occasions in _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ , but it is a first/third-person shooter that also has space battles.

The idea of the _Kili_ tearing itself apart actually comes from Joker, mentioned during the first game when 'Sovereign just pulled a turn that would have sheered a ship in half'. I know that vessels _can_ do more, but generally in an aquatic environment, resistance is greater and can cause structural damage if, say, a Carrier were to do a full turn at full flank speed.

Yes, I am aware that the original NCC-1701 is, in fact, a _Constitution_ -Class Vessel, but that would have made the USS _Constitution_ the Class leader (in Navy Tradition). Instead, the vessels resemble the NCC-1701-D _Galaxy_ -Class of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It would make sense that, if we did end up exploring the stars, someone might end up designing this very ship as both inspiration and pride, which is why I brought it out instead of making a crossover. I'm trying to imagine Jean-Luc fighting the Geth. Would he talk them to death over Earl Gray Tea?

 _Molk'n Labe?_ \- When an emissary of the Godking Xerxes met King Leonidas I of Lakedaemon (of the Laconia region of Greece), asking him to lay down his arms and submit (and thus sparing himself and his 300), his response had been, in no uncertain terms, _come and take them_. This is the English equivalent of the Ancient Greek term, as best as I can translate it, since Modern Greek, it is now _Molon Labe_. Plutarch wrote of this centuries afterwards, as the Spartans themselves did not have a written history, and the Greek writer/philosopher took to a more romantic view of the Spartans. The only true written testament to what is now known as the Battle of Thermopyle exists in two forms; the Epitaph of Simonides ("Dear traveler, tell Lakedaemon that here we lie dead, obedient to their word" inscription upon the site, since lost to time but having been endlessly written about over the millennium), and of course the account written by Simonides himself (survivors who retreated before the slaughter were told to warn Athens) to the Council of Athens, helping the Athenians evacuate their city and giving testament to the Greek retaliation against the Achaemenid (First Persian) Empire. Simonides was probably one of the first ancient war corespondents, though most of what he had written were accounts of, since he himself was not a soldier.

The Four Ships that I used have their place in history. The HMS _Victory_ , Horatio Nelson's flagship, is the oldest surviving ship in the world (and survives today thanks to a woman). The USS _Constitution_ is the oldest serving ship in the world on active duty and, strangely enough, the only vessel in the US Fleet to have ever sank an enemy warship. The INJ _Yamoto_ was the largest ship in WWII and the pride of the Imperial Japanese Navy. The FMF _L'Orient_ was the largest ship in the Napoleonic Era and the pride of the French Fleet.

Yes, Lieutenant Greg Adams is dead.

Without going and saying it, the Systems Alliance doesn't support same-gender relationships (politics!) But Jannie can break the rules.

I bet you're wondering who Monica Negulesco is. And why I'm throwing her on TEAM LION. You'll see. But she is a Canon character.

Captain's Mast is when one gets in trouble and is sent to receive punishment, usually in the form of non-judicial punishment. The term comes from when Sailors use to get flogged, but now it means getting sent to the Captains' office. UCMJ stands for the Uniformed Code of Military Justice (United States Military) and an Article 92 is the proper Article for Dereliction of Duty.

The transfer paperwork (sorry, _data_ work) I made to look legitimate to the real thing as best I could in format.

Kassa Fabrications' HyperGuardian Armor -the 'C8' Armor from Mass Effect: Andromeda that adds to health and shielding. I have no idea how armor makes you 'healthier' (last time I checked, I didn't come with a red bar floating in my vision every time I strapped on my Hi-Point IBA) so I incorporated power into movement and action to aid in ease of movement, carrying of burdens, and able to cover a short distance quickly, making one less tired in endeavors (so… that's a close 'healthier'), as well as upgrading the shielding. In Andromeda Canon, the HyperGuardian armor was created by Kassa Fabrications, and is modified from the Colossus line of armor you see in Mass Effects 1 and 3.


	31. The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, I

_Praise BioWare and pass the thermal clip._

 **UT-47 Kodiak "** _ **Rey Kenobi"**_ **, Flight to Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 10, 2183**

Author's Note: Welcome to Priority Mission: Feros!

This will be a double-hitter; two ARCs of goodness as I increase the dial to 'Add Violence'.

For now? Welcome to THE SIEGE.

* * *

" _They fall in line,  
_ _One at a time,  
_ _Ready to play;  
_ ( _I can see them anyway).  
_ _There's no time to lose,  
_ _We've got to choose,  
_ _Steady at helm;  
_ _(I am losing sight again)._

" _Fire your guns,  
_ _It's time to run,  
_ _Blow me away!  
_ _(I will stay unless I may)  
_ _After the fall,  
_ _We'll shake it off,  
_ _Show me the way!_

" _Only the strongest will survive!  
_ _Lead me to Heaven when we die!  
_ _I am the shadow on the wall!  
_ _I'll be the one to save us all!"_

" _Hey, would you look at that? The Geth decided to come out and play."_

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) moved to the port window of the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel as Breaking Benjamin played over the loudspeaker of the _"Rey Kenobi"_ , and the redhead saw what Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway saw, the Colonial Air Force pilot pointing out the sight of white metallic figures moving amongst the crags and ruins of a fallen ancient Prothean city. The Geth were engaging the defenders of the colonial town of Hadley's Hope, to the north of the town, were a large storm wall had been constructed to prevent high winds buffeting incoming and outgoing craft from being tossed about and possibly crashing into any portion of the pre-fab constructed town. Dozens of rifles were engaged on both sides as Geth hardware platforms were using the tight confines of the basalt crags as cover, maneuvering to find a weakness in the defenses.

"Air Force? Get us within weapons range and pop open the door." Jannie commanded as she pulled off her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle from its' maglocked position on her chestpiece, queuing up a program on her HMOT MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV OmniTool, finding the WarApp that she had gotten from the House of Boom in the Office of Special Tactics. _Yes, this should do nicely_ , she thought to herself with a grin as she activated the App to create the appropriate item from her armors' reserves of MetalGel, PlastiGel, CeramiGel, and OmniGel. It would take five seconds to craft, which was more than enough time for the _Rey_ to get into range. "Wrex?"

" _Get me right over them."_ The big game hunter Urdnot Wrex replied through his helmet, looking at a trigraphic monitor showing the battle. _"You planning on having a little fun yourself, Shepard?"_

"I'm the one starting the show." Jannie smirked, the facial expression lost in the confines of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor's helmet, fabricated to look like the Rig Suit of Issac Clarke of _Dead Space_. "No worries, Wrex. I'll leave you some to play with." The shuttle banked to port as Detective Garrus Vakarian, Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder, and Niki'Raan nar Tombay stood up, having already been identified during the pre-mission brief that this might be a possibility. The rest were to secure the Landing Grid just northwest of the town of Hadley's Hope; a raised structure overlooking the mining colony and past another stormbreaker wall that protected the town. But Shepard figured with the Geth Fleet gone, the Geth would either occupy the town to hold its defensive position to their advantage, or deny the Systems Alliance the ability to prevent them from achieving a portion of their objective.

Oh fuck no. It was kick the can time.

" _ETA, fifteen seconds."_ Holloway called out as Breaking Benjamin's _Blow Me Away_ was changed to something more appropriate as the N7 smiled at the sound of Motley Crue pounding through the speakers as the Air Force pilot whipped a turn with the shuttle that had the vessel listing to port as the gullwing door of the Kodiak popped open to expose its crew at the last possible second, and Jannie smiled at the target right in front of her; a hundred meters down was the meat of the Geth effort, a couple dozen platforms harassing the defenders while using the crags as cover and concealment. _Nowhere to run now, fuckers,_ Shepard smiled as she toggled her SPECTRE OmniTool, grabbed the munition that she had fabricated with its App, and launched it right towards the heart of the Geth offensive.

The Cobra Rocket-Propelled Grenade was as advertised.

The munition, a one kilogram warhead of chemically-produced high-explosives cocooned in a CeramiGel shell, fired forward with its microthruster accelerating it while keeping it on target as the hard rock guitar of the Crue lulled her into battle; her heart pounding, her blood singing as she watched the explosive round fly straight and true right into a knot of Geth assaulters, exploding where ten hardware platforms had been congregating, putting a real dent in their day. With the shuttle hovering a hundred meters above and the words of Vince Neil beginning to shout, the six members of TEAM LION exited the shuttle in mid-air to an anthem for saving the world.

" _He's the wolf screaming lonely in the night,  
_ _He's the bloodstain on the sta-a-age!  
_ _He's the tear in your eye, been tempted by his lie,  
_ _He's the knife in your back; he's rage!  
_ _He's the razor to the knife, oh lonely is our lives,  
_ _My head's spinnin' round and round!  
_ _But in the season of wither, we'll stand and deliver,  
_ _Be strong, and laugh a-ah-and…_

" _ **Shout! Shout! Shout!**  
_ _Shout at the Devil!  
_ _ **Shout! Shout! Shout!**  
_ _Shout at the Devil!"_

Six figures fell from the sky, weapons bared as they plummeted from a height of a hundred meters above ground level. The Geth that had been struck by the Cobra round had been battered and wrecked, none apparently getting up as the rest of their contingent found themselves in a strange sort of pincer attack from both the ground _and_ the air. Jannie could feel the wind whip past her armor as she free-fell in a ELAELO Base Jump, toggling the Alliance Objective Firearm Initiatives' jump thrusters within five meters of the ground, cutting her decent by three-quarters as she then toggled the boost thrusters to propel her forward as she landed in front of a Geth Trooper model, hitting the ground running as she cracked its optic sensor with the buttstock of her Alliance Objective Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle as Bastila disengaged from her back magnetically, the contragravity armored assault turret's weapons spinning up and engaging a Geth Destroyer with its twin miniguns as Jannie ran forward, putting two rounds into a Troopers' chest cavity, its electronic eye winking out as the hardware unit shuttered and fell to the craggy ground in a spray of white fluid and holed hull. A Hunter was landed upon by Wrex, the half-ton Krogan crushing it with his feet as he began engaging Geth with his Cipritine Armory's Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle, laughing as he engaged a Prime unit with gusto, his left hand casting forth as the three-meter tall platform began to drift upward, spinning slowly and uncontrollably as he shot at it. The rounds caused it to spin like a top on all three axises as the big game hunter swiped his three-fingered hand once more, smashing and impaling the Geth on a crag, nearly splitting it in half.

Wrex put a dozen or so more rounds into it, laughing. Just to be sure, no doubt.

The rest of the Geth went combat ineffective as Jannie turned to see Sara put a shotgun round from her hand-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon into a Hunters' chest, sending the platform staggering back a meter as the Corpsman jumped forward and _Spartan_ kicked the thing in its chest while shouting _'get some!'_ , knocking it to the ground as she put another round where its central processor and power cell were located, ending its existence. Beside her, Niki'Raan was using her Rannoch Industries' Adas Anti-Synthetic Rifle to fry a Geth Rocket Trooper as a Shield Drone lazily encircled her head, deploying extra shielding as the Quarian loaded another electromagnetic tag to her rifle while Ryder engaged a Hunter with her assault rifle selection of her Falcon, stitching it with five-shot bursts until it fumbled to the ground. Detective Garrus Vakarian was standing in a singular location, merely pivoting and engaging no less than three Geth Troopers at different directions with his ERCS Rapid Response Unit-issued M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, pivoting and firing in such a way that he drained their shields and sent them reeling quickly. Shepard was impressed. Sergeant Ashley Williams was firing her Kassa Fabrications' M76 Reverent Light Machine Gun at two Geth units, a Trooper and a Pyro unit, setting the Heavy Helium tank off as it ruptured and took out both units and two more nearby ones. She then switched to her Devlon Industries' M-92 Sniper Platform and put a round through a Geth Destroyer, snapping its shields and causing the Geth unit to stumble. Bastila finished the job with a well-placed rocket to its chest cavity, turning it into so much scrap.

Jannie remembered the Trooper she had knocked down, seeing it crawling towards its fallen rifle only a meter or so away, the rest of its synthetic comrades having been Blue Screen of Death'ed. The Lion moved over and flipped the unit onto its back with her foot so its ocular sensor was looking at her as she drew and activated her Alliance Objective Firearm Initiative M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol and put the laser dot right on the glowing reticle, her foot planted right on its neck servo. She hoped the Master Control Unit or whomever was watching.

"This is exactly what it looks like when death comes for you."

And she pulled the trigger.

* * *

For the past two and a half days, Hadley's Hope had been under siege.

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha 'Sam' Hulick had been doing her best to keep order in the mining town, its one thousand residents bunkered in the buildings of the colony proper while her Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit held back the constant assaults that seemed to come from one direction, ending right when another would take its place from another direction. The Half-Bird knew what the toasters were doing; running her men ragged and dry, never a moment of rest or piece. What she didn't understand was _why_ the Geth hadn't overrun the colony or its rather simple defenses. Upon arriving to Hadley's Hope and seeing the rather poor maintenance and defensive posture, the first thing Sam had done was to get her Marines to construct a perimeter wall around the town (much to the objections of the colonists, but she hadn't cared), using the same earthmoving equipment that the miners used to dig for minerals to make a three-meter berm around the colony. It had been reinforced with firing positions, machine gun nests, and Marines.

About sixty or so hours ago, all hell had broken loose, and it hadn't stopped once.

"Lieutenant! Get what's left of Cygnus Platoon over to the south." The Colonel told her aide-de-camp as she looked onto her Blue Force program in her Tactical Operations Center, being manned as low as possible with herself, a butterbar Lieutenant as a Battle Captain, a Corporal as a Battle NCO, and a Private First Class as the Receiver/Transmitter Operator. Unit connectivity was hashed thanks to the Geth, so Hulick was relying on the old-school fashion of decision-making; plotting calls of enemy units and marking it herself and reorienting her men over pre-gen Frequency Hop communications that hadn't been hacked yet. The Lieutenant in question, 2nd Lieutenant James Vega, nodded as he got onto a physical transmitter connected by hardline to call in the action, hardlines impossible to hack or disrupt unless someone physically tapped the line. Li-Fi and Wi-Fi connections were down, there was nothing coming in on the Colonial Transmitter, and the Fourth simply wasn't there anymore.

Oh, she knew what happened, but she hadn't told her men that the Fourth was now a box of scraps floating about Feros.

"Ma'am, I'm getting a report of… an airdrop to our north!" The RTO, PFC Jerry Taggert announcing out loud from his station where the bank of RT radios sat in front of him. "A UT-47 was spotted flying overhead and dropped off six while airborne. Andromeda Platoon reports…" The PFC stopped, turned, and looked at the Colonel with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

"They're reporting _SPECTREs_. More than one."

"Shit, I think its landing on the Frisbee." Vega said, looking out of the Space Traffic Control Tower that once was used to guide vessels into Hadley's Hopes' landing platform, affectionately called ' _the Frisbee'_ by her Marines due to its shape. The Colonel looked out one of windows to see… yes, there was a UT-47 banking hard and practically on a crash-course for the platform, performing a combat landing. It banked and _just_ missed hitting the side of it as the shuttle practically scraped the AlumniSteel surface, the gullwing doors opening and…

…no shit, a SPECTRE.

Oh, the SPECTRE wasn't alone. Sam saw the signature HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Armor being worn by a helmeted Asari, followed by a Salarian, six Humans of both genders, another Asari, and a Quarian female. Their weapons were out to secure the platform, and Sam winced.

They had lost the Frisbee an hour ago. The Geth ruled over it and its singular Anti-Vessel GARDIAN Laser Artillery piece.

"El-Tee, get me radio contact with those assholes before the Geth paste them." James nodded as he went to the Traffic Control panel that had been otherwise useless for the past couple of days, finding a toggle indicating 'loudspeaker'. He clicked it and diplomatically informed them at a hundred and twenty decibels their current predicament.

"Hey, _pendejos!_ Geth overran the landing platform an hour ago." Vega said, his voice being broadcasted throughout the entirety of the colony. "Get your crest down, Blue. Geth snipers gonna drill you like it's free _los joder concha_ night!" Corporal Susan Eby snorted at the language as she updated the log while manning another radio. Hopefully that Asari didn't have Latin Spanish as a translatable language.

"El-Tee, how soon can you get over there?" Hulick asked, looking to the Marine as his eyes went shrewd.

"Minute, tops. I'm taking Big Bertha with me, ma'am." The Lieutenant Colonel nodded her approval as the large _Latino_ Marine pulled out a Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, known as 'the Ripper' amongst the Jarheads. It was a heavy weapon that was meant for defensive positions and suppressive tactics. But in the hands of beefy muscle-bound Marines who liked their weapons like they liked their music, heavy and metal, the Marshal could be carried by a man and engage from the hip with the aid of a SMARTracking System. Or by round impact.

"Get over there soonest, El-Tee, and try to make sure you don't get your head blown off." Sam told her Lieutenant, fixing him hard with a meaningful stare. She didn't have the men to throw away.

Not anymore.

* * *

2nd Lieutenant James Ernesto Vega panted as he ran in his Aldrin Labs' Medium Onyx Interceptor Armor, cradling the Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun in his hands. The Marshal was a beast, configured in a chainsaw-carrying configuration where the trigger was on _top_ of the weapon, as well as the carrying handle. Supposedly, it was to help fight against muzzle climb. Honestly, it was because it was awesome-looking. Colonel said to get those _ninos_ and _ninas_ from out of the open, and that's what he was going to do.

But he was going to get a little help.

" _Adios_! Get your _cula_ in gear!" The Lieutenant shouted as he ran down the final steps of the Space Traffic Control Tower and out the door where a _Latina_ Marine guarded it from Geth infiltration. The sole survivor of her platoon, she had fought her way through a dozen Geth single-handedly, killing the _pendejos_ that had killed her platoon. That had been… yesterday and a lifetime ago. The woman in question, a short but muscular _chica_ who didn't take shit from nobody, tossed her cigarette and hauled her own M-56 Marshal Machine Gun, nobody bothering to tell her that perhaps she was too short or too light to do so. Nope. James didn't need to find out if a _chica_ half his height and weight might possibly kick his ass for suggesting such a thing. She was _mal-culo_ enough to swing a Marshal? Then good for her. She hadn't been wearing her helmet, wearing that out-of-regs red bandanna around her forehead, not that it was needed to keep her high-and-tight haircut from getting in her eyes unlike some other _ninas_. No, this woman was like a panther, a War Goddess. She ran right beside him with both of their Marshals clanking against their armor as James led her towards the door that would put them outside of the defensive wall and head them towards the Frisbee.

" _¿Qué pasa?"_ The female Marine asked, the Corporal looking to him as they ran for the wall.

"Reinforcements. SPECTREs. On the Frisbee, _Adios_." Vega told her, calling her by what she had tagged her Marshal with; stenciled on its side was ' _Adios_ ', and the name fit her perfect. She didn't need much more explanation, and didn't ask any more questions as they headed towards the door, Vega running right towards it, slamming his left shoulder right next to its frame as the female Corporal, looked to him once as Vega nodded his head, and she kicked out the door with a mighty boot. The door flung open as the Corporal led with the Lieutenant hot on her heels, bringing his Marshal to bear, the SteadyCam attaching the weapon to his body providing stability and accuracy, as well as compensating for some of its twenty kilogram weight as he stood shoulder to shoulder with _Adios_ , their machine guns sweeping for any immediate threats.

They were in Indian Country now; past the wall, the Geth ruled supreme.

" _¡Claro!"_ The female Marine announced as their Marshals swept, Vega going from twelve to nine and nine to twelve, while _Adios_ did twelve to three and three to twelve, covering a one-hundred and eighty degree arc in front of them in six seconds. James bumped the _Latina's_ shoulder with his own and jerked his head towards the base of the tower that led towards the Frisbee. From the ground, it looked like a flat mushroom. The entrance was easily half-a-kilometer away, not that far, really. Unfortunately, the area was littered with cargo containers, transportation equipment, lifting equipment, heavy excavators and buckets, and all the debris of a space port _and_ a mining camp. It was a _pinche_ mess, that was for sure, and one could have hidden two platoons in the shadows of the equipment, waiting to butcher a relief effort. James was looking for the best route through, and saw really only two options; go for the middle and hope for the best, or circumvent to the left where there was fewer pieces of equipment to use as cover and concealment, doubling the distance but halving the threat.

" _Hermosa_." Vega gestured towards the left, picking the smarter of two options, knowing that going through the middle was a fine recipe for them getting slaughtered. _Adios_ nodded once as she took the lead, moving at a double time with her Marshal pointing forward, scanning in a tight arc in front of her while she moved at a semi-tactical jog towards the route he had identified. Vega followed her, keeping a few meters back to keep them from hopefully getting killed by munitions or explosives at the same time as he moved at the same pace as the Corporal in the lead, his own medium machine gun oriented more towards the area littered with equipment and places to hide. A hundred Geth could be secreted in this maze of _mierda_ and they'd never know until they were on top of the synthetic race… or they started taking fire. James did a quick _Ave María_ as he moved, his barrel sweeping toward the right as he moved, keeping up with the Corporal despite his awkward running pattern of keeping his upper torso slightly turned to the right while running forward. It wasn't comfortable, but it was more comfortable than picking a bullet out of ones' _culo_. They jogged the distance, rounding heavy equipment and checking their corners as they moved from one piece of cover to the next, the Lieutenant using the opportunities to check their six to see if anyone were trying to flank them every time they did.

" _¿Teniente?"_ _Adios_ got his attention as the Corporal jerked her head towards the right, towards something that was over the cover they were using, a shipping container they were taking a knee at. Obviously she had seen something around the corner, and was getting his attention. _"Once agresores. Buscar y destruir patrón"_ James winced at the description; eleven Geth in a search and destroy mission. The machines must have picked up that they were there, and were actively trying to find them and kill them. There was really only one thing he could say to that.

" _¡Que se jodan!"_ Vega replied fiercely as he pivoted on his knees to where he was facing in the same direction as the Corporal, duck-walking behind her so that they could move together. "Israeli Corner, _hermosa_ , on three." James whispered to his new subordinate, the woman nodding fiercely as her dark eyes flashed with anger, pivoting the Marshal to where the trigger was on her left side, switching her hands to perform a corner-clearing on the right side; difficult to do for a right-handed firer without exposing too much of their body. The simple solution was to switch hands at the cost of firing in the non-natural way, suffering some inefficiency for the bonus of more cover. It was worth it. Vega did the same as he stood, practically towering over the kneeling female Marine. _"Uno… dos… TRES!"_

The both took a step out in the open and began to engage.

The Israeli Corner was a corner-clearing tactic that had two men clear a sector at the same time; one kneeling, and one standing. It offered maximum firepower and protection for the clearers, though the person at the bottom had to deal with the fact that there was an active weapon right above their head. Still, having two Marines firing upon the enemy was better than one, and having two M-56 Marshals even more so. James saw the Geth as he began to engage them, the Marshal roaring in his hands as the recoil shook his arms and shoulders as the SteadyCam's stabilizers and gyroscopic inertia dampeners worked to keep him on target as the weapons software management suite corrected the weapons' climb and suppressive abilities to make the weapon as lethal as possible. The Marshal was a testament to its design, meant to stop infantry advances and movement, wilting any formation with its deadly hail of fire. Firing at fifteen rounds a second and a large drum-like heat sink to give it the ability to fire in long ten-second bursts, it was deadly in the hands of a Marine, and the Finger of God in the hands of an artist. James was good, no slouch himself, but _Adios_ was his better, and they both knew it. It was why he told her to come, after all.

The two Marshals opened up with a roar as the SMARTracking systems kept the barrels and rounds on target as the two Marines engaged eleven Geth Trooper units moving in a single column, closer together than was smart, only a meter between them. Their weapons and flashlights were scanning left and right when they had rounded the corner, some twenty meters in front of them as the pair of Marines engaged them judiciously, no quarter given nor asked for. James swept the formation with his Marshal from lead unit to tail unit quickly, deigning to create as much damage as he could as quickly as possible for his first two sweeps going from front to back, and then back to front. Semi-visible ripples erupted around the frames of the hardware platforms as kinetic defenses prevented the rounds from penetrating and striking the Geth units, the optical illusion halo appearing around their frames as their forms distorted slightly with the effect. James made another pass as he watched four of the rippling effects 'pop'; their shields were down. Two were already down by the hand of _Adios_ , focusing on the ones closest to them instead of sweeping, as was generally the standard tactic, quickly turning the Geth units into holed piñatas. The Geth were moving into cover, firing on their position as rounds struck the cargo container they were using, as well as the ground in front of them, the sound of nearby rounds passing them by only focusing the Lieutenant as he began focusing an the bounding Geth, taking one down personally, and then moving to another. The two of them had eliminated seven within the breath of several seconds, the Marshals meant for mass enemy movements, not a small squad at close ranges, and the difference was telling as the remaining four Geth took positions behind various covers.

They didn't last very long as Vega and _Adios_ butchered them one-by-one in duel-firing techniques that stripped the units of their shields and their functionality in a second, thirty rounds a second a murderous torrent of fire for anyone.

"Damn." James announced as soon as the Troopers had been wiped out, pleased with how well it had gone. He had barely taken any hits, and the Corporal was getting on her feet with no issues. "Wish they were all that easy." _Adios_ reflected her opinion by hocking up and letting out a wad of spit in the Geths' direction, letting them know how she really felt. "Hey, _Adios_? Ever been mistaken for a man?" James asked, feeling a little cheeky. The female Marine just turned her head and looked at him wryly.

" _No."_ A broad smirk grew on her lips as the Corporal's dark eyes flashed with surliness.

" _¿Y tú?"_

* * *

Systems Alliance Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins (SAMS, OST) had been in many a shithole in her life; a part of the life of being in the Systems Alliance Marshal Services. As the top lawdogs of the Systems Alliance with a jurisdiction that included 'anywhere a man lives, works, or prays', Frontier Marshals and their Deputies were posted on every colony that the Alliance had to keep law and order, and the _Federales_ like herself in locations in between said colonies. It was the job of those such as herself to hunt criminals down; she was the bloodhound that chased those who thought they could get away with it all. What made her so damn good at it was a quirk, actually; Sam was born a high-functioning Autistic Savant, with progressive social interaction abilities and high-level trends in hypercalculia. She was one of those _very rare few_ in which her natural disability was not inhibiting, but she actually came out with a good deal of benefits. Yes, crowds and strangers still made her nervous and awkward, and she never did get the hang of differentiating between most facial expressions (yet she picked up on Turians' well enough thanks to their mandibles spacing out at certain distances, something her calculating eyes could tell), but Sam could calculate statistics, odds, spatial distances, and complicated high-level math problems in her head in rapid amounts of time. It came with an added benefit; she could translate the code of Mass Relay translation data to figure out what a ship was, how much it carried, its energy output, and several other facts by reading and deciphering its hypercomplex algorithms. That meant she could calculate and plot when and where a ship translated from… and where it went. In Layman's terms, there was nowhere anyone could run and hide from the Butcher of Torfan.

It was the reason she had been selected for the Office of Special Tactics.

Nearly eight years serving the Council alongside her husband, Council Agent Nihlus Kryik, had her going in a wide variety of locales throughout the galaxy, the ultimate shiphunter cracking down on terrorists, anti-government forces, smugglers, slavers, pirates, and criminal empires. She had been the bloodhound, and Nihlus the iron fist, the dark places of the underworld absolutely screaming at terror as she slowly dismantled every location that a pirate could hide, any slave pen that could be found, any lonely outpost a fleeing criminal could pay to be kept in hiding. Together, along with a few friends, Sam and Nihlus had _scoured_ the galaxy of no less than seven major criminal empires, thirteen trafficking networks, and more narcotic runners than even _she_ could remember… and she had almost perfect memory recall. For years, Collins and Kryik had worked together well, their relationship developing from professional to casual, casual to friendly, friendly to the day Sam had taken Nihlus' talons in her hand and guided him to her bed, the male she had come to trust, and later to fall in love with. The day he had asked to formally bond with her, to officially become bondmates, Sam hadn't needed to think of an answer; in her heart, she already knew.

And then a Turian Nihlus had looked upon as a _sire_ had taken that all away.

Feros, in a word, was a shithole.

Collins was on the top of the Landing Grid, a thirty meter-by-thirty meter raised platform where shuttles could be landed, booms could collect cargo containers attached to _Kolwoon_ -Class cargo transporters, or personnel could embark/disembark spacecraft as need. There was only one place to go on the large circular platform; a cargo container had been turned into a waiting area, one of its walls removed for access while benches had been added for a place to sit. For a waiting area, it sucked; open to the elements on one side, with no kind of atmospheric barrier for the dust or heating for the cold, its only saving grace was that… no, it just sucked. Benches and a hole where the stair access was, that was it. Not even an elevator.

Ten members of TEAM LION were using the crappy terminal as cover and a rally point. The Marines Ubantu, Hoss, Broussard, and Balsach had immediately ripped the benches from their moorings and used the MetalGel-fabricated long benches as impromptu cover when they started getting fired upon when they landed on the Landing Grid; crappy cover, but certainly better than no cover. Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya had done what she could to provide cover with a pair of defense-oriented Shield Drones she had minifactured as TEAM LION hustled to the only damn location possible, buying them time to engage and suppress the enemies as the Marines built up what defenses they could. Snipers had been put out in the craggy ridge lines surrounding the colonial town of Hadley's Hope, their rounds almost devastating as the members of TEAM LION used the terminal as some sort of concealment; evidently, the logical processing centers of the Geth had yet to learn to try to shoot _through_ cover, so that was something. The Marines had used MetalGel, PlastiGel, and CeramiGel to better strengthen their bench-berm (what Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach simply called 'the benchhead') as Marines were taught to do; engage, fortify, and exploit tactical weaknesses of the enemy. Agent Zevin Raeka of the Salarian Special Tasks Group, their only long-range specialist, engaged the Geth snipers with her Araike Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle, coolly putting bursts of erringly accurate fire into Geth units trying to lase and destroy them. Doctor Liara T'soni, the Asari Protheantologist, hand her hands held forward as she herself warbled slightly with bluish tint that wreathed over her armored frame; she was using her Biotics to create a defensive shield that reflected the rounds back, though the distances were too great and the angles wrong to damage the Geth. Tali'Zorah was busy making Assault Drones and Assault Turrets, sending out the OmniGel-crafted spheres to harass the Geth and the hovering little turrets to add to their volume of fire as the Marines laid waste to any muzzle flashes they saw.

Doc Negulesco was working; one of their own had been shot.

When the loudspeaker had come on, the booming voice of a Human male telling them of the threat of Geth snipers (in a rather colorful manner), Collins had ordered her team to the only cover in sight; the waiting area. They had come under fire almost immediately, Tali tossing out a Shield Drone while T'soni erected a small Biotic dome of protection as they moved towards the only position they could take, covering three sides while unfortunately leaving a fifteen meter gap of exposure from where the containers' wall had been cut. 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko had been struck twice almost at the get-go; the first round had clipped his shields, sparking off his Kassa Fabrications Inferno Heavy Engagement Armor (EOD Variant), while the second shot less than a second later pierced right through his kinetic defenses and armor, piercing his right shoulder, right above the collar bone. Seaman Monica Negulesco, her first time on the ground and her first combat action, had ducked down and rushed to the Combat Engineer, hauling the beleaguered man as he stumbled forward, injured and disoriented as he grabbed his firing shoulder. Doc had rushed him to the only possible bunker and had gotten to work on his as the Marines began constructing their defenses by ripping the benches off their cheap brackets and laying them down to form a barricade, calling out _Semper Fi, Doc!_ as they did so. Less than a minute on the ground, and Doc Nugee had already proved herself once.

Now they had to get out of this bottlenecked death trap.

Collins was engaging a Geth sniper at rather extreme ranges with her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Assault Rifle, having switched it to single-shot and using the three-powered acquisition scope to fire upon Geth units. It was an assault rifle, not a high-powered one, and it would take at least ten shots to bring a hardware platform down if it remained in the open. Which the Geth didn't, taking a shot at the team, and slipping back into cover. There were at least seven units sniping at them, but two had already been taken down with a combination of Indra fire, Modulus fire, and Karseus fire from the Marines. Still, five snipers was nothing to sneeze at.

" _Engage hostile!"_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya told her Armali Council's Nexus OmniTool, linked to her Assault Drone that had been tossed and ordered to flank and harass. The little hovering spheres weren't strong, firing OmniGel-crafted rounds out of a minifabricated electromagnetic rail that acted like a submachine gun. While not terribly damaging, it worked to flush enemies out of their positions, rounds impacting their shields to destroy their kinetic defenses. Likely it wouldn't do much to Geth armor itself, but it seemed that the Geth were more focused on shield technology rather than heavier armor. There was a distant sound of rounds blistering at a position somewhere to Collins' two o'clock, and she used her scope to track the location. There, a Geth unit popped up to aim its sniper rifle at the hovering drone.

Sam sighted and began firing, her Autistic mind hard at work to make the further-than-maximum distance target be engaged by her rounds. The scope she used was only rated for a bullet drop of four hundred meters, and the Geth sniper was at eight hundred. She knew the minute of angle for her Modulus to be a centimeter every hundred meters, and the math was calculated by her ceaseless supercomputer of a brain, though it really was quite simple to deduct. There was a five degree drop at four hundred meters, but rounds' would arc exponentially after that distance; bullet drop wasn't linear, but a J-curve. It was a four centimeter drop at four hundred meters. It was five and a half at five hundred. Seven and a half at six hundred meters. Ten and a half centimeters at seven.

Fifteen at eight hundred meters; twelve and a half degrees. Her mind did the math in less in a second.

The Butcher of Torfan began firing, putting three rounds in less than a breath with her Nexus' Modulus, feeling the recoil of every shot as she reacquired and fired quickly, her Autistic Savant mind able to make corrections much quicker than her normal Human counterparts, her reflexes almost twice as fast despite being organically the same. Three rounds went out in a second as all three struck the Geth platform, its shields having been drained by Tali's drone, and her rounds impacting against hardware.

Its chest caved in at the third shot, the platform dropping away like a puppet with its strings cut.

 _That's three_ , Sam noted, hoping the Geth wouldn't reinforce their position with four snipers left. As it was, their position was precarious with bare cover against well-aimed high-powered rounds. If the Geth found a way onto the Landing Grid, TEAM LION would be done for. She ducked down behind the benches, hearing the _vwip!_ of a round passing where her head use to be, the Marshal grimacing as she pulled back the bolt on her rifle to dispense heat even though the heat sink was nowhere near to full capacity; a lesson she learned on Therum, dump heat at every available opportunity. Liara was down on one knee, her armor moving in a way that suggested that she was breathing hard, her hands no longer holding up an invisible shield, and the Asarikin no longer looking as if she were wreathed in bluish tint. Her Biotics must have been exhausted protecting them from sniper rounds. Sam gritted her teeth in her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, trying to figure out a way out of the deadly crossfire. She was a cop, not a soldier; her expertise laid in close-quarters acquisition and combat, not long-range fighting and sustained defensive postures. TEAM LION being led by Captain Jane Shepard were at another location, what had looked to be a push towards the mining town, aiding the beleaguered Marines holding the fort. They wouldn't be available to take out the Geth for some time, and were likely in the wrong position to do so for their other long-range specialists, Detective Garrus Vakarian and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams.

" _I can hit them from here."_ Came the pained voice of 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, his back against one of the container walls and out of the line of fire, being overseen by Doc Nugee. The round that had struck him had luckily only been rather minor; it clipped the _trapezius_ muscle that went over the shoulder and connected to the neck. A centimeter or two to the right and it would have been his shoulder blade shattering, rendering him combat ineffective for weeks. A centimeter or two to the left and it would have been his neck and/or his throat. The Combat Engineer was hoisting up his Milkor Supersix M32 Multi-Purpose Munition Launcher in his left hand, grunting through the vox of his Inferno Armor. _"Doc? I need you to load me."_ The minifabrication suite at his left side, where the Naval Explosive Ordinance Disposal Team Member _created_ explosives, had a round ready in its chamber, a forty-millimeter round encased in a MetalGel shell. _"I got a little surprise for our robotic friends."_ His left hand snapped sideways quickly as the drum-like revolver of the Munition Launcher swung out to the side, revealing six empty chambers. Monica gulped audibly as she took the round from the fabrication chamber and loaded it into the weapon, handling it with extreme care, a live grenade in her hand. _"Slap it in and cock the forward carrying handle back and then forth."_ Collins watched as Doc pushed the revolver chamber back into the weapon and took the forward grip and cocked it like an old-school shotgun. _"Help me up and forward."_

"Prepare to lay down covering fire!" Collins called out to the rest of TEAM LION as she watched Negulesco helped the El-Tee forward, shooting forward to keep themselves as low as possible to take advantage of the covering benches. She could see the make-shift MetalGel/CeramiGel armor patch at the back of Alenko's armor, where the Corpsman had patched up his armor after injecting him with MediGel, the substance used to plug up wounds to prevent further injury, seepage, as well as delivering antibiotics and localized painkillers to the site. It wasn't MiracleGro, but it would do in many cases. The Navy EOD Officer reached the benches in question with Doc at his side, Negulesco pulling out her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle, her body language suggesting that she was nervous as hell. Probably scared out of her Goddamn mind, Sam thought. Yet she wasn't a puddle of tears in a corner, instead manning the line along with the rest of them. Doc Ryder would be proud of her little sidekick if she were here.

" _Y'know? Gotta hand it to the Angel."_ Kaidan's helmet looked over to the Marshal, his tone pained but amused. _"Magnetically-seeking grenades can be a beautiful thing. Captain's not the only one who can curve a round."_

"What?" The Marshal had no idea what the Sailor was talking about as he stuck the barrel of his weapon past the cover of benches, not even sticking his head out as he aimed _in the general direction of_ one of the Geth snipers. Despite being an area-of-effect weapon meant to suppress infantry charges and formations, aim was still a necessity. A grenade only had a kill radius of a meter or two in most cases. Yet she watched as the Lieutenant fired his weapon once, the _thwump!_ of its discharge distinctive, almost cartoon-like. The round quickly shot out, a black orb that grew into a speck in the air as it arc'ed up and then downward as its' velocity increased as gravity took over.

And then the damn thing went and _curved_ to the right.

Sam felt her jaw drop as the speck disappeared right behind a crag where a Geth sniper had been taking position, firing at any of them that had stuck themselves out from cover, now more lethal with Liara's Biotics overtaxed. There was a distant _wump_ of an explosion, and Collins jerked her head up and down for a brief moment to see that the explosion was more than just dust and smoke; pieces were involved, too.

"You got it!" The Butcher laughed as she watched Monica pulling out another grenade from the fabrication chamber, loading another shot into the weapon. Collins raised her rifle and suppressed the area of one of the snipers, knowing that the units needed to stay in place for the grenade to work. No doubt, it had a certain range and curve it would work in, but if the Geth were pinned down, the Lieutenant could rain down death from above. Another shot went out a few seconds later, and Sam noted with a smile that the Geth she had been firing on went up in an explosive cloud of smoke and dust, a portion of the upper torso separated from the rest of it. Raeka took the opportunity to snipe out another Geth unit with her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle, the heavy three-round burst cracking the chassis open violently as the remaining sniper count went down to one. The Marines were laying down heavy suppressive fire in a 'talking gun' fashion; two would fire a short burst, and then the other two would fire a longer burst, going back and forth. The hardware platform tried to engage, but some of the Marines' fire were impacting against its shields as Collins aimed and fired with her Modulus at the same time Raeka did with her Argus, and the platform went down hard.

" _Ancestors! That was intense!"_ Tali called out, the Quarian Pilgrim sounding relieved as her Nexus OmniTool glowed briefly and her two Assault Turrets hovered over to her and attached themselves to her thighs; no need to break them down and make more when they would surely be needed sooner rather than later.

When Sam saw a Geth unit, what looked to be a Destroyer, jump onto the raised platform of the Landing Grid from God knew where, she realized that she had jinxed herself too prematurely. Especially when it came with well over a dozen friends landing beside it, weapons drawn and ready.

 _Great, I'm going to die on this shithole._

* * *

Someone upstairs was fighting back, and fighting back _hard_.

2nd Lieutenant James Vega was cursing the man who invented stairs in two separate languages; English and _Espanol_. The Frisbee was situation some fifty meters above the ground, and whatever genius had decided to make a landing pad _in the air_ had thought stairs would be better than a lift or an elevator.

Thirty…two… _pinche_ … stories… of stairs.

The Marine huffed as he continued the climb at as fast a pace as he could manage wearing Aldrin Labs' Onyx Medium Interceptor Armor (twenty kilograms) while hoisting a Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun (fifteen kilograms) connected to a SteadyCam Armature Carrying Harness meant to aid in accuracy and firing (another five kilograms). Throw in his one hundred and five kilogram bulk of mean Mexican muscle, and stairs were now his new favorite enemy.

All fucking thirty-two stories of it.

 _Adios_ was right behind him, huffing and puffing as well as she kept up, thankfully not ripping him for now going about half the speed in which he started at the ground level. They were approximately two-thirds the way up the stalk of the Frisbee, and unless he had planned to _saunter_ the _pinche_ climb, it was going to wear him out no matter what. It was a matter of life-or-death that drove him to continue the burn, to push himself no matter how badly his body cried out for him to stop and take a break. His thighs felt big enough to burst through the seams of his combat underarmor pants, and he felt like he was breathing both fire _and_ acid in his lungs despite the internal environmentals of the Onyx Armor. Carrying Big Bertha certainly wasn't helping matters as he lugged the Medium Machine Gun, wishing he'd grabbed a Lancer or a Mattock. Sometimes being too macho had its…

…nah. That was bullshit.

The climb continued as James hustled, hearing the exchange of gunfire at the top of the Frisbee, with the muted sounds of explosives going off; whose side, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that the first sign of reinforcements in two days had come and landed _right_ in the middle of Geth territory, and if they got waxed, who knew how long it'd be before they got more? SPECTRE propaganda and rumors aside, they were heavy-hitters who could call in for the big boys and the big guns if they felt the need, and that was more than enough for him. Probably wouldn't hurt that the Blue in question probably be rocking out in that armor of hers.

He was a man. He was allowed to appreciate beauty in whatever form it happened to come in, right?

"Five more story, _Adios_!" Vega called back as he muscled through the pain, taking the stairs two at a time to make up for his lack of top-rate speed, his teeth clenched and sweat pouring down his face. Just what he needed, to be exhausted in the middle of a firefight with the Geth, too tired to aim straight. James shoved the thought aside violently as he continued on. If it had been his brothers and sisters of the Marine Corps, he'd run until his lungs popped… and then he'd keep running. There had been Humans on that Human UT-47, so chances were that the SPECTRE (or SPECTREs) had gathered whatever fighting forces were available to make a push; made sense.

"Fuckin'… stairs, man!" The female Marine behind him grunted out loud as she panted, her unhelmeted head probably making the ascent more uncomfortable; Feros wasn't a lovely place. In fact, it was a dust-choked shithole that forever smelled like ass and mold.

"Almost… there!" James felt like he was on his last legs. Fuck that, he was on his last legs ten stories ago! That Asari's _cula_ had better be damn sexy after all this running. He rounded up the last turnbuckle of the stairs and saw that the trapdoor was open, and the noise coming out of it was _deafening_. It was well beyond a full-fledge firefight up there by the sounds of it, dozens and dozens of rounds per second being fired on a two-way range. _Adios_ stopped next to him, her jaw clenching as she looked up into the hole that would lead them to hell, her dark eyes tight and hard as she looked up to him once, rotating her head and cracking her neck as she nodded once. She was ready. True blue Marine, that one.

"Let's go fucking get some." Vega said he bullrushed the last flight and dashed into hell.

" _¡El riesgo simpre vive!"_ The Corporal shouted as they burst out from the ramp with their M-56 Marshals lowering into engagement level and Vega started firing at the first Geth he saw, his eyes taking in _a lot_. The Medium Machine Gun sprayed round right towards a Geth Trooper, reducing its shields and its body into a mangled mess in a couple of seconds as _Adios_ showed off her own charms, dancing and pivoting around her weapon, an artist hard at work as she threshed a Pyro unit, causing it to explode violently. There were _dozens_ of Geth units on the Frisbee, some jumping up from God knew where and landing on the platform to engage at the position just to his right. There James saw the SPECTRE team huddled behind the waiting room benches, having been torn out and turned to metal cover, ten people bunkered behind its protection as they fired over their defenses to engage the Geth.

" _Get down!"_ The SPECTRE in MasterGear Armor shouted from behind her helmet, carrying… was that fucking _Mammothkiller_ in her hand? James was still laying waste to the Geth, engaging his third as he saw two cute little hovering drones float to his position, aiming at the Geth and engaging with some weak-sauce fire. _Adios_ had danced and pivoted her way to one of the walls of the waiting area, using some of it as cover as she fired in broad sweeping arcs, screaming Spanish profanity as she laid low a Geth Destroyer while Vega crumpled a Hunter variant to his left. An explosion rocked the Frisbee as two Geth went down in a puff of smoke and metal debris, and the Lieutenant spotted a Human with a fucking Munition Launcher being loaded by a Doc, by the looks of it, his right arm taped to his side. Got shot but kept fighting. Tough bastard. _Laugh now, cry later_.

The Asari SPECTRE jumped out from her cover with her hands filled with guns; a no-bullshit Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver in one of them, and what looked to be a Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol in the other as she began _obliterating_ Geth with her Mammothkiller; she used the underside of her right forearm to pull the hammer back and fire shots at a speed that impressed the hell outta him, going through six shots in three seconds, six Geth either stumbling back or falling down. She then switched her hands and wrists over and began engaging with her Seven-Five, taking another two out with her _pistolo_. Damn that Blue had some balls and some fast hands.

Vega briefly wondered what else those hands could do.

A vomit of electrical energy being spewed out as he fired scared the shit out of James as he side-stepped towards the defensive position, seeing the Quarian lady using what looked to be a (holy fucking shit!) plasma/electric _flamethrower_ and nuking about half-a-dozen Geth at once, arcs of electricity just bouncing off their forms and frames and causing them drop with their lights out. Where the fuck could he get one of those! The Marines in the team were firing in heavy bursts, switching off in pairs to keep up a volume of fire while letting the others cool down their weapons when a Salarian popped out with a glowing OmniTool and fired twelve little glowing orbs that flew out like fireflies and proceeded to blow everything up in front of them, knocking Geth around.

Holy fuck. The movies weren't lying!

"Blue! Get your teams' ass down the chute! We got this!" James shouted as he cooled down his Marshal, needing several seconds to force-vent the drum as he pulled out his Colt Arms Python and put six rounds from the revolver-styled pistol into a Geth Destroyer, bringing it down. The SPECTRE looked over her shoulder for a second as she continued to transition fire her pistols like some Human gunslinger, switching back and forth between her Mammothkiller and her Seven-Five, never once using her Biotics. Huh.

" _T'soni! Give me a singularity right in the middle!"_ The Blue called out, and another Asari popped up and threw a glob of bluish energy towards the center of the Frisbee where it began to spin and implode, starting to suck anything nearby that was lightweight or not connected to anything. Several of the Geth were getting pulled into the vortex, losing their footing and going airborne in a strange sort of circular tornado, at least seven or so spinning about lazily as they circled the ball of bluish energy. Vega focused on the several or so that weren't pulled up and in as _Adios_ cursed, a spray of blood coming from her right forearm as she continued to fire. _"Team! Suppress and exit!"_ The first one up was Doc, half-carrying the Human with the Munition Launcher in his left hand as the not-SPECTRE Asari raised up her hands in a defensive fashion, a ribbon of blue energy appearing before her, obviously to cover their escape. The Salarian was engaging with a heavy battle rifle, its deep-throated three-shot burst devastating as the Quarian called her turrets to her, the cute little guys still firing as they went back to their owner. James laced up a Trooper that was firing at them as the Marine Corporal tackled another Pyro unit with her Marshal as the Marines filed out firing in staccato bursts as the SPECTRE team filed down towards the stairs. The SPECTRE herself was still transition-firing with no cover, her wrists swapping with whichever gun she was using; first the Mammothkiller, then the Seven-Five, then back to the Mammothkiller. Her body jerked a few times as her shields fizzled out and rounds struck her armor, but she kept on fighting.

" _Adios!_ Get Blue!" Vega ordered as he stepped forward and began laying waste, firing his Marshal in one long burst of fire as he swept back-and-forth like a sprinkler, engaging as many as possible as everyone filed down the stairs, James walking backwards and firing as he felt a round hit his shoulder but not penetrate; his shields were gone. Before he left the scene of the battle, he saw the vortex of Geth still in effect, and he snorted as he plucked a grenade off his belt with his right hand and tossed it towards the obvious target.

The grenade went off… and everything blew the fuck up.

Vega was knocked back against the wall of the waiting area hard, knocking the breath out of him as he almost fell down the stairs, staggering back up and leveling his Marshal to engage… nothing? Wisps of remaining blue energy ribboned and fainted away as burning debris fell onto the Frisbee with _tangs_ and _clangs_ of metal-on-metal. Santa mierda, _that's Geth_ , the Marine Lieutenant realized as pieces fell onto the Landing Grid, smoldering and burning. There were no platforms left on the platform.

"Well… that worked." Vega sniffed as he went down the stairs to join everyone else.

Things were starting to look up.

* * *

Seaman Monica Negulesco was patching upon one of the Marines who had come to aid them in the fight against the Geth on the Landing Grid, the woman having removed her rerebrace and bracer off of her left arm to expose the wound. Monica winced at the sight of an in-and-out; that's what Chief Ryder called them. The round had penetrated through the Marines' shield, had hit the armor in her forearm, and penetrated right through, burying fragments of her armor into her flesh as well as the bullet. Thankfully, the round went right through her arm and out the other end, burying itself on the other side of the bracers' armor. That meant the Corpsman wasn't going to have to cut open a small incision and extract the round before suturing the wound close. A quick look with her Medical Monitoring Device showed there to be at least a dozen slivers of metal in the womans' arm, though none were bigger than splinters.

"Okay, you've got tiny metal fragments in your arm, Corporal, but no round, it went clean through." There was now a world of difference in Seaman Negulesco from _before_ the Battle of LaGrange Point Two and _after_. Before, the worst she had ever seen was a sprain. After? She had been pulling out pieces that were close to the skin out of Sailors as they grinned and bore it, suturing wounds and setting bones. And she didn't even have the bad cases; Chief Ryder had taken those, having the most experience as a CitEMS Paramedic and a Navy Corpsman. Before, she was a little unsure what she would do if something 'bad' happened. Now?

Now she was motherfricking Doc Nugee, and people were counting on her.

"Just patch me up, Doc. I ain't worried about a couple bits o' metal." The female Corporal replied, her accent thick. It took a moment or two for Monica to place it, having been born and raised on Elysium. United North American States of Mexico, she guessed. And like any true Marine, the woman probably griped about blisters and bit her tongue with serious wounds. Just like Chief told her. She wondered if the red bandanna around her forehead was suppose to mean something or just make her look tougher.

"Okay, your call, Corporal." Negulesco replied as TEAM LION and their two brash cavalrymen in the form of machine gun-toting Marines took five by the door that served as the access of the interior of the Storm Wall protecting Hadley's Hope. Geth hadn't bothered them during their escape down the Landing Grid platform or across the area that went from the base of the platform to the access for the door, code-locked and controlled by the Space Traffic Control Tower in the interior of the town. The big Marine Lieutenant had punched the access to call out his name and service number to gain access, and Monica realized that it wasn't being controlled by a VI, but by a person, probably a hardline. The Marines had found ways around Geth hacking. There were a couple of wounds to the team during the fight, but nothing super serious, thankfully. 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko had taken a round through his right _trapezeus_ muscle, and the Marine squatting in front of her had taken a round through her arm. Others had been hit when their shields failed, but their armor held. Doc would look over them when she was done with the real wounds and make sure no one had any lingering or hidden injuries. Negulesco put away her Medical Monitoring Device into her MedBag, packed and inventoried by both herself and Chief Ryder, as she pulled out an old-fashion suture kit. Late-22nd Century, and it was still the best way to close wounds, Monica thought to herself as she dabbled a little bit of MediGel from its tube onto her finger and pressed it into the exit wound of the Corporals' arm, getting the _Latina_ woman to suck in a breath but that was it.

"Color preference?" That had the Marine look at the Corpsman as Negulesco took a pair of hemostats to the needle and another pair of sticks to pinch the wound close while she sutured. Monica noticed the glare as she slipped in the suture thread through the eye and took the sticks to pinch the wound close neat and tight; just like in the Medical Education and Training Campus in Lowell City, Mars. "Not much of a talker? Seems like most Marines won't shut up around a woman. Trying too hard to be impressive."

"Don't swing your way, Doc." The Corporal grunted, being gruff as Negulesco took the suture and pieced through muscle to close up the inner wound first. The Marine just flexed her jaw and took it like a champ. She looked for a second to see what the others were doing, and she saw Marse Collins with her helmet off, like everyone else, talking to an older woman in Onyx Medium Armor; Monica guessed that to be the Colonel. She went back to her work, pulling thread and suturing the wound.

"So got a name? Or should I grunt every time I see you and save the trouble?" Monica asked with a smile. She was already on her third suture of seven. Thankfully, gunshot wounds, while messy, could be closed up pretty quickly.

"It's Vasquez." The _Latina_ looked to her, her lips pursed from the pain from the sutures as she took in a deep breath and fumbled for something inside of a hardcase pocket of her armor. Much to Monica's annoyance, the woman fished a cigarette out and lit the end of it with an old-school Zippo, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Corporal Jeanette Vasquez."

* * *

Author's Notes: Told you it was a siege. Who's biting their fingernails?

Copyright stuff.

Breaking Benjamin's _Blow Me Away_ (not that one with the chick singer that made the band break up. (They... broke Benjamin?)

Motley Crue's _Shout At The Devil!_

The Cobra RPG is a weapon from Andromeda, a consumable one can use along with Incendiary Ammo and Shield Capacitors. Here, it is minifabricated on the spot, attached to an OmniTool, and launched electromagnetically like an arm crossbow… with a rocket on the back and an explosive warhead.

Base Jump - I'm not sure the altitude of a base jump. But I describe it as ELAELO; Extreme Low Altitude Extreme Low Opening. One of the N courses is, in fact, a jump-jet course.

The jump jets that you see in Andromeda were actually an idea I had for the _Mass Effect vs. Aliens_ series, to be known as 'Jump-Assisting Boosters' that would propel someone upward/forward to a certain height, and then flare again to limit impact upon landing, often propelling the person forward towards a running landing instead of having them hover over ground like a fresh, ripe target. While I'm going back to that original idea (Jannie's mentioned it before that N7's had jump jets back on Therum), I'm letting you know that they aren't exactly like the ones from Andromeda, though they are similar.

I mention that the Lieutenant Colonial in charge of the Marines is Samantha 'Sam' Hulick. This is actually a little bit of a joke. Sam Hulick is one of the score composers of the Mass Effect series.

Hi, James. Thank you for not showing up late in the series. (Yes, it is _that_ James Vega)

Who knew that it was Jeanette Vasquez from _Aliens_ before I fully introduced her? Chances are, if you've ever read my _Mass Effect vs. Aliens_ series or even _The Hale/Meer Chronicles_ , you'd know that I've used Vasquez on more than a few occasions. The M-56 Marshal was the Mass Effect version of the M-56 Smart Gun from _Aliens_ , converted for the MEU in the _ValkyrieVerse_. Since James likes to give everyone nicknames, I stuck with the obvious for Vasquez; _Adios_. As for the battlecry that Vasquez lets off? It's the same painted on her armor, and while literally translated means 'the risk never die', it truly translates to _Fortune Favors The Bold_ or _Who Dares, Wins_. And, as a side note? Jeanette Goldstein is actually _not_ a _Latino_ ; they died her hair, darkened her up, and gave her contacts for the movie. Huh. She actually got the part because the name of the movie (Aliens) led her to believe it would be about _illegal_ aliens and not extraterrestrial ones (which Bill Paxton references in the movie as a joke), and had dressed and acted like a tough _Latina_ woman from the streets of LA. Obvious, she did something right as she was nominated for several awards and earned herself the Saturn Award for Best Supporting Actress in her very first movie.

The maker of the ECS-10 Modulus Assault Rifle is named Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms… or NERF. The NERF ECS-10 Modulus is, in fact, a NERF Weapon with a series of attachments that turn a $40 dart gun into a $80 dart gun. It can be changed to a sniper platform, have a carrying handle, and tactical scope (for those really long 45ft/13m shots) and other cool guy shit. Seen in _Where The Lase Stands Tall_ and _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ , this was (and still is) Marse Collins' main rifle. In _Where The Law Stands Tall_ , she plucks it off the corpse of a slaver she kills when her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms 2169 Lawbringer Battle Rifle (a non-lethal weapon… and another NERF gun) doesn't cut the cheddar on Revan.

Sam mentions why she was selected for the Office of Special Tactics; she has the unique ability to look upon unreadable relay data and 'recognize' ships through their weight, mass, energy output, and several other facts, not fooled by name changes or claims. She can 'see' where a ship went to, and if they use another relay, she can track a recognized ship from _any_ Relay-to-Relay travel _anywhere in the galaxy_ with proper access. In the OST, she is known as 'the shiphunter'. In the undone story "The Fury Of Our Makers' Hand", a portion was to involve Sam Collins doing just this; tracking a shadow organization known as CHAOS through the means of tracking vessel when both Salarian Councilors (the lame duck and the incoming) are both assassinated at the same time by, of all things, a SPECTRE Agent. CHAOS was to be the antithesis of SPECTRE. Sam was to run the STARS Detachment that, while _a_ SPECTRE Office, didn't report to them; there were traitors in the OST, and the SPECTRE Commandant orders Sam to 'cut the rot out' known that Collins would never be a part of it (being both new _and_ Human).

Would Mass Effect weaponry have bullet drop? In physics, yes; everything has resistance (see Newton's Laws) and anywhere with gravity will mean that gravity will eventually win. The games had a sort of 'engagement limit' on how far one could fire, generally seen in Andromeda (I think the furthest I've ever shot something in that game was around 300m). This is nothing for even a basic hunting rifle, and easily doable with an assault rifle of the modern era, even with iron sights (the Army drills us at maximum of 300m, and the Marines go for 500). The Modulus is the M-4 of the Mass Effect world. Now you might mention that engaging a 800m target with something like an M-4 is silly; no, it's not. I've taken Known Distant Ranges with an M-4 and an ACOG and hit a 800m target 3/5 times, and was one out of four who could hit a 800m target with a weapon whose point target range is 350-400m and suppressive range is set at 500m. And the math that Sam did? Nowhere near correct. I'm not boring you with deals an actual sniper would know, considering I don't and am not one.

In ME:A, you could set off combos with Tech, Fire, and Biotics, which is what Vega did with a grenade. Yes, they don't detonate combos (for some reason) but I made it here where they do.

The Medical Monitoring Device - I know I used it on Seaman Cave to announce her pregnancy, but I didn't explain what this was. Really, its more along the lines of the Medical Tricorder from Star Trek, offering different options to view a body, such as X-Ray, ultrasound, and even short-band MRI.

I've never sutured anybody. Stapled? Yes. Sewed? Yes. Done it properly? No. I've even superglued and duct taped wounds together. We're a bit messy when we're cut open and spilling apart, let me tell you.


	32. The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, II

" _Nuke 'em from orbit. It's the only way to be sure." - Flight Lieutenant Ellen Ripley, LV-426 (Acheron), July 24, 2179_

 **Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 10, 2183**

There were times when Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder was glad that she wasn't in charge. Oh, it wasn't that she didn't _want_ to be in charge. That would be nice, but she was more than smart enough to know that the higher one got, the thicker the politics became. And the thicker the politics, the stronger the need to throttle the shit out of someone's neck.

Case in point? Hadley's Hopes' resident buffoon-in-charge, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulick.

The Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit had been on Feros for about a month, ever since the wake of Eden Prime. Deployed to guard the colonial mining town _and_ the corporate colonial headquarters of the ExoGeni Corporation, a company that specialized in planetary exploration and colonization. Sara knew the name; they were in fact one of the first companies to fund Commander Jon Ulysses Grissom and his team to find habitable planets past the Charon Relay. When her father, Lieutenant Alec Clancy Ryder, landed on the first world found to have reasonably breathable air and decent environment, he named it Demeter and planted a flag upon the first world ever walked upon by a Human Being outside the solar system, forever labeling him 'the Pathfinder'. ExoGeni had been one of the companies to capitalize upon the effort and spread the propaganda to spark interests in space frontiers. Her Dad had actually worked for ExoGeni for more than a couple of years… and Sara actually had stock in the company thanks to her Dad investing in shares and placing them in a trust fund. ExoGeni was responsible for the creation of Hadley's Hope and the colonization of Feros, obvious here to monopolize and cash in on any Prothean discoveries on a planet covered in Prothean ruins, singing songs about mineral wealth and Eezo rushes to clueless would-be miners who would be pawing at the ground for months if not years for scraps while the corporation raked in billions. That was just the way the galaxy ran.

Until someone went and put a Marine in charge, and said Marine instituted martial law.

"So, let me get this straight," Captain Jane Catherine Shepard was rubbing at the bridge of her nose, obviously fighting something off; a headache or the need to throttle someone. "You instituted _martial law_ on an entire colony _before_ everything went to shit without any orders or directives doing so. The colony's infrastructure is _fucked_ because said civilians you are oppressing were in the middle of revolting against you because you're a heavy-handed _cunt_ who used five hundred Marines to stamp around on a thousand civilians' rights? And then the Geth show up? How am I doing so far?"

Colonel Hulick looked fit enough to chew through a block of depleted Eezo. But she didn't say a word for two _very_ good reasons.

"Now we've got Geth here, and you're fighting a two-sided front; the synthetics who want to kill you, and the people who want to kill you and have every right to do so." Auntie was about a centimeter from the Marine Commanding Officers' face, her voice scathing as they practically bumped noses. Sara knew what was wrong. Oh, more so than the multiple violations of the Systems Alliance Charter pertaining to the duties and abilities of the Military while on colonies. As a safeguard against oppression and tyranny, the Systems Alliance Navy and Marine Corps didn't have any kind of powers on colonies except in a time of war or when martial law was instituted. But martial law was invoked by a colonies' _Frontier Marshal_ , who was nowhere in sight, either. Hadley's Hope didn't have a Colonial Army detachment or an Air Force one, being too small, but had garrisoned a small militia from the population. They too were nowhere in sight. Add in the fact that there wasn't enough food to feed the people on Hadley's Hope (the Marines had supplies but weren't sharing), enough water (again, no sharing), the power had been not only shut off but the power core removed, it all looked to be like someone got a little too much power in their head and began running a military dictatorship. It had shitstorm written all over it in broad strokes.

There was barely any supplies to be had from the shattered Fourth and the Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla, only enough to feed the remaining Marines for a week before resupply came. There was certainly no more Marines to be had, either.

The last time Sara had seen Auntie this mad was… well, back when Detective Garrus Vakarian was carrying her back after being missing for a week after the Red Harvest Incident. Sara thought Auntie was going to murder Garrus on the spot.

"Marshal Collins? Arrest this piece of _shit_ in front of me for multiple breaches and violations of the Charter and get _it_ out of my sight soonest." Auntie was pissed; really pissed. Pissed enough to pull a gun and shoot the Colonel in front of her in front of God and Alliance Marines. The entirety of TEAM LION was there in front of the Space Traffic Control Tower, as well as about a dozen or so Marines. No one was doing or saying anything because _Captain_ Shepard outranked _Lieutenant Colonel_ Hulick not only by rank in the Systems Alliance Military, but due to the fact that even they knew that she was Humanity's First SPECTRE and thus a bad idea to cross the Lion of Elysium. Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins had no issues complying as she drew her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver at a speed that all Sara saw was _blur_ as the buntline barrel was pointed right at the Colonel in question, very red in the face and seemingly chewing her own tongue before saying anything that would cross that very thin, very dangerous line. No one was on the Colonels' side, and everyone knew it, including the woman in question.

"You know the drill, LC." Sam drawled as her right hand produced a pair of SnapCuffs, the Mammothkiller never wavering at all. "You and I are going to have a nice little chat inquiring the whereabouts of the Marshal of Feros and her Deputies." Ouch. Colonel Hulick hadn't been too happy to see Sam Collins with a Turians' clan markings all over her face. Ryder had a good idea how that conversation would go; _unpleasantly_. The Butcher wasn't very gentle when she approached the woman and forcibly turned her around, reaching and grabbing a thumb and wrenching the Marines' arm behind her back in a standard arresting procedure. "Other arm, or I break fingers. You won't be needed them anytime soon." The Corpsman winced but said nothing.

Colonel Hulick had done worse to the populous of Hadley's Hope. Ryder had no remorse whatsoever.

Lieutenant Colonel and Marshal leaving the area of the Space Traffic Control Tower, Jannie took a big breath and sighed, looking at the people around her. Most were TEAM LION, but there were several who were not. The Marines just watched their Battalion Commander get arrested right before their eyes, and some of them had been complicit in her orders, while others had done so to avoid judicial or non-judicial punishment. Jannie had every reason to be mad; this was a fucking mess.

"Lieutenant Vega!" Shepard called out, and a hulk of a Marine came forward, cradling a Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun in a carrying position, vertical with the barrel pointed down. He had been working in the Tactical Operation Center with the Colonel as the Battle Captain. "El-Tee, I need to know what we've got for command structure, forces, food distribution, water distribution, power and supplies. In that order."

"Ma'am, I can answer all of those in just one word; _shit_." The bulky _Latino_ man replied, shaking his head. "We've got a wounded Captain with a headshot he hasn't woken up from, some First Lieutenant who rants and screams gibberish most the time, and two Second Lieutenants, which I'm one o' 'em." Shit, they were suppose to have a Lieutenant Colonel, a Major, four Captain, six First Lieutenants, and ten Second Lieutenants at the very least, probably a couple more for other command positions that didn't involve running Marine Companies. "We got a hundred and fifty vertical, and seventy-five horizontal. Rest ain't comin' back, ma'am." Half of the Marines were _dead_. "Been trying to treat the wounded, but…" Vega's eyes darted to Sara for a moment. "You're the only one with Corpsmen, ma'am. Rest died saving their Marines."

"Fuck." Shepard let off a sigh, shaking her head sadly. Sara felt her heart grow cold at that. Every Marine Platoon had a Corpsman, and there were two Platoons per Company. The Fourth Expeditionary _should_ have at least ten, probably plussed up with a few Hospital Corpsman for an on-site Dispensary for the smaller things. Ryder had went to the Field Medical Training Battalion in Fort Richardson, Alaska with a class of fifty. Her heart ached at the thought that she might have known some of them. _Died saving Marines_ , Lieutenant Vega had said. They had done their duty, but had died doing so.

"Ma'am?" Sara stepped in, knowing where he place _should_ be. "Let me render assistance. Doc Nugee is good, but this would likely overwhelm her." Ryder knew that the colony of Hadley's Hope wasn't the main effort; it was whatever the Geth sought. "I've trained just about every member of TEAM LION to bring them up to speed on their own species, and gone over the basics for the sapients we do have, more than enough to keep someone alive during a crucial time. If we left these men and these colonists without any medical provider whatsoever…" Jannie frowned, but slowly nodded her head.

"You're right, Doc." The Lion let out a sigh, knowing what had to be done. "Lieutenant Vega, I am leaving _you_ in charge of the colony and its defenses. You were good enough to be the Battle Captain…"

"Um…" The large _Latino_ man looked a little sheepish. "Actually, Colonel was shit-canning me. Insubordination." Shepard just looked at him with her green eyes never blinking. "Didn't join to smack civilians around. _Adios_ , too." He jerked his head towards a female Corporal who was also at sling-arms with a M-56 Marshal. "She got mouthy when the Colonel asked us to force the civilians into the main building, refused. Most of us you see here," James looked to the Marines that were around TEAM LION, "had issues with the treatment. Refused, told the Colonel to fuck off, that kind of thing." James shook his head. "We got sent to babysittin' duty while she was going to frag us with Court-Marshals and then had the rest of the Marines use force to get the miners and civilians into the main building. That… did not go well."

"How many?" The SPECTRE asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her tone sounded exhausted, and Sara's heart went out to her.

"Forty-two dead, another thirty-one wounded for the civilians." Vega replied, his tone disgusted. "That was because some dingbat decided to fuck with the atmospherics in our temporary billets, ma'am. Yeah, destruction of colonial property and all… but that ain't worth using bullets on unarmed men and women, even during a time of martial law, proper or not."

"Jesus, can anything get fucking worse here?" The redhead shook her head. "Lieutenant Vega, under the authority given to me by the Systems Alliance as well as the Council of Law, I pardon you and whomever you think worth it of said charges. Take command of the colony and its defenses, and I'll leave you with authority to do as you see fit _as long as_ it is something closely considered right and proper. This is a time of war, so there's no need to shoot the very people we're suppose to protect unless they're about to do something really fucking stupid that gets others killed. Understood?

" _Yes, ma'am!"_ There was fire and passion in his voice as Vega almost saluted, but quickly changed to rubbing his head along his short hair. One wasn't suppose to salute on the battlefield to disguise the chain-of-command against wartime assassination. It seemed impossible, but he seemed to stand even taller, Sara noted with some amusement, as if he wasn't already closer to being twenty centimeters taller than herself. "You goin' out to fuck up Geth?"

"Whatever the Geth objective is, it isn't here. Otherwise everyone would be dead." Auntie replied, making the Lieutenant nod. "These pushes were merely to keep your men in place while the rest of the Geth forces sought out whatever it is they want. We're going to action to it and take it for ourselves, or deny it from them forever. In the meantime, I am going to leave you some key personnel to help your situation Lieutenant. Can't afford much, but I'm going to give you what I can. Doc Ryder and Marshal Collins will stay here for the obvious reasons; you need someone who can help the wounded, and Marshal Collins can help get the people into a better state of mind and hopefully something resembling the right direction. I'm also going to leave you two high-caliber riflemen that are also snipers; Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, and Agent Zevin Raeka. Utilize them to get your men and the colony back on its feet, Lieutenant."

"Make a suggestion, ma'am?" Vega jerked his head once more.

"Take _Adios_ wit' you."

Sara watched as Captain Shepard looked to the female Marine in question, who looked a little uncomfortable with being singled out, a cigarette dangling from one hand.

"She didn't participate in any o' the _mierde_. Plus, she's the finest gunner we got." Vega continued. "She's been on Feros for a month, has done foot patrols, knows the area, knows the traps, and knows the sinkholes. If you can't trust the electronics, then you're gonna need a guide to get you where I think you're headin'. Vasquez is a good scout, smart, tough, and takes shit off o' no one. 'Sides," James shrugged his shoulders, "she owes the Geth. Why waste the opportunity?"

"You want in?" Auntie asked the _Latina_ , who merely snorted and tossed the cigarette to the ground.

"I only need to know one thing, ma'am." Corporal Vasquez said as she patted her Marshal lovingly.

" _Where they are."_

* * *

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams watched as the General Dynamics' M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle took off towards the east, heading towards one of the on-ramps that would lead towards a massive ruins of a Prothean supercity in that direction, where supposedly the ExoGeni Corporation had made its headquarters and base camp for their portion of the colonization effort. The destination was something like a hundred kilometers away, which struck the Colonial Soldier as odd; why have a headquarters and a spaceport so far apart? Any corporate personnel coming to Feros would have to come through Hadley's Hope, the only spaceport in the entire damn planet since it was one of the very few locations large enough and stable enough to place a small colonial effort on. Ash was surprised to learn from one of the Marines that Hadley's Hope was actually on _solid ground_ ; that shocked her for a moment.

How fucking far up were they when Williams took that to mean that they had built a colony on top of a mountain?

"Ashley?" The Soldier turned at the sound of Agent Zevin Raeka's voice, seeing the female Salarian not-Dalatrass approaching her casually, her dark eyes sweeping everything as they stood in the 'middle' of the town, the main boulevard for the colony of Hadley's Hope. The drilled and bulldozing equipment that would normally clutter a construction area (in which the whole town looked to be one) had been used to make the walls to protect the town, and the Marines hadn't been shy in using the heavy equipment as part of the walls themselves, heavy scoops and large mechanical vehicle bodies serving as defenses. Ash would have _loved_ to gone into battle driving some of those pieces of heavy machinery, riding in like the cavalry of old in a thirty ton bucket-driver or bulldozer. A vision of flattening Geth while cackling with glee put a small smile to her face as she shook off the vision and paid attention to the Salarian. "Lieutenant Vega is reworking the manning roster?" Ash knew what that meant, though Raeka obviously didn't judging by the tone of her voice. "He said the civilians were enclosed in the Colonial Quarters of the main building, giving the people billets. While he would like to open the door and give a peek inside…"

"Yeah." As she understood it, the Marines of the Fourth Expeditionary had _crushed_ the civilians here on Hadley's Hope, practically taking over and installing a military dictatorship overnight. She didn't doubt that there was more to the story than that; some resistance and loud voices on the behalf of the population, a Frontier Marshal that probably didn't exactly play ball, a few drunken losers who probably thought Marines would make a good impromptu dartboard for their drunken aggression or sexual advances. Eden Prime had its charm between the people of Constant and the Eden Prime Colonial Army, sometimes tempers popping off or things escalating to bad levels. All one had to do was look in a history book to see that Humanity and authority didn't exactly mesh to well to a certain extent. It was a sad note to see that sometimes a civilian populous would turn on its very defenders and protectors for the dumbest of reasons.

Of course, the opposite was also very true, too. It was in those very same history books, after all.

Williams knew what 2nd Lieutenant James Vega was worried about, and he wasn't without cause. A thousand civilians had been pushed and locked into the main colony building of Hadley's Hope somewhere around a week ago… at gunpoint, with gunfire. Cracking the door open would likely show nine hundred pissed-off civilians spoiling for a fight when the defenders had a hundred and fifty who were trying to defend the colony against the Geth. It was almost a better idea to keep them indoors; they would be protected, out of the line of fire, and not doing anything stupid. Unfortunately, that was where tyranny started, and who was to say when things would blow over? It could be another week or so, and the civilians had only been given about ten days' worth of food and water. Expecting a bunch of angry people to distribute food and water evenly and rationally was like asking a sun not to be hot during a summer season.

"Doc has a solution."

"Of course." Williams smiled, thinking about Doc Sara Ryder. That girl had a solution for practically _everything_. Pity she was taken in a committed relationship, but Ash respected that. Sara was alone in that, the Soldier admitted to herself.

"There is a radio communication protocol to the main building in which Colonel Hulick had shut down." Raeka said, and Ash was already beginning to fill in the blanks. "Sara wants to open a dialog, explain what's going on, find out appropriate requests from the civilians while reminding them that this is an active warzone and staying in the main building is certainly of better choice than being out in the open." It also had the added benefit of not opening the door to a mob; that went unsaid, but it hung between them. "Sam will be there, and the Marshal said she will act in the civilians' behalf, explaining to them the situation and scenarios so to limit confusion, panic, and hopefully any terrible decisions."

"There will be issues, but that's about as good a plan as any." Williams would be hard-pressed to come up with better. Hell, knowing how smart Sara was, and likely Sam, despite being a cowboy cop, was likely nearly as smart with a great deal of experience along these lines, to boot, Ash doubted she'd _ever_ come up with anything better. "I got some smoke configurations and a couple of incapacitates configurations for my grenades in case things go a little sour. Not a fan of it, but I'd rather tear gas someone and apologize later than have to shoot someone while they're rioting." Raeka's nictitating eyelids blinked twice.

"You've done this before." The Salarian voiced, her tone neither accusatory or demeaning. That was nice, but damn the Salarian for being so observant. What did she expect out of a STG Agent? _Not_ to read a Human?

"Yeah. Not a fun-filled subject I'd like to get into." The Colonial Soldier replied, wishing she _wasn't_ reminded of an incident about four years back. She had seen riots before; they never ended well, and the result was _always_ ugly.

"I understand." The not-Dalatrass replied, nodding her head respectfully. "In response to your use of non-lethal grenades, I also have non-lethal measures if required; a very minor neural toxin that will render a subject unconscious for several hours in a painless sleep. It comes in a dart delivery system I programmed myself." There was a hint of pride there, Ash noticed. Well, Raeka was pretty much a soldier-spy, wasn't she? She found a way to take down targets without killing them. Williams wasn't going to ask _why_ when she had shut the door for the question towards herself. "The Marshal and Ryder are going to be heading towards the compound, and I believe it to be a good idea if we were to watch over them. The last thing we need is a hostage situation." Yeah, no kidding. If the Skipper found out someone had kidnapped Sara and did anything to her? She'd go absolutely _apeshit_ , and there was really very little anyone could plausible do to stop her, legally or even morally. Hostage-takers were generally killed on the spot for very good reasons, and Ash doubted anyone wanted to find themselves on the wrong side of a gun with the Lion of Elysium ready to pull the trigger if she thought you were just better off dead. The Skipper was a good woman, no doubt in Williams' mind, but when it came to family?

Everyone went a little crazy.

"Where's Doc and Marse at now?"

"Marshal Collins has finished interrogating the Colonel." The Salarian replied, and Ash winced a little, not wishing to be a fly on the wall for _that_ conversation. The Marshal of Feros, one Teresa Aquila, and her seven Deputies were nowhere in sight, and 2nd Lieutenant James Vega had admitted that the Marshal and her men had been deposed during the first week of the Marines' arrival. According to new Commanding Officer of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit, the Marshal and her Deputies had been loaded onto a shuttle at gunpoint after Marines had stacked-and-breeched the Marshal's Office and captured them all, dumping them off in some location nearly a hundred kilometers away in a region known as 'the Quagmire', known for its crumbling ruins and threat of building collapse amongst the near planetary-wide Prothean city. Likely, they were dead from lack of surprise or the many hazards that existed on Feros. Sam had _not_ been happy to hear that at all, and Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulick didn't realize that Sam Collins was a Level Two Clandestine-Level Council Agent; the Colonel could be brought up on charges under the Uniformed Code of Military Justice or the Council Law of Sapient Rights. Neither would go well for her. While the Butcher didn't have the all-inclusive 'Council Authority' card that the Skipper had, she certainly had a lot of leeway.

"Doc Ryder is looking upon the Marine casualties, working on the ones she said would be fit-for-duty first before moving onto the more injured of your kind." What Raeka didn't mention was that there were no more real 'critical' casualties. With no Naval Surgeon, Navy Corpsman, or even civilian Health Care Provider on-hand, many Marines had died without anyone with extensive knowledge to care for their wounds. First Aid courses and Combat Life Saver courses were oriented towards stopping bleeding and a few other life-saving techniques to get a man to a MEDEVAC or a Corpsman or Medic who were much more qualified. But pierced lungs, internal bleeding, shattered bones, and tourniquet limbs needed proper medical attention and intervention, and none were to be had. Hundreds had died of their wounds without any care. It was heart-wrenching. "I believe Marse is with Doc." Ash noted that the not-Dalatrass had adopted the Human terms, calling a Marshal 'Marse', an old-Earth term to mean the Master of Property, and calling Petty Officer Ryder 'Doc' after her profession. Well, it wasn't like Ash hadn't picked up a term or two from the Turian sniper Detective Garrus Vakarian or their resident STG Agent. Thanks to Niki'Raan nar Reyya, Williams could swear pretty damn well in _Kheelish_ , too.

"Well, let's link up with them." The Sergeant First Class tipped her head towards the location that the Marine casualties were kept; the bar, of all places. It had been the largest singular room location in the colony, it was in the center of town, and no one (civilian or Marine) was missing the neon sign displaying 'BAR' over its door, with tiny neon letters ' _and grill_ ' underneath, as if in afterthought. Pity it wasn't open; Ash could use a drink. Instead, she stuck an Eden Prime Classic in her mouth, lighting the end of her cigar with her OmniTools' heating App, puffing a few times to get the stogie going as the Salarian watched her, completely unreadable. Probably thought dirty thoughts about the habit. Williams did a quick tap-check of her weapons (as was her habit) to make sure everything was in its proper place and mag-lock'ed appropriately before heading down Hadley's Hope sole boulevard, the main road graced by swat two-story buildings on either side with a few covered overpasses stretching over the ten meter-wide street for both people and loading equipment to use. The boots of her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor thumped through the dusty unpaved street, seeing a few surviving Marines positioned on the roofs of the various buildings as overwatch, keeping an eye out for any Geth advances and to direction Quick Reaction Forces towards any fighting. Skipper had put them here to give Vega a hand (which Ash completely got) but the situation was fifty shades of ugly, no doubt about it. Civil oppression was an ugly scenario to walk into, and there was generally no great way to deal with it, just a series of bad decisions one prayed would be less terrible then the rest. Ash didn't envy the Lieutenant at all. She'd rather face a Battalion of Geth than deal with the politics and fallout of a Charter Violation.

Williams reached the BAR with Agent Zevin in tow, the Salarian wisely keeping to her Human shipmates on the Human colony, the Colonial Soldier noting more than a few Marines eying the Salarian as she marched right behind Ash, their faces suspicious and distrustful. Ash wanted to blister their asses with verbal abuse, reminding them of _whom_ had shot unarmed civilians during a time of war, their _own_ civilians. Raeka didn't earn nor deserve the looks…

…shit, Ash realized that she would get face-to-face with a Marine for the sake of an alien.

Just over a month ago, she would have called herself a race traitor. Now?

 _I fight with them, I eat with them, I joke and shoot the shit with them_ , Williams thought to herself as she headed towards the Hadley's Hope's Bar and Grill, giving her cigar a thoughtful puff. _I've fought off assassins with them, a bar full of scum, Geth and Husks._ _A year ago, I would have_ never _worked alongside a Krogan or a Turian._

Now?

 _I'd kill for any one of them. I'd_ die _for any one of them._

Maybe Sara was right; Humanity could stand to grow up a little.

* * *

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins (SAMS, OST) held the hand of a Private of the Systems Alliance Marine Corps, the young man whimpering as she kept his head looking towards her blue Autistic eyes, an eighteen year old kid whimpering hard, calling out for his mother. She held his hand, saying soothing words as if any were actually soothing, as if there were any real words to be said. The Marine, the nametag on his Aldrin Labs' Onyx Interceptor Armor saying 'James' but the kid saying his first name was Frank, was trying to hold back the tears, knowing what was happening but Sam keeping him from looking as the Angel plied her bloody trade; an act any battlefield surgeon or medic would know well in wars and battles in the years and centuries prior. Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder was hard at work, her attention completely on the task at hand, the Angel never letting her emotions take over, ignoring all around her. Sam's heart went out to oh-so-young woman who reenacted the old term for a battlefield surgeon; Sawbones.

She was amputating the Marine's right arm. Sam was holding his left hand.

The Marine whimpered again, the local anesthesia numbing any pain he might have felt but never numbing the sound of metal rasping against flesh as Ryder used a series of tools for the job, the arm tourniquet above the wound that had gone septic; even Collins knew the sight of gangrene. The young man had a bullet pierce through his armor and arm, the round shattering his humerus bone as it went in and out. Fragments of armor and bone pierced through the meat of his arm, dozens of splinters that had opened up his arm and torn through flesh and sinew, exposing the interior of his arm to the dusty, foreign environment of Feros. Even on Earth, sepsis and biological contamination were a realistic concern. But on a planet that Humans hadn't evolved on, foreign contamination took on a scarier bent. While might have taken days or weeks could take hours or less on a planet like Feros. Less than two days after being shot, Private James had developed gangrene, and there was only one cure even in the late 22nd Century; removal of limb.

Sara was using a pair of forceps and and a tissue knife to surgically cut through flesh and sinew as cleanly as she could. She was humming a song as she worked, to cover the noise of her work, perhaps for herself or for her patient, an old Earth Country and Western song that even Sam knew. The bone-handled knife went down as Sara finished cutting through the bicep muscle, taking the forceps and a thin blade for the ligaments. As the Marshal understood it, the bone was saved for last. Ryder continued to hum as the Marine whimpered, forced to look at Sam as the Council Agent too began to hum to the tune over two hundred years old, made popular once more by colonization efforts by Human Beings. The words came to her, and Sam began to sing softly.

" _Blue Ridge Mountain, Shanandoa River,"_ the Marshal sang softly, the Marine looking to her with brown eyes threatened with tears as Sara continued to cut, _"life is older there, older than the trees. Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze."_ The Marines' hand tightened around hers, gripping her tight as his words were added to hers.

" _Country roads, take me home,  
_ _To the place I belong.  
_ _West Virginia, mountain momma,  
_ _Take me home… country roads."_

Sam put a smile on her face, listening to James' voice warbling as she saw Chief set down the thin blade and pick up a saw; the final cut. Sam kept her eyes dry, thinking of her bondmate as she sang softly, holding onto the Marine as she did. They had all lost something, yet she would be strong for this Marine, in his moment of need as his right arm was removed expertly. Collins didn't look as she saw in her peripheral that something had in fact been removed; no, Frank didn't need to know. Sara had cut so that there were two flaps of skin for her to sew over the stump as she began to close the skin up, stitching the wound close to prevent any further loss of limb or blood. Ryder knew her trade well, and war had given her cause to practice her craft in a way that most didn't want to know. Yet the Angel did so without complaint, showing the kind of woman she really was. God bless her.

" _I hear her voice in the morning hour as she calls me,"_ Sara began to sing, showing that she did indeed have a pleasant voice, _"the radio reminds me of my home far away. Driving down that road, I get a feeling,"_ the Angel continued to sew as she sang softly for the Marine Private as he whimpered, _"that I should have been home yesterday… yesterday."_

Another voice added to the choir as Sam looked up from where she sat, seeing Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams standing over Sara, her own brown eyes looking to the Marine and not the grisly task. All four of them sang as STG Agent Zevin Raeka stood sentinel silently in the Bar-turned-Casualty Collection Point, filled with too many brave men and women.

" _Country roads, take me home,  
_ _To the place I belong.  
_ _West Virginia, mountain momma,  
_ _Take me home… country roads."_

" _Take me home… that country road…"_ Private Frank James said softly, finishing the song as he finally passed out, heartache and exhaustion getting to him as Collins gently pressed a pair of finger just under the corner of the jaw, just south of the mandibular joint where one could find the pulse in the carotid artery. She was glad to note that she could feel the thrumming of a heartbeat there, strong enough that she didn't have to guess or count, though her Autistic mind did automatically.

"Passed out. Poor kid." The former Marshal of Therum said to Doc Ryder as she continued to sew, halfway done closing up the Marines' stump, her blue eyes touching Sam's for the briefest of moments before going back to her work, chopsticks and needle in her hands. "Why that song?"

"When I was a kid growing up on the Cit," Sara began, pulling thread, "I was scared of the Keepers. They're big spider-like creatures that live on the Cit, a part of the maintenance and reclamation process. One day, you'll go somewhere and they'll have rearranged the furniture or added something to the Cit walls or floor for whatever program or biological process controls them. I guess when I was a little girl, I woke up one night to a Keeper in our bedroom," ah, that's right, Sara had a twin brother, "and that fear never left me. Whenever I got afraid at night that I'd wake up to a Keeper in my room, my Dad would come in, and… and he'd sing that song to me until I fell asleep in his arms." There was a ghost of a smile on Sara's face, a memory she was happy to hold onto. "My first trip to Earth, we went to West Virginia where my father had been born. Saw his old college Marshall, the mountains… forests as far as the eye could see." The thread was tightened once more. "I remember waking up early one morning and walking out of the log cabin we rented and… it was like being transported back to the 18th or 19th Century. You'd never known we'd sail the stars or colonized other worlds in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I kinda hated it as a kid, wishing for that eternal day of the Cit with its white walls and aircars, but now…"

"Heritage." Williams coined up, nodding from above Ryder's shoulder. "Believe me, I kinda wish I could go back to Sirona and kick around the old block where me and my sisters grew up. Squat little apartment on an Enlisted Sailors' paycheck and my mom being a nurse at a local hospital. Still… kinda like to knock on the door and see who lives there now. What about you, Marse? Where's home?"

"Neo Hong Kong." Ash grimaced as the Colonial Soldier remembered that Marshal Sam Collins was a First Contact War survivor at the age of two, parents and home lost to war. What Williams didn't know was that Sam knew for a fact she hadn't been born 'Sam Collins'; she had been given the name by none other than Sara Ryders' father when he and his team had found survivors of a kinetic strike on a school where refugees and taken refuge. Lieutenant Alec Ryder had handed the little girl to a sailor named Mary Collins at the time, and Mary had adopted the little girl as her own during the war. Sam had been named by the Pathfinder after his mother. She briefly wondered if Sara knew that the Marshal was named after her grandmother.

"Well, I'm done here." Sara exclaimed as she wiped the sweat from off her brow with the back of one of her wrists, shaking her hands out. "Couple more dozen to go, but thankfully James here was the worst of the borderlines. Give me a couple of hours and I should be able to have about a third of the Marines back on their feet in some form of light duty. Hate to think what condition the civilians are in."

"That's where we'd plan on going next." Collins' felt the same way Sara did; those civilians had been sequestered inside a building for seven plus days by gunpoint, supplies thrown in and locked inside. On the flip side, Sam was pretty damn certain that opening that door would be opening a can of worms no one wanted to open, nine hundred angry civilians who had every right to be mad, but at the worst time possible. The longer they waited, the worse the situation would get and more of the blame would be heaped upon their own heads. A Catch-22 no one wanted to catch.

Well, no one said being a cop was an easy gig.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder was working on her twentieth Marine when she heard the sound of an old-school sound of an air raid siren howling outside of the Hadley's Hope Bar and Grill, disinfecting a would and suturing it closed as she looked to Agent Zevin Raeka, who was acting as her assistant. With so many patients and only one of her, there was certainly more people than she had time, and likely more wounds than she had supplies in stock. Sara had the supplies of the fallen Navy Corpsman on-hand in the Bar and Grill to use as well, but the Marines had attempted to try and save their friends with what they could find, and had a done a rather piss-poor job of supply management, using the wrong items and generally three times as much as was needed. And no surprise, the narcotic painkillers were all gone. Once Ryder ran out of her own supply, wounds would be felt in full force, both actual and medicinal. God forbid if she had to cut someone up to remove debris with them conscious and feeling it. No one wanted to perform emergency surgery on a fully-conscious patient screaming in agonizing pain.

"I will see what is happening." The Salarian not-Dalatrass offered, standing up to her two meter height, her dark eyes sweeping over everything. The Bar and Grill-turned-Casualty Collection Point was a Goddamn joke; who the fuck ordered their Marines to turn a bar into an impromptu hospital? It was filled with injured Marines who had no real medical care in a colonial drinking establishment meant for miners and frontiersmen. It didn't shock her that the Bar was somehow completely empty of its stock of beer and booze. Hopefully, someone got smart and locked it up somewhere. Sara wasn't holding her breath, though.

"Thanks, _Dhor'rele_. _An glak nu bak mor_." Ryder told the Salarian, reminded that she had once gone to the Academy with Raeka's younger sister, Zevin Yalis, heir to their mothers' authority. Sara had replied in the Salarian dialect of Mannaovi, Raeka's mother tongue, to keep her eyes open. The Special Tasks Group Agent nodded once in acknowledgment as she pulled her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle from the magpoints of her Armax Arsenals' H-Series Predator Heavy Armor and headed out of the Bar as Sara went back to work, suturing a wound that was a laceration of some kind, infected from poor care on the Marine Private First Class's part. He had likely gotten cut during the heat of battle, tearing through his ballistic-weave combat undersuit and thinking nothing of it at the time. Unfortunately, lack of attention and the constant fights meant that it had stayed exposed to Feros' environment and had gotten an infection, though thankfully nothing a little penicillin couldn't fix. There was a tinge of green at the edges of the cut, but no necrotic tissue at the sight; signs of gangrene, but no other evidence. She would monitor the cut over the next few days, to see if the tinges grew or not. Hopefully it was the sign of a native infection and not a strain of bacteria like MRSA or Staphylococcus that was a scare to both patient and provider. There were something like seventy patients in the Bar, ranging from infections, inflammation, wounds, and general sickness. Sara would need the MedBay of a Carrier to work upon the amount of patients that she had. Sadly, she had actually worked on more than seventy patients a day on more than a few occasions in her life, though many of those instances were on the Cit where _Skybulance-37_ had its carriage stuffed full of resupply and the ability to shuttle patients to the PresGen Hospital with Flight Officer Kaius Contenus at the stick, flying like a bat out of hell.

Sara certainly had her work cut out for her.

Finished with the PFC with the cut, Ryder moved to the next patient; a Marine Sergeant who had suffered a shot to his helmeted head and hadn't woken up very cognitive. Idiots had let someone with a concussion sleep with a head injury, and the Sergeant was suffering migraines, equilibrium issues, breathing problems, misaligned pupils, and vomiting. He was honestly lucky he woke up at all; he might have been in a coma… or worse. Sadly, his condition was really beyond her abilities to correct; she could take care of bodily injuries almost as well as an Emergency Room Doctor, but brain injuries were of their own special class. Sara hadn't specialized in cranial injuries for any species, focusing more on trauma care and being a Surgeons' Aide. Being a xeno-medic had its perks, to be sure, but there were things that she would never be an expert in, having generalized over several species instead of focusing on one. She was just grateful that she had experience in at least ten different species in the galaxy, along with some training in three others if the need were to arise. Sadly, there were some things she _couldn't_ help with; Paramedics were meant to get patients to hospitals alive, not performing primitive surgery in a Bar.

Ryder checked the vitals of the Sergeant-in-question, asked him some meaningful questions, and at least noted that if his eyes kept drifting towards her breasts, then at least _certain_ parts of his brain was working properly. Her questions led her to believe that he hadn't really recovered from his head injury; he had trouble remembering five-digit sequences, didn't remember the date, and when given a few misspelled words to read off a datapad, attempted to say them instead of recognizing that they were spelled incorrectly. Sara noted it in her growing log of patients and observations that she would have to download later. Sergeant Micah Cooley would have to be evac'ed with several others to proper Alliance Hospitals to see appropriate specialists. She wrote down his vital statistics, her observations, and dolled out a few mild ANCD's for his constant headache, likely minor brain swelling that she couldn't do anything about.

The next patient was one with burns; a Hydrogen Slush tank had gone off, and a part of the slurry had landed on the female Marines' shoulder. The Lance Corporal didn't seem too thrilled with taking a part of her combat undersuit off to expose her wound despite there being a hastily-made curtain partition to afford her some modesty as the Lancie exposed her shoulder to show the second degree burn that went from front of shoulder to down to her shoulder blade. It was a nasty burn, covering almost the entirety of her shoulder. It was going to need skin grafts to correct, but until then Sara was going to have to monitor for infection. Burns were so susceptible to them. Ryder removed the bandage that kept the burn both dry and protected, taking a look at the red, blistering skin, and winced at the sight of pus coming out of some of the blisters. But the pus wasn't clear, which meant just leaking fluids, nor was it white, which meant infection.

It was tinged green.

"What the fuck." The Petty Officer exclaimed softly, looking at the slightly-green pus. Normally, that would mean gangrene… but gangrene happened with coagulated blood stored in an area, the red blood cells dying and clotting the area with rot until the blood became unviable. Then the lack of oxygenated blood took its toll as cells became necrotic, slowly spreading as death spread. But gangrene didn't happen with burns. The area would be inflamed below the epidermis, and there would be damage to some of the surface tissues and blood vessels, but necrotising tissues weren't the general issue; infected tissues were. The most common infection with burns was _Pseudomonas Aeruginosa_ , a gram-negative bacilli that possessed a singular supercoiled circular chromosome. It was found most everyone on and in the Human body, and regulated through hemostasis and beneficial bacteria that naturally occurred in the Human tissues. The result was generally pus-filled blisters and further damaging skin cells that caused the more obvious 'waxy' look of healed post-burned flesh. It didn't turn pus green.

This was the seventh patient she had seen with something concerning green in their visual bloodwork.

The sound of muted firearms was heard through the walls of the Bar and Grill, making Sara look up to the ceiling temporarily, and then back to her work.

Sara took a small specimen of the pus into a small syringe, hoping to have the time to look upon it as she cleaned any weeping and seepage from the Lance Corporal's shoulder, taking away the old bandages and putting on fresh ones as the female Marine grimaced but stayed silent as Sara taped the bandage onto her shoulder, assisting the Marine in getting her combat undersuit back on before leaving the curtained area, touching the vial of pus she had collected.

Was there a biological contagion on Feros that no one was aware of?

* * *

2nd Lieutenant James Ernesto Vega was having a bit of an interesting day.

First, he got to meet his very first SPECTRE, which was pretty cool. Stared at her ass, which was pretty cool, too. Thought she was a Blue, and had his jaw practically fall off when the helmet came of to reveal a very _Human_ face, a woman with a Turians' white colonial markings decorating practically the entirety of it. Made it a little hard to recognize Marshal Samantha Collins, the Butcher of Torfan, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Then he got to meet two _more_ SPECTREs; the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria. It was as if God had been listening to his prayer for a miracle, and then one-up'ed it by dumping three SPECTREs and the Kill Team of the Gods right into his lap.

His first thought? _The Geth are so Goddamn fucked and I got ringside tickets to the show._

Hadn't quite worked out that way, but he was still pretty optimistic about the whole thing as he perforated another Geth unit with his Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine gun on the western wall, working with one of the remaining platoons with none other than the Butcher of Torfan and the Lone Wolf of Eden Prime, laying waste to toasters. Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams had been distributing tactics and modes-of-attack for the Marines, how switching firing techniques and tactics to keep the Geth guessing and adapting was better than sticking with a sure thing. It had been a couple of hours since the Lion and TEAM LION headed towards the ExoGeni Headquarters further away, the first respite in a long time it seemed, and the push from the west was smaller than usual. Williams had taken control of a platoon of Marines, barking orders like a DI, shifting fields-of-fire, firing techniques, lanes of responsibility, and switching fire team positions in a way that would have had a Gunnery Sergeant and a 1st Lieutenant tear their hair out in frustration.

And yet… it worked. Really fuckin' well, actually.

Three dozen Geth came for the wall, and were obliterated in less than five minutes. In fact, the only real casualties were minor bruises from round strikes that didn't penetrate armor; that meant Marines were receiving _less_ fire, and thus the casualties weren't mounting. The Geth couldn't say the same; they were destroyed to the very last platform, prevented from exfilling from the area as the first target, a Geth Alpha Prime unit, was assaulted by one-half of the platoon while the other half suppressed and whittled the rest to keep the Geth from gaining a tactical advantage. When the Prime went down, it was as Sergeant Williams had said; it was like someone flipped the switch off on the synthetics. They went from dodging, using tactics and cover, and having near-lethal accuracy to being as effective as drones in a carnival game. They would merely stand and walk forward, firing sporadically, not even all that well. It was a turkey shoot… with the Geth. James never thought he'd live to see the day.

It was the first battle they had where they had come out the clear winner.

"This'll help the boys stiffin' up their spines." Vega said to Marse Collins, the SPECTRE coolly ejecting heat out of her Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle as Vega did the same, forcing the drum-like heat sink of his Marshal to convectionally cool down. Most of the battles had been absolute slug fests that lasted anywhere from less than an hour to several, where Geth used the cover of the crags and ruts of Feros to keep themselves well protected while the Marines engaged and suppressed. Anytime they would action more men and women to thwart the threat, a few would show up in a different section to threaten them with flanking and breakthrough, probing for weaknesses in the line. It had been a near-constant thing, never a real lull in battle so as to collect themselves or gain some rest. One-third of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit was taking a mandatory three-hour rest in the Temporary Billets, rotating through a sleep plan that would help them remain more effective. It wasn't the best of plans, but it was better than the one they had. Marines were practically dropping from exhaustion and stress, making mistakes and getting injuries because of those factors when they would have likely not have been hurt if they had been rested and fed properly. How many would still be alive if they hadn't been so burdened with deprivations?

"Geth are being wary." Sam said from next to James, having collapsed her helmet back into her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, surveying the finale of the short battle with her own eyes. "Tali'Zorah has pointed out on a couple of occasions that the Geth work on the probabilities of threat assessments. They factor in a units' size, effectiveness, supplies, tactics, and possible movements, and then work a scenario that is the likeliest of conclusions on how that unit will work. We changed the game on them and threw the statistics right out the window by inserting a small but lethal unit that doesn't fit the mold." Her tattooed face looked to Vega, her blue eyes fierce. "TEAM LION has proved itself to be a statistical anomaly that they haven't created an effective solution for, so thus the probe to see who we are, what were capable of, and how we'll react. Now that we've got two actions where the Geth have lost hardware and we haven't? We'll send them back to the drawing board. It's as Captain Shepard said before; they don't think like organics do. A bold commander might push in a different way only a minute or so later, while a cautious commander may flood us with reserves and heavy weaponry. The Geth obviously don't think this way. It's like fighting a chessmaster when we and changed the game to Parcheesi. They don't know what to do."

"But most of TEAM LION ain't here." Vega pointed out, resting his Marshal in a sling position, with the barrel down and the weapon tight to his body in its carrying apparatus.

"They don't know that." The Marshal replied, shaking her head. "They saw the MAKO leave, but they don't know who's on it. It could have been Marines as a relief-in-force, a hunter/killer unit, only half of TEAM LION, or even just a resupply run. The Geth… play it safe. The Battle of LaGrange Point Two proves it, the Geth using statistical and empirical data against their enemies. Might work for static assault and defenses, like your standard Turian Hierarchy ground unit. But when we start evolving and adapting on our own, they have to change the model to best fit _our_ tactics." The Butcher looked to him, her eyes sparkling with thought. _"They aren't creative!"_ The Level Two Council Agent realized, and the Lieutenant knew the point Marse Collins was making.

The Geth only predicted and reacted through math; they didn't _understand_ an organic. Perhaps they lacked the processing power.

"Unpredictable puzzles and nonsense riddles." The _Latino_ man supplied, making the Marshal beside him nod. "That we can do. Top?" Vega called out on a short-range communication bandwidth on a small physical radio that used short-burst frequency modulation for encryption, generally called a 'walkie-talkie', getting a hold of the highest-ranking Non-Commissioned Officer left in the Battalion, a Gunnery Sergeant by the name of Boris Damarov. "When the sleep unit wakes up, having them start rigging us some make-shift stands for armor. We're making fake Marines. If we've got any sentry turret motors and software left, use them to make a few of them useful." James clicked off the old-school walkie-talkie and looked to the SPECTRE. "We make a few things for the Geth to look at, give a few of them teeth, and disperse some real Marines amongst them, Geth will figure we're playing a game with them. But if they can't tell a dummy from a real Marine, and we make a few of the dummies have teeth, throws their prediction model out of alignment. Plus it gives my Marines something to do besides just fighting, and a chance for others to get some rest and a few breathers. Adds to morale, to boot."

"It's different. Different works with the Geth." Sam's eyes went shrewd for a moment. "I think there was a battle on Earth like that a long time ago, marching troops in a circle to make the unit look bigger."

"Fort Detroit." Vega replied, having remembered studying about Chief Tecumseh's trick into forcing the Garrison Commander of Fort Detroit surrendering his position thinking he was facing overwhelming odds instead of a couple hundred men the Fort could have easily held off. He was going to do the opposite, make it look like they were getting their numbers back, and then when the Geth figured out that the Marines were dummies and tried to attack, would learn that only _some_ of them were, mixed with real Marines and a few pieces of hardware that could be controlled by a hardline controller. Get some of them video game boys something to do manning a Marine Sentry Unit, watching the wall while giving their brothers and sisters some respite. Yeah, that would go over good with the men, using both brains and brawns while showing he was giving them the things they needed like sleep while continuing the mission. Wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a good start towards something different.

He loved it when a plan came together.

* * *

Night was falling on Hadley's Hope, the end of a thirty and a third Terran hour day for the defenders of the colony as Petty Officer Sara Ryder exited the Hadley's Hope Bar and Grill, closing her eyes as she stepped outside into the deepening twilight of Feros, the magenta sky turning violet as Theseus set upon the skyscraper horizon, the ruins of the Prothean megacity surrounding the one spit of land that hadn't been swallowed by the Protheans for… whatever reason. The thought made her have a headache as Sara pinched her nose, fighting the stabs in her skull from the stress and exhaustion she felt after spending well over ten hours getting Marines medically checked out, bring many of them to something approaching active status, and others to Light Duty status. She had gone through much of the supplies of the lost Navy Corpsman that came with the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit, bandages and medications used to get men and women treated, holding a portion in reserve for later battles. With the Colonial Transmitter down thanks to the Geth and the SSV _Normandy_ already knowing _not_ to come to planet to avoid Geth hacking and software intrusion, TEAM LION and the Fourth MEU were effectively on their own for the time being. There would no resupply of medicinal items or a redeployment of Marines until the objective eliminating the Geth, gaining their objective, or destroying it to prevent their acquisition had been accomplished and announced by Auntie with a one-time use codeword to the _Normandy_ that only she could give.

Despite having warships over their heads, the colony of Hadley's Hope was effectively abandoned to whatever fate they could wrought with their own hands.

"Heya Doc." Sara looked over to see Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams approaching her, the Colonial Soldier walking a beat with a hand on the pistol grip of her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun held magnetically to her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor chestpiece, her brown eyes keeping tabs on everything as Marines patrolled the rooftops for Geth activity while others fabricated ad-hoc Marine Sentries made up of skeletonized metal pieces and the armor from their dead. Several had already been set up to 'guard' positions on the rooftops and the wall, intermixed with real Marines to bolster their numbers visually. A few of them had servos and motors connected to them to add fire from their Hahne-Keder M-7 Lancer Assault Rifles to prove not all the Marines were merely for show or merely organic, the Sentries controlled by hardwire and manned by injured Marines on console, serving the line electronically if not physically to give their brothers and sisters respite. Ryder guessed that video game lovers just got their day in the sun.

"Heya Army." Sara noted that Ash was smoking a cigar, a habit of hers that didn't really win her any friends, but no one tried to stop, either. It was an old-fashioned habit that supposedly portrayed masculinity somehow; a strange sort of thing to see out of a woman. Sara didn't mind it too much. Actually, the smell of the smoke was rather pleasant, and it oddly reminded her of her father. "How go things out here?" She hadn't really gotten any updates other than no one had been overran. No one was going to interrupt Doc while she was helping Marines.

"A few clashes. No real injuries on our side, plenty of Geth to scrap once we get the all-clear." Williams replied, letting off a plumb of cigar smoke as she informed the SPECTREs' Second. "I heard you got forty of our boys back on their feet and in decent enough condition to help make a difference. Marines 'round here are pretty happy to hear that, not to mention they got the Angel on their side looking out for them." Good news was in short supply, but the past twelve or so hours had given the Marines of the Fourth more good news than they had in… days, probably weeks. "Now how are _you_ holding up, Navy? I'm not fool enough to think your profession comes without its costs."

"I think I could sleep the night away, but I don't doubt I'll have any pleasant dreams." Ryder replied softly. She had to amputate four limbs, and declare a Marine Captain brain-dead. There were several others who needed more or less hourly care 'lest their wounds and infections get worse, dropping them to critical-and-unstable condition. "Unfortunately, the day isn't done. Not by a long shot.

"We still have the civilians to attend to." That had Ash wince, but nodding anyhow.

"Let me call up Marse and the El-Tee." The Colonial Soldier replied, touching the physical communicator mag-locked to her left shoulder, the old-school walkie-talkie a solution the Marines of the Fourth had cobbled together when the Geth had destroyed their communications and infiltrated their systems network. It involved an old-school communications protocol called 'frequency hop' that used multiple frequencies per second to avoid having their communications tapped into, as well as using short burst packets to send over, compressing the transmission and sending it as a package of data that the receiver would unlock and decompress in less than a second, further securing it. It was a 21st Century solution that Western nations used on Earth to secure their communications from the enemy, and it still seemed to work. Innovation didn't always have to come in the form of cutting-edge, top-of-the-line, or NextGen tech. Sometimes, older proven technology still had its verifiable uses. Sara knew what Ash was doing; protecting 'her' Medic. As the sole Health Care Provider, the Petty Officer was likely the most important person in the colony. Lieutenant Vega might have been the Commanding Officer of the Fourth MEU, but there would be someone to replace him if he were to fall. No one had the skills to replace Sara Ryder. Plus it was pretty standard that Marines (and Army) were a bit overprotective of the medical members of their units, knowing the favor would be returned when they were wounded. A few minutes later, Sara and Ash were joined up by Marshal Sam Collins, Lieutenant James Vega, and Agent Zevin Raeka.

"Not lookin' forward to this, but it needs to be done." Vega said simply, shrugging his armored shoulders as he sported only a Hahne-Keder M9 Kessler Service Pistol on his right hip, obviously not wishing to be seen as being oppressive or willing to cause further injury by bringing a weapon meant for self-defense only. "We got a better game plan than knock on the door and see who answers?"

"There's an intercom system we can access." Collins replied, the Marshal acting in steed for a Frontier Marshal with Marshal Aquila missing-in-action. "I can start a dialog with whomever is in charge or willing to talk and we can go from there. It's really the best solution out of a bunch of bad scenarios, I'm afraid."

"Agreed." Sara nodded. "We need to contact the colonists and at least let them know what's going on and addressing any realistic needs and demands. Leaving them in the main building of the colony might be for the best, but not out of sheer abandonment. Having them understand the situation and coming to a decision logically is really the best way to address it." That was the pretty version of it. Sara knew better; any contact was going to have accusations, screaming, unrealistic demands, calls for trial, and likely destruction of property and further injuries. Humanity wasn't known for acting its best when pushed to a corner or a dark closet. She couldn't blame them, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to the consequences that none of them really had a hand in.

"We let them know that there's a Federal Marshal and a Health Care Provider, that might make them more amicable." Collins said, her blue eyes going to the Colonial Soldier. "Ash? You will be glued to Sara's hip." There was no arguing with the steel of the Marshal's tone. Ryder wasn't exactly pleased with the order, but she knew _why_ ; a Medic and a woman would make a valuable hostage, and the Angel of Illyeria even more so. If some vindictive colonist who was justifiably pissed by their treatment wanted to get even with the Systems Alliance (no matter how retarded), they could abduct her and hold her for ransom. That would not make things better at all. She certainly didn't want to put Auntie in that position; she knew how Jannie would handle it. She wasn't thrilled with the thought, but she wasn't going to fight it. Not when she knew it was a good idea. Sara looked to Ash, the Army Soldier looking to her with a nod of her head as she chewed on her cigar a little, no doubt thinking of how bad the situation could get. Ryder didn't doubt that Ash would thump a colonist if they got handsy or inappropriate. But thumping wasn't the worst that could happen.

"I'll go get my MedBag." Ryder said. Day wasn't over yet.

* * *

Agent Mannovai Janoir Ye'ili Tavac Zevin Raeka stood beside the group that had gone to the main colony building of Hadley's Hope, her three-fingered hands gripping firmly upon her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle and having two interesting programs queued up on her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, upgraded by the Special Tasks Group Research and Development Team, and its various programs and its apps coded and developed by herself. She was good with a rifle, but she rather liked the term given to her by a Human criminal before setting him on fire for being a slaver; _Wizard_. It was charming in a rustic sort of fashion.

There were days such as today that being a soldier-spy had its heartsache.

The main building of the colony was a conglomerate of many things; the command center and colonial progress center of the development, quarters for the colonists, a medical/science lab, and various other departments necessary to run a starter colony. A centralized location was smart, with as many components as close together to keep information and efforts streamlined, and the building itself was meant to be self-sufficient if located on a planet where the environment was hostile. Humans had some interesting ideas, but Raeka understood that they were still learning about the galaxy at large, pioneers and explorers in their own right. It was that building that one thousand colonists minus the dead were relocated by the orders of Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulick, forced by gunpoint to be sequestered, dozens dead when some resisted. _Sickening_ , the not-Dalatrass thought to herself, though she knew every species had its ugliness; Humanity wasn't alone in this regard. Still, knowing it intellectually and seeing it with her own eyes were two different things. The Turians would have been worse at the sight of civil unrest, and the Batarians… they were in a league of their own, unfortunately. The Salarian had one hand on the grip of her Argus, and her left hand ready to launch a spray of gas that would render a Human unconscious without any long-term issues as she stood before the door as Marshal Samantha Collins approached the intercom that would connect the outside to the inside, an airlock access intercom that the Level Two Council Agent would use to establish dialog. Raeka looked over to the other side of Sam, seeing Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams readying herself as well, her right hand on the grip of her ERCS M-3 Predator Combat Pistol, and her left hand discretely holding a configured flashbang grenade.

"If anyone can hear my voice, this is Federal Marshal Samantha Collins of the Systems Alliance Marshal Services." Collins pressed the activation button of the intercom, speaking into its transmitter as 2nd Lieutenant James Vega stood right behind the Marshal, his face grim at the thought of the details that would unlikely come forth about what his unit had done to the colonists. Beside him was Petty Officer Sara Ryder, equally looking on without emotion. There would be no good news coming. Seconds passed after the first transmission, the five of them waiting patiently, not really expecting an eager response back. After what Raeka assumed was a Terran minute, the former Marshal of Therum clicked on the transmitter again. "I say again, this is Marshal Collins of the SAMS. I'd like to talk to anyone who is in charge, or just anyone willing to talk." Williams was frowning as she began bouncing the flashbang in her hand, and Ryder looked on with a glum face wile Vega grimaced. This wasn't unexpected, and Collins had mentioned on what she'd like the plan to be if no one wished to talk on their way to the access door to the main building. The Marshal waited another minute. "If you can hear me, I'm a Federal Marshal, and I want to make sure the people are alright in there. If you could talk to me so I can find out what's going on and what you might need? I'm not opening the doors to have the military barge in and continue what was happening before."

Still no response.

"Bad juju feeling." Ash said, her lips twisting into a grimace quickly, shaking her head as she looked to Collins for a moment before going for the transmitter herself. "Hey, this is Ash. I'm a Soldier with the Eden Prime Colonial Army, Twelfth Frontier Battalion. They call me Lone Wolf Williams now." Ah, the Solider was going to appeal to whomever was inside with her story of heroics. Not a bad idea, honestly. "I've been with Marse Collins for about a month fighting Geth, and we arrived on Feros earlier today. Things are bad out here, and I've heard that things are bad in there, too. Marse wants to know that you people are well, if you're in need of food, supplies, medicine, that sort of thing. I'd like to know if the kids are okay. I got three kid sisters myself; Abigail, Lynn, and Sarah. I was Blockhead, Abby was Motormouth, Lynn Klutz, and Sarah Brat." Doc Ryder just shook her head and smiled a little as Lieutenant Vega snorted softly, but Agent Zevin knew what the Human woman was doing; appealing to the Salarainity of whomever was listening, trying to connect with them with personal anecdotes. "God, Sarah's still in Secondary Gymnasium, asking about _boys_. She's got a crush on this one kid Thomas who's one part jock, one part walking boner." Raeka didn't get the reference for either 'crush', 'jock' or 'boner'. "Had to take Emergency Leave a couple years back to Amaterasu when some ass named Mike decided to try and force himself on Sarah in the woods and she broke a tree with his nose." _Nice,_ James whispered loud enough that the not-Dalatrass heard, seeing him nod with approval. "Got to spend two weeks of quality time with her, being her big sister. Funny enough, idiot tried punching her for classing him up and ended up breaking his nose again. Whatta dumbass."

Williams let go of the transmission button, staring at the device for a long moment.

"That… should have brought someone to the phone." The Soldier said after the moment had long since past. "At the very least to tell me to shut the fuck up and piss off. Something's off or something's wrong, Marse. Think we need to pop the cork and take a look inside."

"Agreed." Collins replied, nodding her head once as she looked to Vega. James moved to the access panel and typed in a ten-digit access code, obviously to lift the lockdown. The first door opened to reveal a sequestering airlock in between the exterior and interior, large enough for a dozen Human-sized sapients, the not-Dalatrass noted. She queued up her Neural Spray program, ready to dose anyone that tried to attack when the door opened as Williams held up one digit of her many fingers, the Human signal to wait a moment, before pulling out what looked to be a rubberized wedge and shoving it into the doors' track to halt it from closing.

"Not all hacking involves terminals." The Solider said with a wink towards Doc Ryder, making the Navy Corpsman snort and smile as Vega typed in the second code to open up the interior airlock door. It slid open to reveal no one immediately in its vicinity, displaying a corridor made of metal and lights.

And something inside that had them all staring.

" _¡Madre de Dios!"_ Lieutenant Vega gasped out, taking two steps back with a look of horrified shock on his face. They all saw what was inside as James slammed his hand on the access panel, closing the interior door as he turned to look at the Humans and herself, his brownish flesh paled considerably and sweating out of fear. "W-what the fuck was that!"

"I've never seen anything like it." Marshal Collins replied, her own Turian Colony-marked face visibly lightened from the sight they had all seen. "I… I don't know. Never heard anything of its like in the Office of Special Tactics." Sergeant Williams was cursing under her breath, low enough that Raeka's horns couldn't catch it. Probably profanity.

"They looked to be organic incubation pods, almost like chrysalids." Petty Officer Sara Ryder said slowly, though her tone said she was disturbed by what she saw, gulping a little. "Organic cocoons that worms create to turn into butterflies, a metamorphosis chamber." She explained to James and Ashley, who both nodded with the clarification. "But that's only found in holometabolous insects on Earth, not Human Beings." Raeka's hyperthesmic memory recall certainly had no issues remembering what she had saw, Humans calling it 'photographic' memory. The pods were certainly taller than Humans, though the pods themselves had been greenish and had a spun look to them, indeed looking like a cocoon, bulging in the middle and tapered on its ends. There had been at least a dozen in plain sight connected to the walls of the corridor leading into the main building, and there had been more leading deeper inside. "Lord… I think those are the colonists." Ryder said in abject horror, her blue eyes wide as she looked to all of them individually for a brief moment each.

"I think they're people in those pods!"

* * *

Author's Note: I like going for a little old-school Sci-Fi, and the next chapter will certainly have a lesson learned back in 1956, going back in the day of black and white cinema. One of the few movies in which the good guys don't exactly win in the end, we'll see if you can get this cinematic classic and where I'll be going with it.

In America, the US Military does not hold jurisdictional power inside the United States territories save for military bases; the Army does not respond to riots or crime. Now I know you'll cry _National Guard!_ but they are a part of the State Militia, not the Federal Government, and are activated by a State Governor; an elected official by the people of the state. This is usually during State of Emergencies (like weather-related emergencies) or civil unrest (like we can see in history during the 60's and 70's). And yes, military verses civilians damn near always goes badly. Look up Kent State University, Ohio, 1970. It isn't pretty.

I mention that the Frontier Marshal of Feros is Marshal Teresa Aquila. Let's see who recognizes this name from a 2010 video game.

"Country Road (Take Me Home)" - John Denver (thanks for bringing this back, Bethesda!) #Fallout76

While I tried to get the instruments right for an amputation, there's dozens of possibilities and I don't know their names or all their purposes. Normally, one cuts the flesh, then tendons, then muscle, and then the bone. It isn't just hacking away, but a surgical procedure to leave as much healthy tissue as possible. Also, skin flaps are left to sew over the stumps. In the American Civil War, the best surgeons were the ones that could lop off a limb the fastest as Minie Ball, made of lead, expanded and generally shattered a bone, creating both severe wounds and lead poisoning. This is where gangrene became a severe concern, as well as battlefield infections from dirt and 1860 hygiene standards (sleeping next to pigs and combing ones' hair with fingers and whatnot). For a good period of time throughout Human history, people didn't take baths in fear of infection and that the dirt and grime insulated them; the complete opposite of what we know today. I wonder what we're doing now that people in a hundred years will consider 'backwards'. (GOD! DIDN'T THEY KNOW COFFEE'S CANCEROUS?!) [I'm so fucked]

I realize I goofed about Feros, though most likely most didn't catch it. During "The Battle of LaGrange Point Two" I mention the Fourth Fleet hiding behind the moon Vegna. Feros has two moons; Orcan and Vardet. Yes, I've changed Canon, but I could at least get the planets and moons right.

Feros has a 5.44 Bar atmosphere. A Human being cannot just _walk_ into 5 times atmo without suffering pressure sickness (barotrauma is generally in reference to the 'Bends', in which you go from greater-to-lesser pressure, usually associated with deep-sea diving). There is very little about actual 'compression sickness' since deep-sea divers generally breath trigases to take out as much native nitrogen out of their system (what causes Decompression Sickness) before diving. The closest reference I could find was 'Caisson Disease' (the original DCS) associated with the building of bridges and tunnels where pressurized areas existed to keep out the water (positive pressure) back during the late 19th Century. In fact, the modern-day airlock was created by Sir Earnest William Moir in 1889 during the building of the Hudson River Tunnel in NYC. Walking into a high-pressure area will affect equilibrium, eyesight, and cognitive thinking… and the associated symptoms make a person appear to be drunk. Sir Moir also created the Diving Bell and the pre-fab concrete block design for the WWI machine-gun pillbox. As a sidenote, 25% of the workers on the Hudson River Tunnel died from DCS before Moir's airlock (which became the industry standard). DCS is a _really_ horrible way to go, and Sir Moir was horrified that workers were dropping dead… and no one cared.


	33. The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, III

" _Well, why not a space flower? Why do we always expect metal sips?" - Nancy Bellicec, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, 1978_

 **Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 10, 2183**

Authors' Note: If you had guessed the Pod People from the _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ from the previous chapter, pat yourselves on the back.

This chapter represents a couple of keystones. First? SIX MONTH ANNIVERSARY (3/7-9/7)! Mass Effect: Of Lions And Angels is now six months old. It is my third most read story with more reviews, fav's, and follows than the rest of my stories. I also hit an all-time high of over 300 views in a day with _The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, II_ (I got close a couple of times with _A Forest Of Spines_ and _The Battle of LaGrange Point Two_ , the previous titled winner being _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope: Chapter 15, Global Extinction Event_ ). I've been typing future chapters to keep the ideas coming, and to plan what's going on. If I can keep myself from coming up with too many ideas… this will be at **110 chapters** when completed, averaging at about 11,500 words per chapter (start doing the math when Ive been doing a 5-chapter ARC per month!) I literally typed the last and final chapter just so I know where the goal line was.

To all of those who've read, rated, commented, suggested, snarked, fav'ed, followed, and even the imperious inclusion of GUEST and ANONYMOUS, thank you all for making this a fun write, to looking forward to see what wonderful (and horrifying) ideas I can come up with next. Keep up with the love, and I'll keep up with the suspense.

Now, an important question…

Would you like to install the _Aliens_ DLC (Y/N)? [oh… oh shit]

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder felt like she had fully stepped into a horror immersevid. Except it wasn't a movie.

She held her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon in her hands as she scanned the lengthy corridor of the Hadley's Hope complex, just a few meters in front of the airlock that would lead back to the colony proper. By her side was 2nd Lieutenant James Ernesto Vega, hoisting his Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, his face exuding sweat as his dark eyes scanned the same corridor, the barrel of his weapon pointing down the length of the pre-fab hallway that was crafted from AlumniSteel and barely illuminated, light fixtures cracked or inoperable. It was dark in the corridor, shadows deepening every corner and giving a pall of despairing gloom as Sara tried to see down the full length of the interior but couldn't. That might have been for the best.

"This might be worse than the _Horizon_." Ryder said softly as her blue eyes touched upon the nearest object in the corridor, what they had seen when Vega had punched in the access code for the airlock to open up the main building. It was tall, taller than either Vega or STG Agent Zevin Raeka's two meter height, fatter in the middle and coming to nubs at the ends. Its greenish surface looked distinctly organic, almost as if flesh but not quite, and the object itself was stuck to the wall of the corridor by means of some sort of slimy adhesive, strands of the ropey-like substance seemingly cradling the cocoon-like… pod… to the wall and ceiling. James looked at her in confusion, not understanding the reference to the ACV _Horizon_ and its many Husks. That had been a terrible thing indeed, but something that TEAM LION had been expecting. This was something else entirely.

"Are those the colonists?" Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams asked, her voice in a hushed tone, as if speaking too loudly would burst one of the pods open by accident, or alert something they didn't want alerted. Ash was hoisting her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun, cradling it in her hands as she looked down the corridor, and then to Sara. "What in the good Goddamn fuck happened to them? This wasn't because of the Marines. Or, at the least, they didn't have anything to do with this."

"El-Tee, were there any biological warnings or environmental considerations passed down to your command when the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit was deployed to Feros?" Ryder asked, her assault rifle/shotgun combination weapon pointing down the length of the corridor as she looked to the _Latino_ man. She could easily tell that he was afraid, a bit unnerved. He hadn't seen horror like she and the others of TEAM LION had.

"No." The burly man replied, looking to her for a moment before returning his attention to the corridor. "We were told of the pressure issues on Feros, being at five atmos, and the dust advisory for anyone with lung issues or known allergies. But the colonists were walking out in the open without breathers for the most part unless there were windstorms that would black out the sky with dust and debris. They weren't worried about anything… different." His dark eyes were on the nearest chrysalis, almost bugging out of his head. "This _mierda_ waddn't here before, I can tell you that. Been in this building several times before the lockdown. Certainly weren't no cocoons then." The man look shaken and nervous, but that Marshal was as steady as stone. "The fuck happened here? _Esto no puede estar sucediendo."_ The Lieutenant breathed out. He was unnerved. Sara didn't blame him.

"Keep it together, _Oso_. _"_ Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins said as she moved to Lieutenant Vega's side, placing a gentle hand on his armored shoulder, the Level Two Council Agent giving him the advice he needed. "There might be people here still, and they're going to need our help."

"Got it." James replied, looking a little more resolved, though his eyes still darted from the cocoons that were placed down the length of the corridor. There were easily dozens in sight. "No lies, way over my head on this one." Vega admitted, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably as he looked down the corridor. Admitting to his lack of assurance seemed to take a toll on the man, but better to admit to it now than later one when bad decisions or inexperience cost lives. At he wasn't so macho that he couldn't admit he wasn't the best for the job, Sara realized.

"Raeka? Spin up a drone oriented towards motion detection and life form identification." Marshal Sam Collins said almost immediately after Vega's admittance, the _Latino_ man looking visibly relieved at the fact. The STG Agent was already working on her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, queuing up and configuring the programming for an assistance drone. "Doc? We're going to clear down to the first chrysalis, and then I want you to investigate it without opening it. I'm not running the risk of a biological contamination or a quarantine risk." Sara nodded, the order making sense. They needed to know what happened here first before they could search the complex for the fate of Hadley's Hopes' colonists. While this was a rescue mission _of sorts_ , doing it wrong meant there would be no rescue, and likely make the situation worse. Ryder didn't want Auntie coming here and finding something worse to deal with, and she certainly wasn't interested in creating more danger for the colonists or the Marines outside of the complex. "Keep it tight, keep it quiet, and keep it slow."

Sam had her HMWSM MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Submachine Gun in her hands, more appropriate for urban and interior situations. Sara drew hers off her right hip and extended it into combat operations as she lifted her left hand and pantomimed pushing against a wall as she felt a heat building up at the base of her skull, a trail of pins and needles crawling down her neck to her arm, the tingling sensation extending to her hand, where her skin itched and little arcs danced in between her armored fingers as she erected a shield around herself, feeling the hum of negative field Biokinetic energy surrounding her. She then lifted her left arm towards her, and with her trigger finger activated her OmniGel dispersal nodes, gushing a centimeter thick layer of high-grade OmniGel over her chest, arms, shoulders, back, thighs, shins, and helmet, which activated and surrounded her head with the activation of her Tech Armor. She could keep up the Barrier with some concentration, though after some time she'd have to collapse it from strain and caloric depletion.

"Whoa! Damn, you don't fuck around, do ya Doc?" Vega looked at her with shock. "Biotics and a nifty suit of armor. Tough customer." The _Latino_ man had approval in his tone as he activated his own helmet, his Aldrin Labs' Onyx Heavy Interceptor Armor extending it from the collar of his armor. _"Ladies don't mind if I take the lead? Me being a gentleman an' all."_ He hefted the Marshal to its proper combat configuration and height, the carrying harness steadying his movements, walking forward as the barrel of the medium machine gun swung back and forth slow and steady to search and scan as a violet orb danced over his left shoulder, the scanning drone of Raeka's. The Salarian had a holographic field displayed over her OmniTool showing the motion sensor and life sign detection field, and Sara noted that it only had a fifty meter range. That was at best in optimal conditions, which this corridor was anything but. Ash walked right next to Vega, her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun to her shoulder as the Colonial Soldier kept pace with the Marine Lieutenant, taking the starboard side as Vega had port, keeping their fields of fire and scanning cross-sections to clear corners without flagging their companion. James and Ash moved forward at a half-pace, their respective weapons sweeping as the drone above Vega's shoulder pulsed out a sub-sonic waves every second for motion and life form signals, letting off a small tick every time it sent its wave. Agent Raeka huddled in the middle of the formation with her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle held upward as she monitored her OmniTool, while Sam and Sara took the rear of the formation, guarding their rear while being able to action in on anything different or unusual, or even able to clear rooms if necessary.

" _Approaching pod."_ Ash vox'ed through the helmet of her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor, her Reverent pointing at the object in question in the gloom of the corridor. _"Looks like a big walnut seed. If walnut seeds were green and squishy."_

" _Less chatter."_ Marshal Collins invoked, though there was no reproof in her voice. _"Vega, Williams, take far-side security."_ Both Marine and Soldier stepped past the pod that was attached to the wall and ceiling by organic strands, Vega purposefully rounding around the pod as far as he possibly could, obviously afraid to touch it. Sara moved forward as she stored her SPECTRE Submachine Gun on her right hip, collapsing it as she pulled out a Medical Monitoring Device on the side of her MedBag's pouch as she approached the organic-looking pod warily, her eyes on the details. The cocoon looked to be a chrysalis, with a hardened organic flesh colored a leafy green, with molted-like surface with hardened dark-green veins webbing over its pitted surface. It was easily taller than two meters, and Sara doubt James could wrap his arms around he middle, where it bulged out the most. It tapered to nubs at the end and didn't even touch the floor of the complex, fully suspended by the sticky-looking strands that held it, like a spiders' web but much thicker. It looked to be some sort of organic resin of the likes Ryder had never seen or heard of before, though likening it to an insects' metamorphosis chamber seemed to be accurate; it looked like a much larger version of a butterfly's pupa. Sara took a couple of steps closer, slowly, as she raised the MMD with its ultrasound App toggled to give her an interior view through the use of reflected sub-sonic soundwaves.

She pressed the device against the stiff-yet-pliable shell of the cocoon, and watched as a holographic screen pop up over the device to give her a view of what laid inside.

It took a minute or two for Sara to get a sense of what she was seeing. There was interference from the cocoons' shell, making her recalibrate the frequency and hertz of the ultrasound minutely to get a better picture until she got a clear picture of… what looked to be a humanoid-shaped sentient inside, in what appeared to be an upright position though with arm-like appendages wrapped around its thoratic chest and legs crossed together and slightly bent. It was almost like a fetal position except less extreme, and she found the head analogue, slightly downward, almost… almost like a sleeping position.

 _Now, what_ are _you_ , Sara thought as she focused on the anatomical portions of the creature inside, what she could see that would specify what it was. Was it a new species or something that she knew of? There were thirty-nine recognized species known to the Citadel Council of Law, but Sara had never heard of any of them having a metamorphic phase in their development. She noted that the hands had five phalanges; five fingers. Only five species had five fingers; the Asari, Batarians, the Drell, Humans, and the Vor'reen. The device went downward and Ryder saw five phalanges coming from the metatarsals; five toes from the foot. Sara gulped at that. Only the Asari and Humans had five toes. The Device went up towards the trunk and looked at the interior portion of the lumbar, going downward slowly until she found, yes… there were the hips, and in between the symmetrical bottom extremities…

…was fully-exposed intromittent organ, type male.

"Oh God…" Sara pulled away from the pod, the Device still in her hand as she stepped back, looking at the cocoon in horror. Only one sapient species in the entirety of the galaxy was known to have an intromittent organ, and only one planet had evolved for that kind of copulation. Thirty-nine sapient species and _millions_ of non-sapient lifeforms throughout the galaxy, and only on Earth did creatures evolve with an externally exposed sexual organ.

"There's a man in that cocoon. A _Human_ man." Ryder looked to Sam, her tone betraying what she felt; shock and horror. Someone had captured a man and cocooned him for purposes unknown. There would be nothing good of this.

" _So these cocoons… are the colonists?"_ Williams asked, her tone dubious. _"I mean, how did they let themselves get captured and wrapped up in the first place?"_

" _They didn't have any weapons, no real ones, at least."_ James supplied, his tone glum. _"If something bad happened here, it would have been improvised weapons or fistfighting."_

" _Could this be environmental?"_ Collins asked, though she didn't sound like she believed the possibility herself, just merely covering bases.

"No, this is certainly the doing of something organic." She didn't know the purpose of the cocoon; was it a metamorphose chamber, or a preservation chamber, much like what spiders did with their food? Had the colonists of Feros discover a new species? Had they unleashed something by accident?

Was it inside with them right now?

* * *

" _Command post is this way."_ 2nd Lieutenant James Vega said as they approached an intersection of the Hadley's Hope Main Complex, Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams grunting acknowledgment as she used the angel of her approach to begin clearing the opposite corridor. She hated the Complex and all it was. It was dark, most of the interior lights broken or malfunctioning, with a few amber emergency lights strobing for poor illumination. The corridor was thick with shadows and gloom, and despite her helmet being on, Ash felt like she could almost choke on the dust and mold inside the complex. She had been through a absolute ton of Urban Warfare Training Courses in the Eden Prime Colonial Army, the ground forces against invasion and criminality, the SACA knowing fully well that cities and towns would be the main target for slavers and enterprising criminals. But this Complex represented the worst she had ever seen, a massive pre-fab structure that was built to be self-sufficient, with AlumniSteel walls and reinforced structure meant for many an environment out in the various territories of Earth Alliance Space. It could be planted in a high-grav world, a high-pressure world, a high-temp world, and even those with a fraction of Earths' conditions. It was a structure meant to survive.

And it was hell to clear out.

Dozens and dozens of rooms existed along the corridor, each one needing clearing to check for survivors, Agent Zevin Raeka's scanning drone only so effective. It was meant to pick up movement and lifeforms, but the Salarian not-Dalatrass had fully admitted that it was more programmed for Salarian biological lifesigns, and could easily miss someone in a fully-sealed environmental suit that wasn't moving, or even a sleeping person. Walls and closed rooms wouldn't be penetrated by the drones' scans, and the strange cocoon things weren't either Even then, Ash doubted she would accept that something was clear unless she saw it with her own eyes. As the five-man team moved down the corridor, checking every corner, nook, and cranny, Chief Sara Ryder and Marshal Samantha Collins checked each room that they encountered, opening the door and sweeping inside with a two-man team as Agent Zevin Raeka watched their rear while Vega and Williams held the front while the Marshal and the Corpsman cleared each and every individual room, many of them just being personal quarters. Ash got the sense that Sara and Sam worked together well, especially after the first couple of rooms; the small kinks getting ironed out as they became more proficient, learning each others' routines and moves to better integrate themselves, what made the difference between a mere combatant and a true professional. By the fifth room, they weren't even needing words to coordinate themselves, having meshed with the other that allowed non-verbal communication to be all that was needed.

 _You'd be proud of her, Skipper_ , Williams thought to herself, keeping an eye on the Petty Officer. No one needed to tell the oldest child of the Williams family what Sara Ryder meant to Jane Shepard; hell, there was a fucking _movie_ about it! This was the part of Sara that the Lion never really got a chance to see, the part that existed whenever her Auntie wasn't there. Whenever Jane was in a room, it was easy to see Sara immediately looking to her direction, the young woman who had looked up to the redhead as a hero when she was a little girl, that feeling still there. It took a big sister like herself to see the signs, the mark of family when an older sibling and a younger one had a much larger gulf in age between them than the normal average. Generally, brothers and sisters were only separated by a year or two, some at most three. Seeing a pair with a five year separation was rare. Jane Catherine Shepard was nine years older than Sara Elaine Ryder; damn near a teenager when she first held Sara in her hands. No doubt 'Auntie' became something of a babysitter for the Ryder twins, Ash knowing that Jane was practically half-raised by the Ryder family herself.

The scuttlebutt about that one was fierce on the _Normandy_ , though no one dared _breathe_ it around either the Captain or Doc. It hadn't gotten any better after the Battle of LaGrange Point Two, with Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer and Captain Jane Shepard on the same boat for nearly two days. Every time the Skipper talked about her mother or referred to her mother, it had always been in the third person; _the Admiral_ , she would say. The dispassionate tone was as clear as day with anyone with a pair of ears, and even Doc Ryder seemed to hold no real emotion to a woman that was the mother to someone she saw a sister and personal hero. There were guesses and rumors, but both Williams and First Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko squashed them down pretty hard before things got out of hand and word got back to either the Skipper or Doc. Ash hadn't been told (she certainly didn't ask and had zero intentions of ever asking) but Commander Mark Vanderloo had happened upon the Sergeant dressing down one of the Bosun's Mates talking about it while performing maintenance on the _Normandy's_ main elevator, literally the busiest part of the ship concerning foot traffic. Navy was just as bad as the Army when it came to rumors and sticking ones' foot in ones' mouth.

" _Some bridges may never be mended_ ," the Executive Officer had said simply, and had left it at that. Ash hadn't asked, but considering that the Skipper had her _ex-husband_ working as her XO and keeping the drama to near-zero activity, that said something fierce. Oh, Ash wasn't under any illusion that the Captain still had some feelings for her XO; it was next to impossible not to feel anything for someone one once loved, even if it was a desire to set the other person on fire. Williams doubted that was the case between Captain Shepard and Commander Vanderloo, though.

" _Where's your head at, Gunny?"_ Vega asked softly, Ash wincing that she had been called out as well as the Marine nickname for an E-7.

"Ain't a Gunny, Loot, and you know it." Williams fired back, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably as she kept her eyes on the corridor in front of her. One could maintain a position and let the mind wander, but generally it wasn't a good idea. But times like these? Sometimes it helped keep the horror and grief away. "Just… trying not to picture this."

" _Yeah, I get that."_ James replied softly, the barrel of his M-56 Marshal pointing down the corridor, where cocoons were stuck to the walls. _"Anywhere else but here."_ Ash cleared the opposite corridor as she gave the Lieutenant a nod, and Vega stepped out into the intersection, his Marshal raised and ready as he pointed it in the direction they needed to go as Williams crossed behind him and stood at his back, aiming her M-76 Reverent down the opposite path of travel, keeping their flank protected. _"Corridor's clear as clear can be."_ The Marine Lieutenant said as he walked forward, Sara moving forward and tapping Ash's shoulder to replace her as Williams pivoted and took a position near Vega, her light machine gun pointing in the same direction as James, the team ensuring they always had three-hundred and sixty-degree security. Thoughts of the _Horizon_ came to Ash all too well, the vessel filled with Husks screaming and rushing in their need to kill them all, and the Colonial Soldier repressed a shudder. This was better than the Cruise Liner, but only just. STG Agent Zevin 'snick'ed' as taking the rear position, letting Vega and Williams know to move forward, the Salarian having adopted the Human signal for 'set'. Vega and Williams moved forward slowly, their respective weapons sweeping and clearing all in front of them as they moved to Hadley's Hopes' Command Center, where if anyone were to be found, it would likely be there.

Ash didn't know how many cocoons they had seen or passed by, but it was easily well over a hundred, some of them side-by-side, or clumped together. Sometimes the corridor was clogged with them, forcing the team to go through one at a time, taking care not to brush up against the organic-looking pod. Doc Ryder's revelation that there was a Human man inside the first one they had inspected pretty much confirmed what they had all thought before; the colonists were inside the cocoons, and there was no way in hell that was a good thing. They needed to know what had happened to the colonists, and the best place for answers was the command post; either there would be survivors there, or at the least the Complex would have some evidence what had happened here. It would give them an idea on what to do next… if there was anything _to_ do.

Williams wasn't very hopeful; the whole thing felt wrong on so many levels.

They continued down the corridor as Raeka's monitoring drone kept hovering over Vega's shoulder, rhythmically thumping like a quiet heartbeat with each pulse of sub-decimal ultrasound waves being emitted and bouncing back for motion and life signs. So far, the drone hadn't noticed anything they hadn't figured out for themselves, though its capabilities wouldn't let it see past walls, inside rooms, or inside the cocoons. Ash ignored the stiffness in her shoulders, the ache in her lower back, and the nervous sweat that beaded her forehead inside her helmet, glad her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor had its own environmental regulator that would keep her cool enough from perspiring too much. She could hear Vega softly praying over his SquadComm, and she didn't blame him at all. With the dark and the gloom, the cocoons stuck to the walls, and the very feel of _fear_ inside the Complex, one could easily mistake this for Hell. Whatever had done this to the colonists was likely still inside the Complex, and they had no idea what it was or how it did it. The corridor continued to run forward, clogged with cocoons as Zevin's drone pulsed quietly, the only sound in the Complex was the odd settling of metal and the scrape of their armored boots on the grate flooring of the Complex. There were no voices, no footsteps, and no sound of activity to be heard as Ash rounded around a cocoon, keeping several centimeters between it and herself as she continued to aim her Reverent down the hall, wishing she could wipe the sweat off her forehead. But there was no way in hell she was going to take off her helmet in a hostile situation. God only knew what the air tasted like with all these pods littering the Complex.

" _Command post is about another hundred meters."_ Vega informed the softly as they passed by another cluster of pods, almost thick enough that Vega had trouble fitting through without disturbing what was inside. The back of his Aldrin Labs' Onyx Heavy Interceptor Armor scrapped against the wall as Ash covered far-side security, having gone first when they noted the narrow passage, having elected to go first to provide a defense while James worked his bulk and his Marshal through the tight fit. The high-impact ceramic armor scrapped along the alumnisteel wall as the Marine squeezed his way through, the Lieutenant vocally taking a breath before shimmying his way through the tight corridor blocked by the half-a-dozen or so cocoons. He made it through with a bare centimeter or two to spare, pushing his bulk and armor as tight against the wall as he could, opting for noise rather than disturbing the cocoons. Williams didn't blame him at all.

They passed through the pinch-point without any issues, but it certainly didn't make their job or lives any easier or better.

Ash continued sweeping as they cleared the corridor, the darkness and gloom of the ill-lit hall playing with her mind. She cleared every corner, every pod, every door as Sam and Sara took to the interior of the rooms, clearing them like a pair of cops. Thankfully the quarters weren't large themselves, but each represented a small living area, a bedroom, and a bathroom meant for a small family to use. That had Williams pause; had there been kids on Hadley's Hope? Statistically, it was impossible to avoid; even the shittiest of colonies had kids on them, and there were some pioneers who would drag their kids off to some Tier I Colony shithole no matter how many people told them it was a dumb fucking idea. And then there was just the bound-to-happen pregnancies, though the usual initial set-up of a colony had women implanted with sub-dermal contraceptive chips to avoid putting a newborn baby at risk when medical facilities were generally very limited and meagerly stocked due to a variety of reasons. Unfortunately, no one had invented an anti-moron chip, so Ash assumed that there were probably children in the Complex, playing in these very corridors as adults worked with little ones underfoot. _God, kids,_ the Soldier felt that vice return, the one that crushed her heart in Eden Prime and came back on the ACV _Horizon_. Supposedly, no one wanted to hurt kids, but somehow kids ended up getting hurt in battles and wars. Well, that was ignoring what the fucking Slugs thought, like anyone gave a shit about those four-eyed motherfuckers.

 _Please don't let me find any kids here,_ Ash thought, that heavy weight tearing at her heart. Despite being lesbian, kids was something she always wanted to have, having helped her Mom raise three sisters while Dad was away on ship deployments. She had been older by Abigail by three years, Lynn six, and Sarah by nearly ten, and it had always fallen to Ash to be the big sister, to be the responsible one. A lifetime of being a big sister meant she was always looking out for little ones, and in her heart, Williams knew that she had that female guardian thing in her. She'd make a good mother, and there were days she wondered why she hadn't started yet. _Mostly because you're having too much fun shooting shit during the day, and lapping pussy during the night_ , she admitted to herself if she were being completely honest. There was nothing wrong with adoption, but Ash would have her own kids. Wouldn't be that hard, finding some male stud and easily coaxing him into a room for a good time on the right night and let biology do its thing. But that would have meant getting out. Williams hadn't been ready for that yet.

Because of that decision, she was now a part of one of the most lethal teams in Human history, serving Humanity's First SPECTRE, serving when Humanity needed them most. Some days, that filled with pride. Other days, anger or grief. Days like today? She really wished she had pulled the 'fuck it' card back when there was a chance, before June Sixth.

 _Head back in the game, Blockhead_ , Sarah Williams' voice came to her, such an old soul for a girl so young. Whenever Ash had her doubts or the grief got bad, she heard her sisters. When that happened, she took the opportunity to actually call them so she really could hear them. She fought for them, and they in returned saved her. That's what family was for. Something the Skipper and Doc would completely get; sometimes family just made you better, even if they weren't right there beside you. _You got some kids in there right now, looking up at you. Sam's tough, but she's a cop; she needs you to back her up and keep her from making a cops' decision in a military action. She just lost her husband, and I doubt she's doing well. Keep your head clear for her, help her down the right paths and decisions so she doesn't make any mistakes she'll regret. Raeka's Salarian; she might be smarter, but there's a million things that you know about Humans she'll never get, so she needs you to be her eyes. She's looking out for us, volunteering during our most despairing hours. Return the favor by looking out for her. Look at James, a twenty-two year old boy desperate to be a man, trying to fill that role. Probably didn't have a real male figure in his life, which is why he's so buffed out and throwing that tough boy persona; deep inside, he's afraid, but he'll never show it. All he needs is someone to keep him from being_ too _macho. And Sara? She practically_ is _a kid! She's younger that Lynn, almost my age. She's use to being the big sister herself to her twin brother; ever notice her looking for something when she enters a room but never finding it? She's walking around with half-a-soul, filling that void with science, experiments, tech, and her team, desperate to fill that hole. She's use to having someone to lean on, and Scottie Ryder and her Auntie aren't here. She's strong, but inside she needs to know she has that shoulder when that time comes._

 _Thanks, Brat_ , Ash smiled as she thought of her youngest sister, knowing that Sarah was right. TEAM LION might be what Humanity needed, but it was really just individuals working together, their hopes and dreams cemented together in a common cause. And like family, those individuals found ways to fill in the gaps of what they need with what they had.

Skipper was the leader, pure and simple, their beacon and guiding light. Sara was the caretaker, fussing over them and nagging them with check-ups and jokes, her way of showing she cared. Kaidan was like a Dad, a silent smile here or a touch of an encouragement here, just enough to give someone the inspiration they needed. Niki and Tali were the kid sisters everyone wished they had, effervescent and full of life, quick to help and to gossip. Wrex was the gruff old grandfather, full of wisdom, anecdotes, and mild insults that equaled _suck it up, Junior_. Garrus was the silent guardian, watching over all, and then pinpointing the very thing they needed help with, as if he knew all along. The Marines were the kids that were always underfoot, Louis, Holland, Oblong, and Nate a bunch of unruly children one had to keep an eye on 'lest they get into trouble. Liara was the shy, nerdy sister, a little wallflower just dying to bloom and have someone watch. Raeka was like the cool Aunt one never knew they had until she'd come in with a jaw-dropper of a gift. Sam, oh so silent Sam, was the one who had come back home after life took an enormous shit on her, a little lost and reeling, trying to reconnect and find herself once more.

During the days when they weren't actively trying to kill something (or something, more accurately, wasn't trying to kill _them_ ), they filled their time with duties and priorities, to work upon a mission bigger than any of them could ever hope to accomplish. Yet they gravitated towards one another, began meshing and bonding, a pseudo-family of rather weird proportions. Ash tried arm-wrestling Garrus once (and lost horribly, much to her charign), and loved gossiping with the Pilgrims, showing off pictures of her family as they returned the favor (a suited Tali standing next to a suited father, Niki with a suited adoptive mother). Wrex had an eye for a million and one ways to improve someone, be it stance, or hand positions, or even a better way of cleaning ones' armor while drunk (that had been a hoot of a story!), watching over them all with those eternal eyes of his that had seen way, _way_ too much. Liara… Liara…

 _Her_ Liara.

Oh it wasn't that, though thankfully if there was scuttlebutt about it, everyone was wiser not to mention it to the Colonial Soldier who had the second biggest arms for a female on the ship (yeah, Ash had rubbed it in _just_ a little with the Skipper, Shepard a little glum about that loss). Ever since that little impromptu date on the Cit at Alshar, the poetry club, Ash found herself… spending time with Doctor Liara T'soni. Whenever her Watch was over and she wasn't fixing weapons or armor, and Liara wasn't trying to discover Prothean poetry written in stone somewhere, somehow they found themselves talking and interacting with one another. Sharing likes and dislikes. Sharing culture and pop culture. Testing tastes and flavors from the others' native environment and seeing what the reaction would be. Liara instantly fell in love with chocolate, and Ash had to admit that _gooshela_ berries were like fruity yogurt bites but much better. They watched Holovision shows, usually Salarian comedies, and somehow their meals were always taken together. During their last day on the Cit, Liara had wanted to do some casual shopping with Ash (and the excuse to do so _only_ with Ash had been rather obvious to anyone with a pulse), going to the Regency District where she had lived for five years, the Protheantologist showing Williams where she had lived, and some of the better memories she had of the Cit. They had gone to a park that had been one of the few last good memories that Liara had with _the Matriarch_ , the Asarikin's hand shyly slipping into Ash's own as the Doctor fought back tears, obviously reliving the past. Liara finally broke down and told Ashley what had occurred between mother and daughter, what had fractured their family. Ash learned what had _the Matriarch_ disown her only child… and Liara accepting it gladly.

Williams had never know such jealous rage in her life at the truth. Who could do that to their child?

They had left the park together, their hands still holding one another's. Ash knew that, in her heart (or hearts in the Doctors' case, actually), Liara was saying goodbye to a mother she had lost long ago.

Williams was… conflicted with her strange relationship with the Asari Protheantologist. She _enjoyed_ spending time with Liara, who was always effervescent and happy to see Ash. Liara could talk _forever_ about the Protheans… and Ash didn't mind. Liara made it fun to learn about the extinct species, listening to her dreams of finding artwork and statues, of uncovering a schoolhouse and learning how Prothean children lived, the essence of any species. Doctor T'soni wasn't one of _those_ Protheantologists (the Asarikin said with utter disdain) who was interested in ancient tech or weapons designs to exchange for Credits and fame. No, Liara wanted to _see_ a Prothean, to look upon a relief of a race who had created so much, whose legacy every race in the galaxy enjoyed. It wasn't hard to figure out that the Protheans were a symbolic replacement to a father figure that Liara never spoke of and likely didn't know of; an absentee 'sire' who was a myth, but to be revered. Liara's devotion to her chosen profession was endearing, really, and Ash found herself downloading primers and Prothean History texts (to keep up, of course). For a good solid week, Ash almost didn't realize that she had spent more time with Liara than anyone else in TEAM LION… and it didn't bother her in the least. A far cry from the woman she was just a year prior. Nothing considered fraternization was happening, of course, but Ash… wondered.

Everything changed with the Battle of LaGrange Point Two.

With the Fourth Fleet falling to pieces, nursing its wounds and literally trying to hold itself together in some cases, the SSV _Normandy_ and its crew were at its finest. Many aboard the Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate had volunteered to board other vessels in their time of need, those not on Active Watch jumping onto the UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel " _Rey Kenobi"_ to be transfered over to ships that needed their trade or, at the least, their hands. Both Doctor T'soni and Sergeant Williams had been amongst the first volunteers (though practically everyone volunteered within seconds of one another) to throw their efforts into the aiding of the IVY Fleet. While all Sailors were Damage Control like all Marines were Riflemen, Ash was Army; she didn't know a bilge pump from a maintenance ladder. But ten years in this woman's Army had certainly taught her how to turn a wrench, splice some wires, slap some cold weld or tact two pieces of metal together, and Ash had been sent to the _York-_ Class Cruiser SSV _Timbuktu_ to aid in maintenance, so many of its Bosun's Mates and Engineers gone. Ash had filled in repairing bulkheads with her OmniTools' spot-welder and getting the cooling system back into operation with the _Tim's_ crew. During the Nelson Drive where the Skipper led the charge that devastated the Geth Fleet with the _Mighty Kili_ , Ash had jumped on a LAM-C Gun Seat and shot the shit out of Geth vessels as only an Army NCO could. During the drive, a piece of debris from an exploding ship had punched through the hull of the _Tim_ , centimeters away from Ash's helmeted head. It had been too small to create a depressurization event and suck her out into space, but when Ash looked at the Gunners' Seat after the battle, she found the piece of debris lodged into the headrest right where her head _was_. It should have fucking killed her on the spot… but it didn't.

Liara had been on the SSV _Ypres_.

The Protheantologist had been instrumental helping the ailing _Hastings_ -Class Frigate during its time of need. While not at all mechanically-inclined, Doctor Liara T'soni came with an ability that very few could match; that of an Asari Biotic. Liara had gently warped and fused metal plates to the half-shattered, half-crippled Frigate in times that it would have taken three Human Sailors to do so, freeing up hands and buying the crew time. During the battle itself, when the _Ypres_ pushed itself beyond its limit to fight the Geth, a nearby explosion had dislodged a Navy Sleeper Pod that had been on its last legs, flying through the Main Deck. Liara, strapped to a crash seat as she had no idea how to operate any Navy equipment, had caught the Pod with her Biotics and warped its grounding plate to the deck, preventing it from injuring or likely killing anyone. Several crew members aboard the _Ypres_ had vocally recognized Doctor T'soni's efforts, and supposedly one Sailor who had spoken up about the Doctors' species had gotten punched in the face for the infraction, laid low by fellow Sailor who simply said _who gives a shit?_

The _Ypres_ had been dead in the water after the Nelson Drive, when the Geth Dreadnought and its twenty-vessel reinforcement force came.

Ash saw what happened on the Haptic Overlay Suite of the Gunners' Station on the _Tim_ , seeing the _Langemarck_ and the _Ypres_ drifting, one with a broken spine, the other with a melting core. Tali'Zorah, the ever-so-shy Quarian Engineer who always fidgeted whenever the Skipper came into a room, had heroically taken charge of an Alliance vessel when the _Langemarck's_ secondary Bridge crew had been sucked out into space, rescuing the survivors of the _Mighty Kili_ in their lifepods as well as somehow magnetically attaching the _Ypres_ to the hull of the _Lange_. Ash didn't have a doubt in her mind that the Pilgrim would have done so in the face of Geth adversity, fighting for vessel and species no matter the danger. Both Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Hannah Singer and Captain Jane Shepard had written recommendations in response to Tali's actions, but what really nailed the point home was the fact that several Normandiers had been on the _Ypres_.

Liara included.

When Ash and Liara made their way back onto the _Normandy_ after the remnant of the IVY Fleet had collected together, Williams had thrown everything she had ever thought or known to the wind and held Liara when they were finally reunited, the grief and stress leaking out. Only a few sobs had escaped her, but the fact that she could do so in the arms of a non-Human said everything. Hell, a month ago Ash would have scoffed at the notion, but there she was, holding an Asari close enough to press bodies with, holding her in a moment of weakness as the Doctor returned the favor. Williams told her what had happened on the _Tim_ , what _should have_ happened to her, and the thought of how she would have felt if the _Ypres_ had been lost. Ash had the revelation shake her very heart when she realized that the _Ypres_ could have been destroyed outright without a chance and… and it had sent a very painful lance of fear and denial right through her. She _cared_ for Liara, but up until that moment she didn't realize that it had been so profound. When Liara had been reunited with the _Normandy_ , Williams hadn't given a shit less who saw her run over to the Asari Doctor and practically tackle her with a hug. She had babbled something to the Protheantologist as Williams held her, whispering to her ear analog situated under her lowest crest flaps on the side of her head, words that basically boiled down to _I thought that I had lost you and I don't want that_. Ash had shocked her even more by tilting her back and leaning forward to kiss her, the Asarikin putty in her hands as Liara closed her eyes and let herself be swept away as Ash gave the Doctor her first kiss, one that seemed to last a blissful eternity. It had tingled in an unusual fashion thanks to the Maidens' Biotics, but Ash didn't mind at all. It was rather… exhilarating.

" _Please don't scare me like that again," Ash had told Liara, holding her tenderly after sharing her heart with the Asari Doctor, the fear and the reunion simmering down as the Soldier held the Protheantologist._ _"I thought I'd lost you. I don't want to lose you."_

" _Nor I you, Ashley." Liara had returned, her cerulean eyes going to her own brown ones, a tentative, gentle hand going to Ash's cheek, cupping her face. "I… I have never felt this way about another before, have never wanted someone this way before. Until you." Liara smiled, her cerulean lips shy as she showed her own hearts to Ash. "I… am smitten by you, Ashley Madeline Williams. You are so full of life and zeal, brave against adversity yet graceful under pressure. When you walk into a room, you fill it with strength and promise, and it can be… overwhelming." Liara's cheeks turned a deeper shade of blue, blushing. "And yet, you have love in your soul; love for your fellow man, for the crew that you serve. You look out for us in a million little ways, both sharing and receiving. You have grown since I have met you, and… I…" The Doctor struggled with the words, the emotions, but she set her fears aside and told Ash what she needed to say, what could have been lost before. "I am falling for you, Ashley. And I will not let that be unknown anymore."_

" _I'd like that, Liara Delphoria E'Shora of House T'soni," Ash replied a little breathlessly, using the Maidens' full name. She_ knew _that Liara had to have_ some _feelings for her, but Williams hadn't been sure what they were. Liara was a super-smart Doctor of Anthropology, specializing in Prothean Paleosociology. She was just a stupid Human cowboy more interested in shooting guns and blowing shit up. How the hell was she to guess that this exotic, caring creature would ever have feelings for a person in a species most considered barbaric and backwards? Yet Liara was in her arms, looking into her eyes, showing her what she guarded most; her hearts, her feelings, her hopes, and her dreams. Ash was touched by it, moved by it. She sealed what she felt by kissing the Protheantologist once more, practically making out with her like a teenager. Not that Liara complained, not with the little gasps she gave with each kiss._

" _Ahem?" Ash cut off the latest kiss to see Petty Officer Sara Ryder standing there, her arms folded across her chest and with a rather amused look upon her face. "Sorry to interrupt, ladies," her tone was completely insufferable, just full of piss and vinegar, "but we're going to have inbound patients coming to the_ Normandy _so we can start assessing and treating more of the more-seriously wounded members of the Fourth right here in the Cargo Bay."_

" _I'll help out where I can." Williams volunteered, knowing she had some of the basics down pat thanks to her time in the Army. Liara had laid her head on Ash's shoulder to give her a final hug before parting, and Williams was most certainly treated to retreating look and a shy smile from the Protheantologist. Sara was smirking way too big. "Not a fucking word, Navy."_

" _Thought I was going to need a crowbar to peel you two apart." That had Ash growl at the Corpsman, who chuckled. "Seriously, though? Happy for you. I really am." Ryder looked to where the_ Normandy's _Bosun's Mates were already beginning to assemble what appeared to be a field hospital right in the middle of the Cargo Bay. Damn, Doc hadn't been kidding. "I think we could all use a little happiness after the day we've had." They had lost too many; sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, Sailors committed to fighting for Humanity and paying the price. Sara was right; nothing wrong with a little happiness on a day like they had._

"We're here." Ash called out as she covered the corridor on their way to the Complex Command Post, finding a sealed door at the end of the corridor, with a dozen or so cocoons attached to the alumnisteel walls, the lights practically all broken down this final section. "I don't see any kind of intercom to call inside. Closed from within?"

" _I can use a program that will let me use the acoustics of the next room as if a speaker."_ Agent Zevin Raeka replied, still hoisting her M-55 Argus in her right three-fingered hand as she monitored her OmniTool screen for movement or lifesigns. So far, they had found none. There were supposedly over nine hundred people in the Complex, and they had yet to find a single one of them. Ash didn't like the feeling it gave her. When the reached the sealed door, the Salarian not-Dalatrass moved forward as Lieutenant Vega did an about-face to cover their rears as the STG Agent mag-locked her Argus to her chestpiece and began typing on her right-handed OmniTool for a moment or two before pressing it against the wall of the next room where the Command Post was. _"Basic premise is to connect electrical wiring and attune it to a frequency to amplify any distortions for reception."_ The ovaloid helmeted head looked over to them, and Ash just figured out _why_ the Salarian had that program.

"Nice spywork, STG." That had Sara guffaw out loud, Marshal Collins merely shaking her head. "Knock-knock time." Williams moved to the door and rapped on it with the oldest code in the book; **tap, tap-tap-tap, tap**. _I wonder who invented the whole 'shave and a haircut' thing,_ Ash briefly wondered.

" _Really, Gunny?"_ James asked, his tone a little amused. _"Not exactly an appropriate introduction."_

" _That means something else in Mexico."_ Marse Collins explained when Ash didn't get it. _"Translates to_ chinga tu madre, cabrón _."_

" _Um… don't exactly speak Spanish."_ Ryder said, sounding a little quaint. _"Six galactic languages, but the Earth ones? Not so much."_

"Means 'fuck your mother, asshole'." Williams translated, knowing the words but not the cultural reference.

" _Charming."_

On the other side of the door, there was a response. **Tap, tap**.

" _I hear voices, lots of confusion."_ Raeka said softly, her holographically-glowing right hand pressed against the wall of the Command Post. _"Debating if they should open the door. Very frightened. Something attacked them. Identified as 'they'?"_

"Means something they couldn't identify." Williams replied, biting her lower lip. There were threats out there in the black, to be sure, but just because someone didn't know the allegiance of an attacker didn't meant someone wouldn't use a _species_ to identify them with. _Batarians_ were a popular one, along with _slavers_. If those words weren't popping up? It fit in the category of _unknown/other_. That could be bad. All they had to do was look at the cocoons to emphasize that point.

" _Who is it?"_ A vox'ed male voice came over a speaker that was over the door.

" _Federal Marshal Samantha Collins with the Marshal Services."_ The Butcher spoke up just enough to hope that her voice was picked up without having her words potentially disturbing anything within the Complex. _"With me is Sergeant 'Lone Wolf' Williams of the Eden Prime Colonial Army, and Chief Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria. We're here looking for survivors and find out what the hell happened here."_

There was a distinct pause.

" _They're discussing something."_ Raeka replied softly. _"Arguing about your identity and if they should open the door. I believe there's a dozen inside."_ The Salarian twisted her gauntleted hand slightly. _"One is most certainly arguing in favor of opening the door. Another is arguing to keep it closed, but offers no alternatives on how to escape the situation."_ The Salarians' helmeted head turned back to the team. _"I believe there is at least one Human child inside. They keep referring to 'the kids' safety', or 'the girl'."_ The hand twisted again. _"I detect approximately twelve different voices, but there might be a few more who aren't speaking. Too much yelling to count individual breathing patterns."_ The helmet returned to looking downward. _"The one in favor has authority of some kind, many defer to him. The one against uses others as a defense, but no one is speaking up for him or in his favor. They are voting."_ Ash winced at that; hell of a time to play democracy. _"They vote to open, but they want to ascertain if we are who we say we are."_

The speaker came back on.

" _What was the nickname of your CHU back on Therum?"_

Ash was taken back by the question as she looked to Sam, whose helmeted head did a double-take.

" _The Icebox."_ Ouch. That wasn't exactly the… _nicest_ compliment for a woman. Someone declared frigid because they didn't go out and fuck. _"Chad? Is that you, Chad Gaultier?"_ Obviously, someone inside knew the Butcher of Torfan _before_ she put foot-to-ass to slaver scum. Perhaps… even before she became the Marshal of Therum.

" _Marse. We're openin' the door, so skittle your asses inside so we can promptly close it."_ The male voice replied as the speaker went off.

And with that, the door opened.

* * *

Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams found herself looking to sixteen pairs of eyes in a pretty standard Command Post as soon as the door closed, turning around now that security wasn't needed anymore.

"Chad!" Marshal Samantha Collins declared as she touched at her HMOT MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I OmniTool to deactivate her helmet, the object collapsing and folding back to her collar as the former Marshal of Therum strode forward towards a tall, muscular man with the beginnings of graying temples in his short brown hair, a well-weathered face that was breaking out in a grin as Sam moved forward to embrace him. Ashley vaguely recalled the name of Marshal Deputy Chad Gaultier; he had been a Deputy on Therum when Sam Collins had been, before the famous shootout that netted her the President of the Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters and her own crooked Marshal. A dozen Deputies in the Marshal's Office of Nova Yekaterinburg had been equally as corrupt as Marshal Bart Weathers; most, but not all. Chad Gaultier had been proven innocent of allegations, investigated by the newly-minted Marshal of Therum herself, Sam taking over her boss's job as she collared the biggest criminal on her planet as well as his greatest contributor, Marshal Weathers. Deputy Chad Gaultier hadn't been just a Deputy on Therum alongside Marshal Collins; he had been on Torfan, too.

"Good seein' you again, Marse." The former Deputy smiled to his once-upon-a-time boss, looking at her Turian-marked face. "Hey, knew you married the big guy, but a little surprised you went full out after all this time." That implied that Gaultier actually _knew_ Nihlus Kryik, though not if he were a Council Agent or not. If Ash had to guess, she would say that he did know. 'Big guy' didn't mean Turian necessarily, but a lot could be put into that term, including authority. "They ain't givin' you grief back at the Home Office, are they? 'Cuz I'll put Human foot to non-Human ass if I got to, I don't give a shit who they answer to." Williams looked over to Petty Officer Sara Ryder, who was looking back at her with a wry expression, one eyebrow raised. Chad Gaultier knew _who and what_ Sam was. This was likely her best friend, someone she trusted deeply due to events on Therum and Torfan. When she went to the Office of Special Tactics, Deputy Gaultier had known Humanity was gaining a SPECTRE.

"Chad… Nihlus was killed on Eden Prime during the Assault." The Marshal replied, her voice barely strong enough to get the words out, and the man's face fell. "I'm with Captain Shepard now, stopping the Geth and hunting the Turian that killed his protege."

"Jesus. I've heard stories about that guy. Mostly from Nihlus." The former Deputy shook his head. "I'm real sorry to hear that, Sam. I knew how much he meant to you, and what he did for us on Therum. Hell, he looked out for Humanity because of you, we both know that." That… that made a lot of sense, though Ash wondered what Nihlus was doing looking out for Humanity. Obviously something discrete… and obviously final. It wasn't like the Skipper was out hunting common criminals now that she had a SPECTRE's authority. Nihlus and Sam must have been rounding up the elements that slipped through the fingers of Systems Alliance justice, be it the military or the Marshals, the ones too tough to track or crack. Ash had been _proud_ when Commander Jane Shepard had asked her to come with, newly-minted SPECTRE just hours before the call from Therum came, an Angel calling for a Lion. But it seemed that there had been not one but _two_ SPECTREs looking in on Mankind.

Williams' eye caught sight of the littlest in the group, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Doc." Ash got Sara's attention as she looked at the group of colonists… no, _survivors_ , seeing them for what they really were. A bit bedraggled, a bit disheveled, all of them standing close to one another out of sheer despair and struggle. Yet amongst their numbers was in fact a little girl; Agent Zevin Raeka was right. Kid couldn't been more than eight. Three adults were standing very close to the child, protective and sheltering, but Ash noted that none of them really looked like the girl at all; different heritages. Three adults were looking out for a child that wasn't their own.

Orphan, Ash realized with a pang in her heart.

"Everyone, I'm Petty Officer Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria and a Navy Corpsman." Doc moved forward, her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon mag'ed to her chest to free her hands and make her less threatening. Sam was talking to Chad, and Ash noted one man scowling at the Turian colonial mark-faced woman. Fuck him. Lieutenant James Vega was standing at-ease, his Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun resting in a carrying configuration with its muzzle pointed at the ground and his hands rest on the top of the weapon, while the Salarian not-Dalatrass was standing to one side, silently observing. Williams briefly wondered if any one of the survivors actually realized there was a non-Human in the room with them, their attention split between Collins, Ryder, and their own shitty situation. Sixteen… out of over nine hundred. How the fuck had they survived whatever happened here? Ash had to guess someone closed the door and left it closed whenever shit went down, and some people probably got abandoned, wisely or not. At least they weren't cocooned and stapled to a wall. "If you would, please come over here so I can do a quick check-up on everyone for any injuries and concerns, and I can address them now while we have the time." _Good job, Doc,_ Williams thought, knowing what Ryder was doing. Playing the caretaker to get people out of their shells and a little one-on-one interaction would get the story out, away from overbearing presences. These people had been pushed into the Complex by the military, and some deaths had occurred. It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to imagine they probably blamed Big Blue for their situation.

"You can go right out that door and go fuck yourself!" That was the scowler, no doubt the same man who argued to keep the door closed. The group of survivors moved a meter or so away from him, and that was telling. Ash knew the type; loudmouth braggart. Probably made every endeavor difficult by arguing with everything, insisting that _he_ should be the one in charge without any real qualifications or experience, and poisoned others with words and insinuations. There were people who tried to be heroes… and then there were people who _tried too hard_ to be heroes, legends in their own minds but rather lacking in the actual physical department. The man had the look of a roughneck, miner or perhaps an equipment operator. If he were bulky, it was because the pudge rounding out his belly suggested that whatever athleticism the man had was supported by fat. Given that he had a cruel-looking face, early balding that left his forehead and the top of his skull bare, and a weeks' worth of stubble that made his sallow skin even more unpleasant to look at, it wasn't hard to believe that the man won himself no friends or favor. He looked to be the quintessential rube, the colony redneck who'd bitch about the Alliance and their rules… and then turn around and expect the SA to plop everything on his lap and kiss his ass, too. A petty little man with a puffed up sense of importance. Humanity was filled with them, sadly.

"Are you offering a lady an escort?" Sara just aimed a smile, her tone pleasant but her eyes anything but. "It would be the gentlemanly thing to do, after all." Ash tried to hide her smirk, knowing that the Corpsman was either goading the man into doing something stupid, or branding him a coward. Well, he'd have no one to blame but himself. It'd take a special sort of stupid for someone to try and physically accost an armed member of the Systems Alliance Military. And he didn't even know that Sara was Biotic and able to run mental laps around him.

"Ten Credits says he's too dumb to recognize her armor." Williams told Vega out loud, her voice definitely vocal enough for the colonists in the Complex to hear. Vega just snorted, shaking his head and smiling. Sara was wearing HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, plain for anyone with a pair of eyeballs to see.

"Ain't looking to lose money, Lone Wolf." The burly _Latino_ replied, rotating his shoulders. "Looks like he had too many fatburgers and French cries to me." That had the Colonial Soldier chuckle as the man in question went red in the face, but thankfully went silent. Either he did in fact recognize Sara's SPECTRE Armor… or realized he was about to get his ass kicked hard if he tried anything. He stood silent and sulking in the pit of the Command Post with the others, his face dark as he looked at the team that had arrived.

"Okay, folks, if you could," Ryder continued with her original plan, "I'll string up a privacy curtain and get you checked out. I want to make sure everyone is in good health before we have to do anything. That gives us time to come up with a plan that gets you out of here and in a condition in which you can do so." The argumentative man muttered loud enough to let everyone know that he was while keeping his words from reaching a point where someone could justifiably do something about it. That man was a walking, talking liability case that was going to get other people hurt. "Is there anyone with more serious injuries that need to be looked upon first?" Sara was playing the nice nurse routine, kickstarting with the bedside manner to coax a few of the survivors out of their protective shells.

Ash felt a tap against her thigh armor, and she looked down to see the little girl from before standing next to her, looking up to her with big blue eyes, dirty unruly blonde hair, and a dirty face.

"Are you here to stop the monsters?" The little girl asked, her British-accented voice not even afraid, just… resigned. Ash took to a knee and looked into the girls' eyes, seeing her dressed in a colonists' work-related dungaree sized for a child. The uniform was dirty as well, and torn a little at one shoulder and along another sleeve. Those big blue eyes had seen too much horror, Williams saw.

"We don't exactly know what we're facing, so we're going to learn first." The Soldier replied, her left hand passing over the child's bracelet on her left wrist on purpose; a Colonial Identification Tag. "See those two, Sara and Raeka? They're the brains." The little girl looked to the Corpsman and the Salarian. "Me and the big guy over here, James? We're the heavy hitters. Sam over there is a bit of both, but she's been through tough situations before. We all have." Ash queued up her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool, having scanned the girls' CID marker, and got her name. "We're going to get you out of here, Rebecca." The tag had come back with _Jorden, Rebecca_ as a name.

"Newt." The little girl replied.

"My name is Newt."

* * *

Author's Notes: Yes, this is pretty much the sweep-and-clear of _Aliens_ mixed with the pod people of _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_. No facehuggers or xenomorphs, thankfully. You'll be seeing where I'm going with this in the next two chapters.

I touched a little more about the early life of Jane Shepard and Sara Ryder, where I've mentioned that Jane spent her mothers' deployments with the Ryders.

Aww, Ash and Li are getting sweet with one another. This is most certainly what I've been planning on for some time, working on more non-standard relationships. I know I keep getting asked on who I'm shipping Shepard with, but seriously? Four combat tours in the Middle East and I didn't have a relationship with anyone and I certainly didn't shrivel up and die.

Shave-and-a-haircut, ten-cents! Yes, for some reason in the Mexican culture, this tune is an insult. I guess Looney Toons didn't make that much of an impression.

For those who read _Where The Law Stands Tall_ , Deputy Chad Gaultier was a minor OC who survived the Purge along with Mark O'Brien. In this story, he continues on with Marshal Samantha Collins, and was even on Torfan with her.

The Icebox? - I can't remember the name of the kid-oriented sports movie back in the 90's where there was a female athlete named _Icebox_. Back when I was ten, I had no idea what that actually implied; a frigid c-word. This was a Disney live-action movie! (I want to say it was one of the Mighty Ducks movies) [thank you Google, it was _Little Giants_ , Becky O'Shea being the best player of a football team made of weaklings]

Rebecca Jorden is, in fact, the little girl from the movie _Aliens_ , the one that insists being called 'Newt'. I used her back during the _Mass Effect vs. Aliens: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope_ story, and it just seemed right to place her here. After all, bad shit happens, and there are generally kids around when bad shit happens. Newt will represent that (just like she did in _Aliens_ ).


	34. The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, IV

_Dear Marauder Shields, you should have gone for the head._

 **Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 10, 2183**

Author's Note: Get ready for the Siege. WARNING! Expect crew loss.

Also posted up a new side hobby; _Battle Royale: Fett vs. Shepard - No Disintegrations_. What happens when you pit the galaxy's most ruthless bounty hunter against humanity's most lethal N7? Why, a story, of course! Watch as the Hound of Mandalore and the Butcher of Torfan square it off throughout the events of _Mass Effect_.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in a partitioned section of the Command Post of the Hadley's Hope Complex; a square room that was cordoned with work stations and terminals set in a horseshoe, with a large screen to detail ongoing operation throughout the colony. Sara had taken a few spare pieces of scrap to make a wall to check out the survivors medically, disappointed but not at all surprised by what she saw. The sixteen survivors were likely all malnourished if the first two were any indication, checking o the most injured of the lot, a man with cracked ribs that had been taped pretty well by former Deputy Chad Gaultier, and a woman who had suffered a nasty gash on her arm during their horrifying escape attempt.

Both had told her what happened. Sara had to endure that horrific story twice.

The next patient she saw was the young girl, Rebecca Jorden, who called herself Newt. Standing next to the little girl was Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams, the eight-year old girl having taken the Colonial Soldier with her. Ryder had been touched by the scene, the girl having latched onto Ash almost immediately, and was it any real surprise? Ash was tall for a woman, strong, proud, and well-armed. There were other women amongst the survivors, but despite having been stuck with them for a week, Rebecca hadn't latched onto them like she had with Williams. It had been perhaps an hour before Sara was seeing the little girl, and in that hour, she had bonded with the Lone Wolf. Sara could tell it had been mutual; Ash hadn't been more than a few steps from little Rebecca. The Corpsman knew they had probably talked, Rebecca no doubt telling her story in bits and pieces. It was easy to tell that her parents were gone; no child would have latched to a stranger like that unless her whole world was gone. The thought of it broke her heart, but seeing Newt giving Ash shy looks, never letting the woman out of her sight, it gave Sara some comfort. In a time of desperation, Newt had found her own chosen guardian in Williams. Good for her, for them both, really.

"Well, I see that I have the best medicine right here," Sara smiled to the little girl as she reached into her MedBay, pulling open a small compartment to reveal her private stash of candy. Ryder pulled out a Charms' lollipop, its white and green wrapper centuries-famous. "Just don't tell the boys, now." The Corpsman gave the little girl a smile as she handed over the lollipop, Rebecca returning the smile as the wrapper came off and the lollipop went right into her mouth. Rebecca got a clean bill of health, a little malnourished, but nothing bad. Gaultier had enforced rationing from the get-go, and the supplies were holding out, the survivors having at least another six days worth of food at the same two meals-a-day routine they had been keeping. Forcing people to ration was a hard thing to do, especially people without any real experience in that kind of discipline. No doubt the man who had been giving them issues before, William Hope, had made that even more difficult. The man in question was sitting at a station that was powered down, as far from the group as possible. Sara knew that Lieutenant James Vega was mostly keeping an eye over the survivors, the bury _Latino_ having a bit of a guilt-streak about their treatment though he hadn't been a part of it. But for Mister Hope, Vega spared an eye, knowing a threat when he saw it.

"Is she doing good, Doc?" Williams asked, her hands on her armored hips, looking to Rebecca with a rather maternal look. Oh yeah, Newt had Army wrapped around her little finger already. Ash had three younger sisters, so looking out for little girls was a skill set the Colonial Soldier had in spades. Perhaps Rebecca had seen that quality without ever knowing, going for the woman she somehow _knew_ would look out for her no matter how bad things were. Honestly, little Rebecca Jorden couldn't have picked better. Ash would drag that little girl right out of Hell.

Fitting, considering that, according to the previous two survivors Sara had talked to, they pretty much found themselves smack in the middle of.

"A little more food and a change of venue is exactly what Doc Ryder recommends." Both of them knew that only one of those would be solved. "But the best medicine?" The Corpsman pointed right at the Sergeant First Class. "You." That had the Soldier blush a little, but she didn't do anything to ward off the suggestion, either. "If had to guess? You probably resemble someone." That came off quiet, not wishing to suggest it to where the young girl could hear it, but Ash nodded her head slowly, obviously arriving at a likely conclusion; Ash probably looked a fair deal like Newt's mother. In a terrible situation, the Rebecca clung to a woman who resembled her mother, but also one that appeared strong enough and tough enough to get her through an ordeal. The way Ash was already doting on her? Part of it was maternal instinct; women were built to raise and protect children after all. But Sara remembered the _Horizon_ , when the hordes of Husks had clogged the corridors to kill them all, and the terrifying realization that the Geth had converted _everyone_ , children too. Many of the Normandiers had taken that knowledge hard, and Williams had asked Ryder for medications that would give dreamless sleep if they existed after that soul-wrenching mission. Ash had finally told her why; there had been a toddling Husk, a child of around two or so years of age turned and assimilated. The Corpsman knew what that was about; Ash felt like she killed a _baby_. It was a terrible feeling to have, and a grief that likely would never truly heal. Seeing Ash talking to Newt like a caring mother to a loved child, Sara having finished her basic check-up, Ryder knew she was seeing the opposite.

Ash would absolutely fucking _destroy_ anything that tried to hurt a child in front of her.

* * *

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins (SAMS, OST) stood by the Operations Center of the Command Post, where the Colonial Governor would have worked if he or she were still alive or around. Her former Deputy, Chad Aaron Gaultier, was standing with her, looking down at a map of the Main Complex that they were in, where the Systems Alliance Marine Corps had stuffed them in when the population of Hadley's Hope grew to be too unruly with their oppressive rule. Chad had informed her of some of the more delightful details of that experience, sending red, hot anger through her soul. The Marshal of Feros, Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila, was a woman she knew; a tough, no-nonsense Marshal who was a little bit of a hard-liner when it came to being a cop, but a good woman who took her job seriously. Chad had come to Hadley's Hope to have a retirement he would enjoy; to be useful while using his skills as a Deputy to help out without actually having to be a cop. When Sam had first arrived to Nova Yekaterinburg's Marshal's Office, Deputy Gaultier had been her partner, a ten-year veteran who had taken a bit of a shine to the young Deputy and only female in the Marshal's Office. For six months, Sam and Chad had pulled patrols in the dusty, rough-and-tumble environs of No'burg, Gaultier teaching Collins not only the ropes of being a cop, but the why of it as well in more ways than just words.

Then she had caught wind of a smuggling operation that involved the most dangerous criminal on Therum, with more than half of her Office in his pockets.

History remembered her as the Marshal of Therum; the woman who stood and face twenty men in a duel and won. But that wasn't the truth. Deputies Chad Gaultier and Mark O'Brien had been at her side, as well as Council Agent Nihlus Kryik. What had began as discrepancies in customs forms from the Mass Translation data she had learned to decipher from a Mass Relay ended up with seven criminals and six Deputies dead, a world famous criminal in her custody, a Marshal's badge on her belt and a Mammothkiller on her hip, and her partner bleeding in her arms along with Mark dead. Both herself and Nihlus had been shot as well, but Sam really thought Chad was going to die in her arms, telling her how proud he was of her for standing for the right thing, refusing to get on the bogroll with Marshal Bart Weathers and the rest when President Niko Dekker of the Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters offered to bribe her for her silence and compliance. The Turian SPECTRE had showed up during her investigation, curious as to why a Human cop was accessing what was believed to be unreadable Mass Relay data so much, his curiosity leading to his involvement. Kryik had let her lead the investigation and eventual prosecution, offering advice and options, but ultimately letting her do her job. Sometime during the three weeks of his involvement before the deadly shootout that would be known as the Showdown of No'burg, they had become friends.

A year later, she had been offered the heady proposition of becoming a Level One Council Agent.

Chad had been there the whole time with her as Sam Collins became a Federal Marshal, able to track criminals throughout Alliance Space with impunity. With her ability to track a ship through a Mass Relay, as well as her Autistic mind giving her distinct advantages of finding ships out in the black, Gaultier joined forces with Sam Collins and Nihlus Kryik, hunting criminals aboard a SPECTRE's ship, making arrests and helping those in their time of need. Chad Gaultier was an anonymous hero, having no desire to be famous. He followed her for years, his practicality evening out her intelligence and drive. He had been the one to give her away at her wedding to Nihlus Kryik, a Level Two SPECTRE marrying a Level Three Turian SPECTRE. The darkness that the galaxy held was no mystery to Chad Aaron Gaultier.

Torfan had almost killed him, and it was then that he had decided to retire, too hurt to continue on.

"So what happened?" Sam asked her friend, happy to see him, but her heart breaking slightly. It had been four years since Torfan, but Chad looked to have aged ten. His blonde hair had started going gray, laugh lines and crows' eyes starting to make themselves known by his mouth and eyes. Back on No'burg, he seemed too tough, near immortal. Now he was getting on in years, and the sight had Collins' heart ache.

"After we got shoved into the pokey," Chad drawled, his Texas accent strong as always, "people got desperate and stupid. Myself, Director Dukakis, that's the Colonial Director, and a few of her Deputies tried keepin' order on the up-and-up and the retardation down. With over nine hundred people shoved in here, things were gettin' ugly pretty quick, Sammy." Sam snorted at her old nickname. Honestly… it felt good hearing it again. It reminded her of a time when she was just a wet-behind-the-ears Deputy who only had to worry about roughneck miners staring at her ass and making lewd comments. "A bunch of the diggers got the idea of tearing up at the floor and tunneling through the bedrock for an escape plan. People… really liked the idea." Gaultier closed his eyes and paused for a moment. "We voted for it. Had people busy and active, workin' together instead of against one another. Knew it wouldn't really work, but I was happy havin' the roughnecks doin' somethin' productive, workin' towards hope. At least they wouldn't be batterin' the walls down and getting a good amount of us killed.

"Those poor bastards found somethin' down there, Sammy. Somethin' bad."

"Unmapped tunnel?" Hadley's Hope had been built on top of a mountain, supposedly, the ExoGeni Corporation not willing to put a bunch of pre-fabricated buildings on a potential collapse in the Prothean ruins of Feros. Bedrock was more stable than a fifty century building with no maintenance.

"Maybe, maybe not." The former Deputy replied, though his green eyes said he thought the tunnel might have been known. "About day three, the miners reached a tunnel, and we thought it a Godsend, that there'd be a cave system that'd save us the work and time. Everyone was elated. Last happy thought we had when a team of about fifty went down with lights and markers and didn't come back. Lord have mercy on their brave souls." Chad looked over to where the little girl was with Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, sitting on a station with the Colonial Soldier right beside her. It was pretty hard not to tell that the little girl had latched right onto the Lone Wolf. Thankfully, Ash had latched right back. "Her Pa was one of them, Russ Jorden. Good man, went in those tunnels for his wife, son, and daughter, to get them out of this mess. He wasn't using brave words, he had the talk of a family man makin' good that promise of seein' his family safe. Your Sergeant looks a good bit like Anne. Probably why the girl went to her first instead of you or your Doc."

"What happened next, Chad?"

"They came." Gaultier replied sadly, the forty-year old man shaking his head sadly as he took a seat, the weariness of someone that had seen too much taking over. "Don't know what they are, but they came pourin' out of the hole we made. Came at us durin' the night cycle, grabbin' colonists and breathin' some sort of green mist on their faces. Don't know what they were, but I saw what they looked like. Like people, but covered in… lichen and vines, like plant people or somethin'. Seen some weird shit in my day, little lady, but that? No, nothin' like that." Sam felt a little reviled at the thought. "People they breathed on would gag and seize on the ground as those plant thin's went and grabbed more. I... I shut the door on about a third of the complex, condemned about a hundred folk to being with them to save the rest, Marse. Waddn't time for a committee or votes." Chad looked over to where the girl, Rebecca, was. "There were families in there, Sammy. That wing was bein' used for quarters. Anne and Tim Jorden were in there, but Newt was here, underfoot. Just… bein' a kid."

"You did right, Chad, you know that." Collins placed a gentle hand on her former partners', knowing that she would have supported his decision or done the same thing herself in his steed. A hundred was a terrible toll, but in the name of saving seven hundred? No one would truly call Chad a monster or heartless, making such a hard decision. People needed a man in their time of need, and Chad Gaultier had been that man. Sam had never been disappointed when he was at her side.

"After I shut the door, we began pullin' in the people who got breathed on," the former Deputy continued, "but we were at a real loss on what to do. Some wanted to take drastic measures out of fear, but thankfully no one had the spine to do somethin' for the two hundred or so we had. Too many were friends and family members, so no one was goin' to start slittin' throats and callin' it mercy. Plenty wanted me to open the door and rescue the people in there, but they were easily outnumbered.

"Then the folk who got breathed on woke up… but they weren't themselves."

Chad went silent. Sam knew better than to interrupt.

"There was something in that mist of theirs, y'see?" Gaultier continued, his voice dead. "Those people got up, their faces changed. Like a green spiderweb had grown under their skin, their eyes bloodshot green. They… they weren't people no more. No manner of talkin' or coaxin' got them actin' normal. They just started attackin' folk, knockin' 'em out and draggin' 'em off, tryin' to pull us towards the wing I had closed off. One of them had gone back and opened the door, and the plant thin's were back, breathin' over the ones the people were takin', and thin's got real desperate and crazy then. Tried pullin' people back to close off more of the Complex, but thin's got bad quick, Sammy. By the time we reached this here Command Post…" Sam looked to the survivors. Out of over nine hundred people, Chad had been able to pull only fifteen others from whatever was going on. For a singular man, that was actually quite impressive. But that kind of math made a heart break. Chad was as tough as they came, but that was the kind of thing that could tear a man or woman apart on the inside.

"Chad." Sam held his hand, knowing her former partner well. He had grown up in the dusty plains of the Texas Republic of the United North American States, raised by a hard-drinking man whose answer to everything had been a belt. Chad Gaultier had made a promise to himself at a young age that he would be a defender, to be a good example of man. Both of them knew that the former Deputy had done the right thing and the best he could in a shit situation, but his heart and his dreams would never _ever_ let him forget. She slipped her hands around his head and pulled him close, letting him rest his head against her armored abdomen, comforting him. They had been through much, through thick and thin, and he needed her now; both for himself and these survivors. She would do it not just because it was her job, but because she knew what it meant to him. She brushed his hair back as he sobbed silently, the once-Marshal of Therum comforting her former Deputy, a man she called partner and friend. In the very depths of Hell, she would be there for him and pull him out of it. Just like he had for her on Torfan.

She had faced worse than plant people, after all.

* * *

Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden sat on a work station as she munched on a military ration candy bar meant to give a Colonial Soldier calories while on extended missions, named a 'Hooah' Bar. It was a silly name for a candy bar, and it tasted pretty bad, too, but Newt didn't care. It was chocolate-flavored and she was hungry. She would have eaten it if it were the worst-tasting thing ever. She looked up to the swarthy-colored Soldier that she had moved to, shyly getting her attention. Everyone that had been in Hadley's Hope hadn't been very comforting; yes, they tried, but then they would turn around and say they were doomed, barely holding together themselves. The nice man, the one they called Deputy Chad, he was good, looking out for her and sharing his rations with her. Most of the rest just sat their and moaned. Then there was the mean guy, Mister Hope. All he did was argue and use bad language, blaming everything on everyone else. Whenever Deputy Chad said something to help others, to encourage them, Mister Hope would get mean and argue over silly things, shouting and screaming and using what her Mommy called _potty language_. She didn't like Mister Hope. Newt didn't think anyone else did either with the way everyone avoided him.

But then _they_ came. Like heroes.

Newt felt her breath taking away, seeing three Human women, a large Human man, and a Salarian walk in, armed and armored and looking like the movies! Two of them were _SPECTREs!_ It was like those old superhero movies her and her brother Timmy watched, where a group of heroic people came in to save the day. It was just like that.

They had taken off her helmets, and Newt's eyes had looked at the one in dark green armor, the Human woman that _wasn't_ a SPECTRE. The little girl felt her jaw drop at the sight of the woman with the dark hair held back in a bun, carrying a really big gun in her hands. Heck, she had a whole _mess_ of weapons on her, like those action vids her father and her brother liked watching, or like _Act of Valor_ or _The Fires Of Heaven_. She looked tough and strong.

But she really looked like her mother.

Not exactly, of course. The woman was taller, stronger-looking, and a little darker in color. Her mother certainly didn't wear combat armor and have a whole mess of weapons on hand, either. Anne Jorden was a good woman who had been a nurse back on Earth, working in a Doctor's Office of some kind, seeing normal office visit patients. This woman looked as if she stepped out of an action vid, ready to take some names and kick some tushy. Newt had heard the woman being identified along with the others. She had heard of Marse Collins, mostly from Deputy Chad, but her Daddy as well. Supposedly some tough-as-they-come cop who had pulled a lot of people from some place called 'Torfan'. There was another they called Chief Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria. That one had her wide-eyed; she had seen the movie, of course. Chief Ryder wasn't a little girl though, but an adult armed with a really big looking gun with _two_ barrels sticking out of it. They called her 'Doc'. She was a Doctor, now? Newt didn't know Doctors had guns.

But it was the Lone Wolf of Eden Prime that held her attention.

Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams was someone who was quickly becoming popular amongst Human media, the sole survivor of a horrific Geth attack on the colony of Eden Prime. Her nickname came from the fact that she supposedly survived against the Geth _alone_ for an hour after her friends and soldiers were killed protecting people. She had joined the ranks of the Lion of Elysium, working along the side of the woman they now called Humanity's First SPECTRE, Commander Jane Shepard. This woman in bulky green armor and big, heavy weapons was a hero working amongst other heroes.

And she looked so much like her mother. It hurt, but Newt was okay with that.

"These Hooah bars are really disgusting." Newt told the Soldier, proceeding to take another bite. It tasted like chocolate and cardboard might. That had the older woman smile.

"Yeah they are." Ashley replied, the smile still on her face as she took her fingers and did her best to comb through Newts' knotted, unkempt hair. The young girl winced whenever Ashley found a snarl or a knot, doing her best to work it out without causing her discomfort. Honestly, it felt nice though. After so many days of being stuck here in the Command Post, always afraid, it was comforting. "They give us those things so we can have the energy to keep going. Unfortunately, someone forgot to add 'flavor' to it." That had Newt giggle. "Think that one is bad? The peanut butter one tastes like peanut butter, but it's so dry you feel like you're eating chalk. Good luck eating two. And then there's the banana one. Pure ugh!" That had the little girl laugh. Bananas were nasty. A banana bar had to be so much worse. Newt ate the bar anyhow, no matter how gross it was. Deputy Chad limited food so they could last longer, but she was hungry pretty often. She wolfed down the Hooah bar without any real complaint.

"Any other weird snacks they feed you in the Army? Moldy bread? Flat soda?"

"You forgot the runny stew and lumpy milk." Newt made a face, Ashley laughing. She had a nice laugh. "Back in garrison we eat in chow halls. Army cooks leave a lot to be desired, honestly. But when we're out on patrols or exercises, we eat you-grees."

"What's a… You-Gree?" The little girl asked.

"UGRE. Stands for… something retarded. Unified something-or-'nother." That had the little girl giggle. "Army can't have something unless they name it weird and backwards. Can't just call it 'meal in a box' or 'portable dinner'." Newt giggled again. Ashley was funny, and the little girl couldn't remember the last time she laughed. "Most of it was okay. Snacks were generally the best parts, though. Had this strawberry crumbcake that was actually pretty good. But then they went and messed up spaghetti. How do you screw up spaghetti?"

"By… joining the Army?" Newt felt like cracking a joke, and watched as the older woman's face just drop in astonishment. From to their left, there was an audible snort as Chief Sara Ryder stuck her head from around the partition and gave the little girl a smile and a thumbs-up of acknowledgment, mouthing the word ' _nice'_.

"Okay, you win this round." Ashley stuck her tongue out at her, and Newt smiled triumphantly.

For a brief moment, she didn't feel fear. And for that, Newt loved her.

* * *

"Okay, this is _bullshit_."

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams looked over from Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden to see the pudgy loudmouth William Hope standing up from his self-imposed exiled away from the other survivors of Hadley's Hope. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was finishing up the last medical examination of an older gentleman who elected to be last because he thought himself to be in good enough health to let others go first while Marshal Sam Collins conferred with the former Deputy of hers, Chad Gaultier. 2nd Lieutenant James Vega had been hanging loose near the door that they had come in, knowing that the survivors would probably not want to be near him as well as keeping post on their only access. Agent Zevin Raeka was busily working on a terminal, accessing logs for the Complex, getting an idea what they might be facing as well as the current state and status of their route out. Unfortunately, it seemed that the cameras for the Main Complex had been tampered with sometime during the insurrection against the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit and the colonists of Hadley's Hope, and not much could be gleaned. Ash had been telling Newt stories, some of the very ones that her father use to tell her when she was a little girl, some of the Greek Classics and others of the Heroes of Men. She had been regaling the story of Orpheus and the Underworld when the loudmouth decided to make his presence known again.

"How much longer are we going to fucking wait here? It's been over four Goddamn hours!" Mister Hope demanded, his voice crass and obstinate. He was on his feet, moving to the middle of everyone with a raised voice as if he couldn't be heard in every part of the Command Post at its furthest point. _Someone wants to play ringleader_ , Ash thought with disgust, knowing the man was going to cause a scene just to rile people up. This was the kind of guy who would stand behind a protesting crowd and throw a brick at cops or soldiers to incite the Officers to protect themselves, and then blame it all on the same cops or soldiers, never admitting to the fact that it had been him to cast the first stone. If they left prematurely, people could die. If they left with him in tow, he'd likely do the absolute _wrong_ thing that would get people killed.

"Not all the check-ups are done, sir." Sara called out from behind her partition, bless her heart. Her answer was a lot nicer in response and tone than Ash's would have been. "Still got a couple more to go after Mister Jackson here. Unless you plan on having someone with a potential injury or illness risk themselves and others?" Ryder was playing the medical card, the only one who could. If he said anything against it, the rube would look like a belligerent asshole for making someone suffer and risking their lives. Rebecca was looking at the man in question with an apprehensive face. She didn't trust the man, she had said. Even a child knew better.

"All your fucking fault." The man snarled, actually getting the hint that he had no leg to stand on, but still wanting the last word. "You put us here in the first place!" James was thankfully silent, merely looking at the man with a thousand meter stare, smart enough to know that actually arguing with him would likely make things worse. "You're the one who put us in here with _monsters!_ "

"Will, they didn't bring the monsters in." Chad Gaultier corrected the man, who merely muttered obscenely under his breath. Rebecca whimpered a little, and Ash took her hand into her own larger one, the little girl obviously remembering the 'monsters'. She wasn't going to dispute the term; she had seen Husks, as well as what happened to Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong. Monsters did exist, after all.

"No, but you brought _these_ monsters in!" Will was screaming, spittle flying with his words, pointing right towards Williams. "Now we're stuck with _them!_ " Shit, Ash wanted to tell the man to shut the fuck up, but likely that would just make things worse.

"Not monsters."

That brought everyone up short as Agent Zevin Raeka spoke, typing at a terminal. Most everyone had seemingly forgotten the not-Dalatrass as she looked up security footage.

"Monsters imply the unknown, a fear one cannot describe." Her black eyes went from her work to the survivors, and then back to the terminal. "Everything has an origin, an explanation. When you opened the tunnel, something was already underneath the colony, something already there. You did not know of this when you wished to escape, and those who went down disturbed something. Something trapped. Perhaps trapped… on purpose?" The Salarian looked up from her work again, her three-fingered hands ceasing. "Humanoid, organic, capable of transferring some form of control into others. A self-replication organism."

"A _sentient_ self-replicating organism." Sara came out from behind her partition, Mister Jackson coming out as well buttoning up his shirt as the Corpsman spoke, her tone thoughtful. "Never heard of one being so complex, though. An intelligent virus that could control a host implies not only mutating RNA, but a broad intelligence matrix to override a hosts' free will." Doc Ryder frowned for a moment. "There was a species capable of such long ago, back during the Prothean Era."

"The Thor'rians." Zevin answered, nodding her head. "Yes, I remember that class session about extinct space-faring species. A supposed organic construct that spawn through the use of others; a parasitic growth that replicated through the use of…" The Salarian looked to Doc Ryder, her lipless mouth opened, but not saying a word. "Void." That sounded suspiciously like a swear word.

"What?" Sam Collins asked, looking to the Salarian and the Corpsman, the two Academy Alumni exchanging glances. That couldn't be a good thing, when two highly-intelligent and educated people looked at each other like that, Ash thought. Newt scooted closer to her as Williams placed an arm around the girl's thin shoulders for comfort.

"Bodies." Sara replied, looking disturbed. "Prothean data suggests they hunted the species to extinction because they planted spores into the bodies of its victims for nourishment and propagation. It _feeds_ off of sentient lifeforms, supposedly gaining in intelligence as well as knowledge. A cannibal plant with the taste for brains."

"And we're fucking stuck in here with it?" William Hope asked, incredulously.

"I think we built a colony on top of its prison or hiding spot." Ryder replied, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Only spot of solid ground in a thousand kilometer area, a mountain with a tunnel system. Protheans didn't pave over it or build on top of it. We just came in and plopped a town on top none-the-wiser. And then we accidentally went and opened the prison gate. Those pods we passed by? The chrysalids?

"They're _troops_."

It was dead silent inside the Command Post for a good long moment as the news was absorbed.

" _You fucking bitch!"_ Mister Hope exploded in fury, aiming his anger at Sara. _"You stuck us in here!"_ The man's hand dipped to the nearest station and picked up the first object that came to his hand; a common datapad. Before anyone could stop him, the colonist hurled it towards Sara Ryder like a ninja star, the PlastiGel frame spinning end-over-end rapidly as the Chief merely ducked the flying object that was close enough to her head to necessitate it as it continued on its course.

And struck the access panel for the door to the Command Post that was behind her a couple meters away.

Williams was absolutely dumbfounded as the pad struck the access panel, opening the door. Vega cursed out ' _¡Madre de Dios!'_ as he pivoted, drawing his Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, raising it and extending it into combat operations as Ash stepped in front of Newt at the same time she pulled her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun from her chest, cursing while Sara grabbed her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon, crying out in warning as everyone saw the door open.

And revealed a corridor full of mossy-looking humanoid monsters.

* * *

" _¡Madre de Dios!"_ Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder heard the exclamation as she lifted herself upright after having ducked the flying object flung at her by the aggressive colonist William Hope, dodging the datapad. She turned to see that the datapad had struck the access panel to the entrance of the Command Post, opening the door to reveal creatures that looked to be covered in moss and vines, almost like those pictures of Earth where people styled their bushes into shapes of animals and people, but much thicker and certainly mobile. There were easily dozens right at the door, forcing their way through as 2nd Lieutenant James Vega opened up with his M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, pouring gunfire right into the breach as an easy dozen spilled out through the opened portal, several of them falling on the floor only to get back up while others tried to force their way in through the clogged entryway as Sara pulled her M-37 Falcon and activated it, her heart thrumming with adrenaline and fear.

"Fall back!" She screamed as a mossy creature jumped and leapt towards her, the Corpsman putting a shotgun round right into its chest, halting its progress and dropping it to the deck a few meters away as several more began running towards them. She engaged two more with her shotgun, the round staggering the creatures back but there were so many pouring through the door as Sergeant Ashley Williams added her own fire with her M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, trying to seal the breach with rounds as more tumbled into the Command Post as Sara tried to shoot them, her one rounds aided by Agent Zevin Raeka's Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle and Marshal Sam Collins' Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' ECS-10 Modulus Battle Rifle, sweeping up the ones that got past Vega's and Williams' fire. Sara switched from her shotgun to her assault rifle on her Falcon, letting the shotguns' heatsink cool while engaging with her five-round burst assault rifle, putting the creepy-looking things down as quickly as she could. Much to her dismay, she saw that many that were shot and fallen were getting back up, seemingly uninjured. Former Deputy Chad Gaultier joined in, pulling Sam's Springfield Arms Model XD Seven-Five Service Pistol to add to the defenses, trying to quell the amount of creatures barging their way in as Vega cursed out loud; his heatsink had reached capacity and needed to be cooled. He switched to his Hahne-Keder M-5 Kessler Pistol, but it was hardly an effective tool.

"We've got to decimate the bodies!" Ryder called out as she went from assault rifle to shotgun, pumping round through her Falcon as fast as she could, acquiring and firing targets that were constantly falling into the room from the tide that was pushing its way into the Command Post. Lord, they were practically _stuffing_ themselves through the door! Bullets weren't causing enough injuries. "Army! Frag!" Williams complied by grabbing a pre-made grenade with her left hand and chucking it at the door, the anti-personnel device exploding a few seconds later, blowing chunks off the mossy-looking humanoids, a few limbs sheared off as the explosion held the tide back for but a second, staggering a few that were already in the Command Post.

It wasn't enough.

Sara switched her Falcon for 'fun', putting five round bursts and a shotgun blast with each trigger pull, the effect downing the creepy things with each engagement practically obliterating the chests of each of the creatures as they were knocked back from the force. None of them had any kind of kinetic defenses or armor, but they almost didn't seem to need it. Physical trauma seemed to stop them, not merely internal injury. While the 'fun' setting seemed to permanently stop the moss-covered humanoids, she only got six shots before she had to vent both of her heatsinks. Ryder clapped her Falcon to her chest after she downed six of the creatures and drew her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, cocking and firing it single-handedly as she pulled her HMWSM MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Submachine Gun, firing it after she went through the revolvers' rotating heatsinks and holstered the weapon to engage the creatures with her SPECTRE Submachine Gun. The Mammothkiller blew holes right through the humanoid assailants, the shots going through them and sometimes striking another behind them, but the Submachine Gun wasn't nearly as effective as Sara fired in a sprinkler-fashion, engaging four targets in front of her before sweeping back. She didn't put any of them down. She realized that only heavy calibers were doing the trick as Marshal Collins began cutting through a swath of creatures with her SPECTRE Mk. I Shotgun, practically splitting the moss-covered humanoids in half while Sergeant Williams did the same with her Kassa Fabrications' Armageddon Objective Shotgun, each blast putting a creature on its ass. Sara switched from her Submachine Gun to her Falcon, putting more shotgun rounds into the tide of invaders that were spilling into the Command Post.

They had been retreating the entire time while the room was steadily filling up with more and more of their kind.

"We need an exit!" Sam shouted as she quickdrew her own Mammothkiller, putting down six of the plant-like things quickly before going back to her Modulus. "Chad!"

"Only way out is the vent shafts! Too tight for us!" The former Deputy replied as he continued to engage with Sam's XD Seven-Five Pistol, not able to do much with it but still adding to the totality. "Newt might make it out!"

"On it!" Williams declared as she worked her way over towards one of the walls of the Command Post, her Reverent firing long bursts into the entryway to stem the tide as much as possible, as James was doing with his M-56 Marshal. She reached the obvious panel that was a screen covering for the Complex's atmo exchanger as she kicked it in with her armored boot, staving the screen to where some of its edges were pried from the wall. The Colonial Solder stepped on one of the bent edges and tore the metal screen with her foot, opening the access. The creatures were being shot and held back, but just barely as Ash took a knee by the opening. "Newt! Honey! Get in the vent!" Sara was firing her MA Revolver as she ducked down and found the little girl huddled with the other survivors, packed in a corner. The colonists of Hadley's Hope were looking at their very fear filling the room, frightened beyond sense as Ryder grabbed Newts' arm and led the eight-year old girl towards the vent. Sara grunted as she felt resistance and looked back to see, of all things, that _asshole_ William Hope clutching the girls' other arm, making her cry out in pain.

" _What about the rest of us?"_ The man screamed, stopping the Corpsman from saving a child. _"You can't fucking leave us here to die!"_ Sara snarled as she pistol-whipped the man across the face, knocking him to the side as he let go of Rebecca's arm, Ryder pulling the child towards the only available exit. Williams holding position, guarding the only way out as she fired her Armageddon Shotgun into the tide of creatures, keeping the only exit free. Dozens of creatures were in the Command Post, none of them able to fire at the door to hold back the tide, having to engage those closest to them out of desperation.

And they were losing.

"Ashley!" Newt cried out as Sara got her to the opened vent, the little girl pulling away to hug the Colonial Soldier, wrapping her small arms around Williams' neck, hugging her fiercely.

"Get out of here, kiddo!" Ash begged, her brown eyes filled with tears as she held the child with one arm, hugging her back. "You crawl and you don't look back, Newt. Do that for me." The Soldier give a fierce kiss on the little girls' forehead as Sara engaged the oncoming tide of creatures with her Falcon, covering for the little girl as Newt slipped inside the vent, her youthful face streaked with tears as she sobbed, crawling into the vent, disappearing from view. "Worth it." Ash said as she began firing her Reverent once more in devastating sweeps. Sara knew what she meant; they were going to die securing the exit of just one child. Her heart had broken at that parting.

"Agreed." Ryder pulled out her MA Revolver and fired it six times as she heard Sam cry out _Chad!_ , seeing the former Deputy being tackled by several of the creatures. Sara saw the Marshal pull leather and tried to shoot the assaulters attacking her friend as Collins herself was collided with a couple of moss-covered creatures herself. Sara fired the last shot out of her heatsink to free Sam, taking the head off of one of the humanoids as she saw several of the creature breath onto Chad Gaultiers' face, some toxic green mist exuding from the dark holes that were their mouths. _NO!_ , Sam screamed as she reached for the man, struggling to reach him as Chad gasped and coughed. Vega hammered a creature that had latched onto him with his fist as several more swarmed him, the large _Latino_ man using his M-56 Marshal as a melee weapon to swipe them away as Collins' head was pulled back as a creature jumped on top of her and breathed upon her. _Sam…_

Sara was still trying to engage as many of the creatures as she could, the press of them spilling over as she and Ashley continued to fire, the Soldier switching to her shotgun as Vega fell from the press of moss-covered creatures jumping on him. Raeka was pulled to the ground, something grabbing her foot and yanked, bring the not-Dalatrass to the ground and dragging her towards the mob as she continued to fire into the crown before the sound of her M-55 Argus went silent, Vega disappearing as the tide consumed him, bodies spilling over him as the Marshal Machine Gun went silent. Sara and Ash had their backs to the wall in front of the opened vent, still firing as the creatures absolutely flooded the room. Several were pouncing on the survivors, the people screaming in terror as they were tackled or dragged away, and Ryder felt her heart break at the sight of a woman getting breathed on as she continued to pour rounds into the mass of assailants, another man being dragged inside, trying to swing a chair as a weapon but not even lasting a second. Ash grunted as she dumped the entirety of her heatsink of her Reverent into the onslaught, shredding plant-things with the pouring fire of her light machine gun as Sara fired with her Falcon, turning the weapon at a diagonal plane so that the muzzle climb would stick small arcs through the approaching crowd less than a meter away. Green hands were stretched towards them, and there was nowhere to go.

"Doc!" Ash cried out as she fell, something getting a hold of her foot and bringing her to the ground. Sara grabbed one of Williams' hands, holding onto it tight as she pulled out her MA Revolver and fired, trying to drag Ash back as hands grabbed at her, pulling at her as she struggled. "Doc! Let go!" Despite the fear on her face, Ash's brown eyes were calm and knowing. Sara hated herself as she did, slugging a monstrosity with her fist as Ash was flipped on her back and breathed upon by no less than six of the mossy creatures as Ryder fought back, trying to free herself from the clutches of the horde. Sara opened herself to her Biotics, the tingle of electrical current running down into her hands as she wreathed her fists with biokinetic force and began to slug her way free, her punches knocking creatures back into the press, buying her a little room as she gathered the energy within her, concentrating as she shoved a hastily-made wall of force in front of her, a wave of force pushing outward to knock back the dozens pushing against her. Sara's victory was short lived as she was tackled from the side, sending her careening into and over a work station as she fell on her back with something on top of her. Hands went around her neck as Ryder struggled, grabbing the hands to pull away and looked up at what was on top of her.

It was Ash. But it wasn't.

Green veins were growing along her face, decorating her skin as the Colonial Soldier croaked and growled, her brown eyes decorated with green bloodshot corneas as she pinned Sara to the floor. Sara tried to get up from off the floor by shifting Ash's weight from directly on top of her, but the Soldier and her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Armor were too heavy. Ash was looking at her, but there was nothing Human in those eyes as Sara struggled, seeing moss-covered creatures pouring into sight.

"ASH! LET GO!" Sara screamed, desperate to free herself as green hands grabbed at her, pulled at her. The Corpsman fought back as best she could from her position, unable to get enough force or strength with her back on the floor and Williams on top of her. Several creatures loomed over her, their black maws opening as her arms were grabbed, unable to defend herself. _"ASH!"_

And mist was breathed upon her, enveloping her face and filling her lungs.

* * *

Author's Note: Canon? What Canon?

And I had to give an ode at the top for the worst final boss fight ever; a simple marauder (with shields) that shoots you in the shoulder. Should have gone for the head to prevent us from seeing that shitty ending.

Deputy Chad Gaultier was slated to be a part of Marse Collins' team in _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ , and even into _The Fury Of Our Makers' Hand_. Having him with her on Torfan ( _In The Season Of Wither_ ) might have been a possibility if I had ever made it that far into the _Peacemaker_ Series.

Hooah Bars - I bet there might be a few Vets who remember those disgusting things. They came in a variety of shitty flavors; chocolate, peanut butter, banana, cookies and creme, and apple. Every single one of those things sucked and felt like you were eating a terrible version of a Clif Bar… which is what they were.

I knocked Army cooking here pretty hard. For all you 92F, please don't think that reflects you as individuals. But on deployments, I contracted no less than five cases of food poisoning from Army-ran DFAC's, not the ones populated by Pakis. Had a camp where the entire population got hit with _Salmonella_. So… yeah.

UGRE - Unified Ground Ration Entree - It's actually a full meal meant to be cooked for a group of people (I think a section, so probably 16-24). They're… not horrible. Certainly better than most MRE's, can be fully cooked, and some of the components can't double as a lethal weapon (such as the wheat snack bread or the vegetable crackers… not to mention the entirety of the scrambled egg breakfast thingie that I think breaks the Geneva Conventions under the subject of torture).

I wanted to have a bit of a bonding moment with Ash and Newt, as one of the whole points of _Aliens_ was for Ellen Ripley and Rebecca Jorden to become a surrogate family in a time of desperation. While you might think it was quick in this story (and it kind of was, but realistically it's been a couple of hours in-story time) how long do you think Ripley and Newt had in between the massacre of the Marines and the Invasion of the main complex? Couple hours?

William Hope is actually a Canon character… in the _Aliens_ movie. This is the name of the actor who plays Lieutenant Gorman in that movie. Considering I've inserted Jeanette Vasquez and Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden, I needed an asshole. I also mention Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila… who is also an _AvP_ character from the video game _Aliens vs. Predator (2010)_ , the only known survivor of that universe to have an embryo implanted in her by a facehugger but put into cryo to save her life. You'll meet Tequila later on.

And yet another asshole cliffhanger moment (ahem, _The Astartes_ ). Even one with the loss of a major character (which I'm known for doing, and have done before in this story back in _Fall Of The House Of Therum, IV_ with Jannie being plummeted off a broken catwalk, and crew loss with Private Mikael Holodansk and Lance Corporal Hong Jeong).

Forward unto next chapter!


	35. The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, V

_Meanwhile, at Castle Greyskull…_

 **ExoGeni Outpost, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) was _not_ in a good mood.

"Captain, I know you're pissed about a lot," Frontier Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila said, standing in front of the SPECTRE with her hands raised in a placating manner, "and I don't blame you one bit. Hell, I'm fucking beyond mad as hell, too. But those colonists need real justice, not some middle management bureaucrat with a bullet in his head. We get him to cry out all his sins, and we can fry the big guys who did this." There were only a dozen or so meters from entering the Outpost where ExoGeni Security Forces were holding the fort so to speak against Geth incursions. The five dozen or so people that had escaped the slaughter in the ExoGeni facility had holed up in a separate Prothean building only a few blocks from the skyscraper that the exploration and colonization corporation had been using for their own means, turning it into a headquarters where scientists and technicians had been studying something utterly _horrific_.

Goddamn telepathic, fucking homicidal, wretchedly carnivorous ancient alien plant monster. They'd been fully dropped into a real-life _Little Shop Of Horrors._

And ExoGeni had _known_.

"If you think I'm just going to execute that little shit of an administrator," Jannie told the Marshal, her tone pure steel, "don't worry. Tempting, but no. But I'm going to make him sing and sell out every fucking piece of shit that gave him the orders he enacted, and he's going to find that Citadel Law doesn't understand the concept of judicial immunity against prosecution. I'm going to watch this fucking company _burn_ for feeding colonists for whatever fucking _bullshit_ reason they had." Ethan Jeong had been a trumped-up little shit throwing about his paper authority as if he had any kind of control over a Naval Captain or a SPECTRE. He had been so adamant about Jannie not peeking into company secrets. He might as well put a fucking bullseye on the thought. It wouldn't have even occurred to her to have given a shit about something like that when the Geth were pillaging the Headquarters for whatever reason.

Now she knew what the Geth were looking for. Species 37.

What the fuck did the Geth need of a plant that ate bodies and controlled them with some sort of telepathic bond with its spores?

"Okay, in that you'll have my full cooperation. Hell, I'll pour the gasoline on myself." Tequila replied, looking to her surviving Deputies, both of them. The Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit had captured and transported the Marshal of Feros and her seven Deputies off to some remote location a hundred klicks away from Hadley's Hope; really in the middle of nowhere. With no food and armed only their service pistols, Marshal Aquila had led her men to the next nearest location that she knew of; ExoGeni Headquarters. They had gotten there about the same time as the Geth had, and Tequila and her men aided the ExoGeni Security Forces in getting the employees out of the besieged Headquarters and into an impromptu bunker. She had lost three of her men during that time.

She lost another two more taking the Headquarters back alongside TEAM LION. Tequila was holding onto her grief and anger well.

"Miss Baynham." Lizbeth Baynham, a twenty-something female researcher that had remained inside the ExoGeni facility in order to transmit the data she had uncovered about the 'Thorian' to the authorities according to her own words, meekly came forward, dry-washing her hands nervously. "You will stay here until this fiasco is resolved. I know you want to see your Mom, but I don't need some trigger-happy motherfucker putting a bullet in either your head or her head just because you're excited. You'll be reunited when it's safe, and not a moment sooner. Understood?"

"Y-yes, Captain." The woman gulped a little, looking over to see her guard, the Pilgrim Niki'Raan nar Tombay standing practically right next to her with her Rannoch Industries' Adas Electrostatic Discharge Rifle in her three-fingered hands. The Migrant Fleet Marine Prospect took her left hand and used her two forefingers to point at her own silvery eyes behind her blue-tinted visor before rotating her hand and using the same two fingers to point right at Lizbeth, indicating _I'm watching you_. That had the young woman gulp even more.

"Bra, stick with Niki." Private First Class Louis Broussard nodded once as he took to the researchers' other flank, making the woman look even more meek. "Everyone else? Knuckle up and follow me." The Level Three Council Agent pulled out her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, extending it into combat operations as she strode towards the bunker, having a pretty good feeling that this would go down ugly. Jeong was a whimpering little man who puffed up with his little tin God arrogance when his puny domain was threatened; she knew the type. He would be the exact same kind of asshole that would roll over and show his belly immediately upon actual consequence and repercussion sent his way, likely whinging and crying as he spat out accusations and confessions like a machine gun. Tequila was right; the man was really just some jumped-up thug in a suit, lower-middle management. What they really wanted was the decision-makers, not some mere 'yes man'. The Corporation probably _hoped_ that Jeong would eat a bullet called vengeance before blubbering his way out of trouble so they could erase as much evidence as they could and pin it on him. _Please let the explanation to this bullshit be something something worthy_ , Shepard thought to herself darkly as she strode down the service ramp, her Saber in her hands as Ghost obediently hovered over her right shoulder while Bastila stayed connected to her back, its main weapon ready to drop over her left shoulder to engage or the turret to demagnetize upon her command. _Science, research, the chance of finding something really old. Shit reasons, but I can respect those thoughts._

 _Please do_ not _say money._

Jannie didn't need to think about who wasn't present; she would lose it if she did.

TEAM LION arrived in what appeared to be some ancient parking structure level where ExoGeni survivors were huddled, flanked by the surviving Marshal and her two men, thirteen armed combatants who had spent damn near a Terran day fighting off Geth in the Headquarters of ExoGeni, built into a surviving superstructure that looked to be in better repair than most of the planet. She had no idea who had come up with the thought of using the building as a refuge, but they had guessed right as she caught sight of sixty-two survivors scattered near one of the nearby alcoves, taking shelter in its recesses. A dozen ExoGeni Security Forces Personnel guarded the alcove, taking position in its confines to us its four meter wide entrance as a barrier, none of them having pushed out one patrol or manning the entrance to the level itself to keep eyes on the Geth. Jannie ignored them as she had when she first encountered the survivors, seeing barely-trained, barely-equipped rent-a-cops lightly armored in Elanus Risk Control Services' Defender Light Armor and armed with basic model ERCS M-15 Vindicators, practically basic off-the-shelf equipment one can purchase at just about any weapon vendor with a couple kiloCredits. As a presence, they weren't impressive at all, and whoever was in charge of them (or pretended to be in charge of them) knew nothing about the basic concepts of situational security. The N7 doubted any of the ExoGeni Security Forces had ever served in the Alliance Military, pretending to be brave while being hired out for a job they likely thought kept them away from the front lines. In the back of her mind, she could hear Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams snort at the sight of them, probably with some crass comment wondering _do they know which end of those rifles the rounds come out of?_ It reminded Jannie briefly of the thugs in Chora's Den, a shit little Blue Light District bar/club in the Ream District in the 4100 Sub-Block of the Scow Wards at the tale end of the Shalta/Aroch Enders. Wanna-bes and trash armed with pop guns that made the unfortunate mistake of buying into the empty promise of a criminal underlord who vocally offered ten kiloCredits for the head of the Lion. She had actually been insulted at the bounty; certainly she was worth more than that! Ash hadn't been impressed; either with the bar or the trash.

 _Ash, Sam, Raeka… Sara. I left them back there_ , the SPECTRE thought as she marched right into the alcove, not even giving the two-bit security guards the time of day as they 'suggested' she halt, completely and utterly ignoring them. One would think that the sight of a Council Agent in SPECTRE armor might have them a little more fearful, or perhaps that they were well out of their depths. She wasn't going to waste her time teaching them. _The Marines there, the colonists._ There were supposedly something like fifteen hundred people in Hadley's Hope, and she had no idea what their status was. She couldn't risk a communications at such a range, not with the potential of Geth hacking still being a possibility. Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was carrying the SAM Node, the AI being very useful in encrypting their in-team communications and hacking through both ExoGeni firewalls and Geth tampering, Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya working in conjunction with Sara's 'little brother'. There had been over three hundred platforms in the Headquarters, the Geth fortifying the position as they went through every server and database for 'Species 37', but not finding it in the ExoGeni Network. Lizbeth Baynham claimed to have disconnected the Scientific Research Departments' connection with the rest of the Network to prevent electronic intrusion, but Jannie still didn't feel like she believed the young woman's story of attempting to send sensitive data over an unsecured communications relay during a Geth assault to alert authorities to the situation in Hadley's Hope. It seemed more likely that the researcher cut the hardlines to prevent anyone from discovering what she and her company were doing. At least the woman had the sense to spill her guts to Jannie when confronted with the truth… the second or third time around after being confronted with the question _what the fuck is going on here?_

The ExoGeni survivors looked up to Humanity's First SPECTRE as she entered into their last little stand with her team at her back. Not everyone looked thrilled at the thought of seeing her again.

Least of all Ethan Jeong.

* * *

"Shepard, I guess it was too much to hope that you would die fighting the Geth."

Frontier Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila had to hand it to the low-level bureaucrat Ethan Jeong; the size of his balls had to be near-epic proportions with the way he addressed the Lion of Elysium. This was an N7-qualified combatant who was also a Council Agent! Did the man think her some two-bit thug? Teresa couldn't believe that she had actually pleaded for this piece of shits' life, but she remembered well what 1st Lieutenant Jane Shepard had done to Elanos Haliat when she had tracked him down, the Turian responsible for the Assault on Elysium being executed while streaming live on the ExtraNet. While Tequila didn't really approve of the thought of execution, in Haliat's case she'd make an exception. Thousands had died and hundreds had been captured in the slave raid on Illyeria, the Separatist leader claiming not only responsibility, but also vid-capturing the sale of some of the Human detainees into slavery as propaganda. He earned a lot worse than a bullet to the fringe, and the day that Shepard had executed him had been the death knell for the Skyllian Blitz, the Separatist Insurgency losing its mastermind and figurehead while the Batarian forces lost their partners and their major financiers. The Asian-descent Human male stood his ground with a snobby tone and a defiant cast to his face. Did this asshole really think his even dozen decaCredit weaksauce wanna-cops were going to stop a SPECTRE Kill Team? Tequila had just spent the past twenty or so hours seeing just how damn effective TEAM LION was. They had killed _hundreds_ of Geth where as her and her Deputies were happy if they took down a couple. Aquila had paid for her arrogance, thinking she was tough enough to hang with the likes of the Lion and her crew.

Two of her men had died in that fucking Headquarters building. Shepard had warned them, but Tequila had insisted.

TEAM LION was down two of their own, as well.

"I guess it was too much to hope that you would learn manners since we've last met." The Naval Captain replied, her tone pure steel, not a hint or impression of compassion or mercy. Did this idiot really think he was somehow intimidating to an N? To a woman who had cleaved through Geth forces like Naval fire through plate glass? The Marshal almost wanted to ask the man how he thought this would go down just so she could laugh at his face and see the look in his eyes when he found out how so wrong he was. Probably thought that whatever ExtraNet Distant Learning College Degree he got made him better somehow. Likely forgot that all Commissioned Officers in the Systems Alliance Military all had College Degrees themselves from very prestigious schools on Earth. "I'm going to ask once, and the more honest you are, the better your chances of walking out of here breathing." Tequila winced at that as she kept an eye on the ExoGeni Security Forces, the dozen men looking rather uncomfortable as they found themselves being stared at by a force numerically more superior, and way more better armed and armored. The beast of a Krogan, Urdnot Wrex? Was standing so close to one of them that the red-crested Tuchankan could probably count the man's molars. Chances were, the ExoGeni fake could probably count the Krogan's molars, too.

"Orders from Main Headquarters are clear in this." The Marshal almost had to snort as the man pulled what appeared to be a low-end Nexus Engagement Reliable Firearms' REV-6 Maverick Pistol, a laughably obsolete pistol that was one of the first Mass Effect weapons Human weapons' manufacturers made. It was about as intimidating as a toy gun, and was generally sold to people that couldn't afford a real gun, or weren't allowed one. The way he drew it heavily suggested that he had likely never fired a weapon in his life, holding it single-handedly, his arm straight outward without any flex in his wrist or elbow. Oh yeah, the barrel was shaking slightly, too. Adrenaline spike plus a man too dumb to realize that he was in way over his head. "We are to take control of the situation and purge our systems of any company knowledge 'lest they fall into enemy hands!"

"You mean… like the Geth were doing for the past two or three days? Little late on that one." Shepard snorted, still holding her M-99 Saber with practiced ease, the barrel pointed to the ground as the weapon rested in her hands easily. "Not to mention they came here already knowing of Species 37, your crowning achievement. That's why they're here on Feros, shithead. Probably to capture the damn thing after killing everyone here."

" _I told you to stay away from our companies' databanks!"_ The man screamed, the pistol pointing at the SPECTRE's head to emphasize the point. The guy was losing it. _"I will shoot you!"_

"With… that?" The Captain asked incredulously, looking over to the large Turian in C-SEC Armor, the sniper who never, ever missed. That one? Detective Garrus Vakarian? He was so good that it kind of scared her a little. "That's a 2161 Edition Nexus REV-6 Maverick, about the time we learned of Mass Effect weaponry. Fires a one gram pre-cut packet metal cube that squashes on impact, accelerating at about four hundred meters per second. It causes contusions and lacerations. That's fancy words for cuts and bruises. That's not a gun.

"But this one is." Shepard tapped her M-99 Saber with her trigger finger, tapping the receiver to make her point.

"Your little flunkies over there?" The SPECTRE continued, tipping her head towards the ExoGeni Security detail. "They've got basic ERCS Defender Light Armor with shields that are rated at five hundred Joules of impact resistance, and ceramic plates that are rated at five hundred Joules of impact protection. Big boy cops back on Earth have got better." That was certainly true, Tequila thought. She herself was wearing Rosenkov Materials' Patrolman Medium Armor, which was what the Neo York Police Department and the London TransMet wore. Hers had triple the protection rating that the rent-a-cops had. She certainly wasn't armed with a cheap-ass popgun either, sporting a Kassa Fabrications' M-6 Carnifax Magnum Pistol that she had trained herself to be a crack shot with. Her pistol alone would drop one of the fakin' bacons in a single shot. That Saber of Shepard's probably wouldn't even notice that there was a person involved in its path. "You don't have the authority, the armor, or the guns. And you might want to figure that out real quick before I have Bastila shoot your balls off." The armored assault hover turret's main cannon raised up and pivoted over the N7's shoulder, aiming right at the proscribed location. Ethan's _Monglos_ -colored face quickly drained of its color.

"Make you a deal." The tone was even harder as Shepard took two steps forward, Jeong's quaking gun practically kissing her chestplate as Tequila watched the Lion practically bore beams into the man with her green eyes. "You spill your guts in the next ten seconds, and I'll remand you to Human authority. They observe prosecutional immunity for ratting out like the cowardly fuck you are. When ten seconds elapse and I'm not pleased with what I've heard? I get my Krogan to spill your guts and have my Corpsman stitch you back together so I can send your ass into a Cit IsoCube with an Elcor Level Three sex offender. I'm sure you'll sing then."

"Y-you can't d-do that!" The man squeaked.

"Detective Vakarian? Would you care to enlighten the man?" The Council Agent asked, her tone _pseudo_ -sweet as she looked to the Turian again.

"Council of Law Provision Six, Sub-section Thirteen, Clause Eight details the authority in which a Council Agent can use any means to retrieve intelligence from a wide variety of sources, be it vocal, electronic, signature, or other." The sniper fired off immediately. "There is no restriction against the use of intimidation, force, action, or torture. Considering we downloaded the entirety of your servers, your compliance isn't actually necessary. But it would expedite the capture of others. It might grant you leniency. Personally…" The Turian rolled his cowled shoulders, "I think Wrex is looking forward to disemboweling something. He has an odd fascination for divining things through intestinal augury. It's an ancient Krogan tradition." Wrex just let off an ugly chuckle as the ExoGeni Security Force member nearest the Krogan gulped audibly, practically nose-to-snout with the Tuchankan.

"Ten."

Jeong looked to Tequila, his eyes wide and full of fear.

"Don't look at me. I ain't stupid." The Marshal of Feros told the man, folding her arms across her armored chest.

"Seven."

"W-what about nine and eight?" The man blubbered, the Maverick really quaking in the mans' single-handed grip. Aquila snorted, wondering how far Shepard was willing t… what was she thinking? This was the _Lion of Elysium_.

She probably would, in fact, shoot the man's balls off.

"Might wanna start singing." Tequila offered, seeing Jeong's eyes dart towards her, his lower lip quivering. He obviously thought there would be some heavenly rescue or divine intervention, like a bad dream someone could wake up from. Nope.

" _Four."_

Twelve years in the Systems Alliance Marshal Services as a Deputy, and another two as a Frontier Marshal, and Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila could fully admit she had never seen a man _puke_ out the truth quite as fast or as fervently as Ethan Jeong did, confessing everything while on his knees and blubbering. The man was filled with righteous fear of Humanity's First SPECTRE as the Council Agent's eyes bored into him, extracting every dark, dirty little secret that had ever touched his soul. He fucking disgusted her as the Marshal of Feros discovered his part in it, the who, what, when, where, whys making her seethe. _Money_ , it had been all about money, of course. ExoGeni found an ancient specimen that was a survivor of the Prothean Era that _could actually talk_ , like an organic computer with an intact database. The Corporation had been trading lives for knowledge but they had been interested in tech; weapons, ship designs, Relays, resources, computing… anything to get an edge over its competitors. They hadn't done it for Humanity as a whole, or in the name of science, or any of that. Not that it would have made it right, but at least they would have had good intentions. No, ExoGeni had been feeding colonists quietly to some ancient horror so they could make a shitload of Credits. Ethan's part had been in the delegation of said extraction of knowledge, being a part of the effort that involved feeding some poor soul to a Goddamn killer plant in exchange for ancient knowledge. He hadn't been in charge of the program (thankfully, that fucker had been killed by the Geth, evidently) but Jeong had done it on the promise of a promotion and stock options.

It just made her feel sick to her stomach. Especially when the fucking slug-in-a-suit let slip that Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulick had been introduced on the payroll.

Thankfully, the Marine Gunner Corporal Jeanette Vasquez stopped her from pulling out her Carnifax and unloading the entirety of her heatsink into the mans' skull, her vision binded by rage at the thought of all those colonists forced into the main complex where the Thorian was residing underneath the building in the bones of the leveled mountaintop it had been placed upon. The Marines had been ordered to push the colonists into the building on the orders of their CO, locked into that deathtrap. A thousand colonists for the Thorian to feed upon. The Corporal hadn't been shy to tell the Marshal what had happened in Hadley's Hope, and Tequila had felt sick. When _her_ people needed her, she had been captured and ousted by some fucking bitch who had been bribed and falsified communique with the military to keep up the ruse of colonial upheaval and unrest like they were fucking _Batarians_ or something. A thousand colonists, her responsibility, and their Marshal had been kicked off the reservation and left to die in the wastes of Feros.

Teresa had lost five good men due to this bullshit. God only knew the condition and status of the colonists. Then it hit her hard.

 _I've been the Marshal of Feros for two years,_ Tequila realized, the colony started back in 2178. _They've been doing this shit under my fucking_ nose _for two years!_ Had her predecessor been involved? Marshal Mike Wyatts had been Marshal since the first colonists arrived, and according to the little singing coward, ExoGeni had discovered the Thorian _before_ Hadley's Hope had been established. In fact, that had been the reason they had colonized Feros in the first place, pouring money into the colony knowing they would get a return of investment. Tequila was still seeing red, her right hand held from pulling her Carnifax from her belt and unloading it on the little snake by Corporal Vasquez. _I'm going to be burying five good men because this piece of shit and his suit-wearing masters wanted a fucking profit!_

Three of her Deputies, Yancy Alora, Kalim Ibn Salim, and Veronica Smith had died pulling the employees of ExoGeni from the besieged Headquarters, falling to the Geth. Two more had died taking it back, to discover what the Geth wanted and ultimately saving the colony, Marcus Puller and Karmen Smale giving their lives for a noble cause, for the lives of almost two thousand people upon the planet. Private First Class Oblong 'Kenyan' Ubantu had died as well during the clearing operations, while the Quarian Pilgrim Tali'Zorah nar Reyya had been seriously injured, suffering a severe suit breech from Geth explosive munitions. The Quarian was still in the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle, hovering between life-and-death as the little Navy Corpsman, Seaman Monica Negulesco, fought to save the software expert. Doc Nugee had pulled both Deputies Puller and Smale from the line of fire when they had been overwhelmed, the Deputies shot too many times to be saved despite Doc's best efforts. PFC Ubantu had died in the same explosion that might also take Tali's life, Monica having to make the painful decision to work on Tali instead of the Kenyan. Realistically, Oblong was going to die no matter what medical intervention might have been available, his chest half caved-in and pierced dozens of times from his own splintered Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Armor chestpiece. Doc was an eighteen year old girl who had to make a very painful decision, crying as she fought to save Tali's life, just as she had cried when she couldn't save Marcus or Karmen.

Killed for profits.

It took only a few minutes for Ethan Jeong to spill out everything he knew, getting to the meat of the confession; names. The activities on Feros were already uploaded thanks to TEAM LION, but Captain Shepard knew that there would be deniable operations and implied orders that a decent lawyer could get held up in court, frying little guys like Jeong but pissing out on some of the big-wigs who sat in boardrooms and held prestigious titles. Some of the names belonged to ExoGeni. A few others to other companies that had helped the colonial venture of Hadley's Hope, joining in on the despicable act for a share. Two names belonged to Systems Alliance Colonial Administration, one being the Deputy Director. The web of lies was being revealed, and Aquila was recording every word. There would be a day of reckoning for this shit, and she was going to serve that shit sandwich on a silver platter with a smile. Ethan blubbered out the last of his confession, the man on his knees as he finished selling out everyone he thought a part of the operation, tears streaking his face as he betrayed betrayers in an effort to save his own skin. The redhead stood in front of him, saying nothing during the mans' singing act, merely watching as Ethan Jeong confessed away.

"Is that it?" Captain Shepard asked when Jeong indicated that he was down, a pathetic example of a man weeping on his knees. Tequila was disgusted at the sight.

"That's all I know." The bureaucrat sniveled, looking up to the elite combatant looming over him. "I-I'll be willing to testify for full immunity."

"Is that so?"

Teresa Aquila didn't even flinch when the Captain drew her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-5 Phalanx Combat Pistol and shot the man point-blank in the guts. The survivors of the ExoGeni Headquarters jumped or shrieked at the loud sound of a gunshot echoing through the alcove, but not one member of TEAM LION or her Deputies said a word. Tequila didn't doubt there was any disapproval amongst them. She sure as fuck wasn't sorry to see the snake bleed.

"When we've stopped the Geth and the Thorian," the Level Three Council Agent declared out loud, "we will send evac shuttles to your location to exfiltrate you, but not one moment sooner. I don't doubt that some of you were implicit or in the know of this operation, so don't be surprised when I deliver every single one of you to the Office of Naval Intelligence for interrogation and prosecution. Some of you might be let go without charges if proven you had no knowledge or involvement with this sick fucking atrocity.

"If I were you, I'd brush off your resumes. A change in careers might be a thing to start looking into."

* * *

"Hoss? Get us the fuck out of this shithole and back to Hadley's Hope on the double."

Captain Jane Shepard wished she had some sort of segregated area she could decompress in, somewhere where she could let the stress and the grief and the _rage_ out without showing the others. She had lost her head but for a moment down in that little camp of ExoGeni filth, and had point-blank shot a man in the guts. Oh, Ethan Jeong had been holding a weapon on her a few minutes prior, and certainly wasn't winning any 'Nice Guy of the Year' awards. But she had shot him in his intestinal area knowing that it wasn't immediately lethal; hell, it could take hours or days for real complications to arrive from such a wound. No, she shot him there because it was extremely painful and one _didn't_ die from it for some time.

She would know; she'd been shot in belly three times back on Elysium.

 _Ash, Sam, Raeka… Sara_.

The General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle was making its way through the twisting labyrinth of skyroads and bridgeways over the wastes of the ancient Prothean supercity that loomed above, around, and below them, the crumbling infrastructure easy to see as the vehicle drove down the noted path that was graded and assured to be safe to and from ExoGeni and Hadley's Hope. Jannie had wondered why the Headquarters for the exploration and colonization corporation was so far away from its established colony and only spaceport when heading to the ExoGeni facility, and now she knew; quarantine of information and exposure. At a hundred kilometers away, it would take them nearly three hours to reach Hadley's Hope and whatever shitfuckery was going on back there. Damn near a day ago, Jannie had left that colony thinking the worst they would face would be Geth.

 _Ash, Sam, Raeka… Sara._

The interior of the MAKO was crowded, meant to carry ten but now transporting fifteen, one of them being a Krogan, and another a medical casualty. Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was driving the vehicle while Detective Garrus Vakarian was in the Gunners' position, everyone else occupying the crew compartment seats, strapped in in case of evasive maneuvering or, God forbid, something in the Prothean ruins collapsed. Jannie sat in front of the prone form of Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, the little Quarian Pilgrim sedated so as to give her body a fighting chance of survival. TEAM LION's software expert way lying on the deck of the MAKO at their feet, strapped to a portable contragravity spineboard that had been mag-locked to the deck of the armored personnel vehicle to immobilize her and protect her. Seaman Monica Negulesco was crotched above the Quarian's head, monitoring her vitals while keeping the injured Pilgrim stocked with synthesized Quarian plasma and antibiotics, the Hospital Corpsman doing her damnedest to keep Tali alive despite not being a trained xenomedic. As soon as they got to Hadley's Hope, Jannie would break her own rule and call in an emergency MEDEVAC for Tali while having the bodies of Deputies Marcus Puller and Karmen Smale, as well as Private First Class Oblong Ubantu taken to the SSV _Normandy_ before they got to the bottom of this shitfest. Chief Warrant Officer Patricia Holloway would have to do a software quarantine and purge to make sure no malicious software was transfered onto the _Rey Kenobi_ or the _Normandy_ , but Jannie knew that the Colonial Air Force pilot would do so to save a life. Sending Tali up meant she would likely have to send Monica up too, Doc Nugee likely wanting to monitor Tali's condition before she returned to the _Normandy_ , a fifteen minute flight that could be life-threatening for the injured Quarian.

"How is she, Doc?" Jannie asked softly, seeing the little eighteen year old woman monitoring a holographically-displayed series of vitals that was a readout of the Quarians' basic lifesigns; heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, body temperature, and oxygenation. The N7 didn't really even know the basics for a Quarian; she couldn't say what a normal heart rate was! Doc Nugee had no practical experience herself, working off what Sara had taught the other Corpsman to cover down for her in case Ryder weren't available for whatever reasons, as well as a medical VI App that had simple courses and suggestions for the same scenario for reassurances and questions. Monica was in well over her head, but that wasn't stopping her from going above-and-beyond at her job; saving lives. _Kiddo, you'd be proud of her if you could see her now,_ Shepard thought to herself, seeing this too Goddamn young girl trying to save another too Goddamn young girl. Monica was eighteen, and Tali twenty-two; the Quarian equivalent of a sixteen year old. Oblong had been twenty, same age as Sara. Deputy Karmen Smale had been twenty-one. _Kids, they were just_ fucking _kids_ , the N7 squashed the rage and the grief away, pushing it down for another time. She had people who needed her to keep her shit together so she could set things right and bring them home alive.

 _Ash, Sam, Raeka… Sara._

"Her body's core temperature is two degrees higher than normal, her pulse at twenty-five percent increase, and she's having difficulty breathing, ma'am." Doc Nugee replied, her hazel eyes haunted and pained. She had saved lives over the course of the mission… and lives had been ended in front of her. Now she was struggling to save this one, and she was going to make Death fight tooth-and-nail and cheat like a motherfucker just to say _not this one_. _God, Sara, you'd be so proud of her right now, just like how proud I am of you_. "If her respiration drops any lower, ma'am, I'm going to have to remove her faceplate and intubate her." The way Monica said it didn't make it sound like a good thing. Not only was Tali suffering several penetrating pieces of shrapnel to her body, causing blood loss, but also ongoing allergic reactions to the environment. While Quarian EnviroSuits could seal themselves from breeches as Jannie understood it, it wasn't designed to seal against gaping holes big enough for her to stick her thumb through. Doc had easily slapped seven OmniGel Patches onto the breeches to seal the holes and gain environment integrity much like one did in EVA or in a hostile atmo or environment, but the damage had already been done. Exposing Tali to the environment to intubate her might save her life.

It might kill her, too.

* * *

The General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle rumbled to a halt as Seaman Monica Negulesco felt the tank stop with the announcement of _'we're here'_ from Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss from up in the drivers' seat of the vehicle. It had been almost a three hour trip over the ancient skyroads of Feros from the ExoGeni Headquarters to Hadley's Hope, the tank built for protection and not speed, not to mention avoiding partial collapses and sinkholes in the skyways' superstructure. The entire time she had been monitoring Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya's condition, knowing that a MEDEVAC could have the potential of the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel being shot down and denying TEAM LION any kind of pick up, as well as killing anyone on board. The area hadn't been cleared of Geth yet, and as Monica understood it, no one was answering at the colony.

Considering what they had learned at the ExoGeni Headquarters, everyone feared the worst, the Hospital Corpsman especially.

Monica, of course, knew of the members of TEAM LION before becoming a part of the SSV _Normandy's_ ground forces, serving on the same ship with them for almost a month day in and day out. Having been born and raised on Elysium, the Systems Alliance most diverse colony with nearly a fifty percent ratio between Humans and non-Humans, the fact that many of the team members were of other species didn't bother her in the least, having grown up in that environment. She had spoken to nearly all of them at one point in time or another, mostly with post-training or post-mission check-ups, and also during training modules in which Chief Sara Ryder had gone over Combat Life Saver courses with the members of TEAM LION, the Seaman joining for demonstrations purposes, to get an idea on what to do with other species if Chief Ryder wasn't available, or the off-chance that a Hospital Corpsman was needed to deploy groundside (which could and did happen with Marine deployments, never enough Navy Corpsmen to go around). Monica knew that her volunteering and being involved would get her to where she wanted to be; recognized for her efforts so that she could be recommended for Fleet Medical Training Battalion so she could become a HM-8404; a Navy Corpsman. TEAM LION was her team now; the ones she would fight alongside with during combat, and aid if and when they got injured.

She had certainly gotten her wish, in a much more intense and terrifying fashion than she had expected or had been prepared for.

Thirty minutes before, she had started training Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila the basics of Quarian First Aid, Captain Shepard having put out a risky call for the Kodiak _'Rey Kenobi'_ to pick up their casualties, injuries, and the remaining members of the Marshal Services for a quick pick-up and dust-off. Negulesco was handing over her patient to the Marshal of Feros so Tali'Zorah could be transported to the _Normandy's_ MedBay for surgery, decontamination, and environmental seal while the rest of TEAM LION, including herself, would investigate Hadley's Hope and rescue the colonists, the Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit, and the four members of TEAM LION left behind to aid the colony.

Under the colony was supposedly an ancient horror. Monica could feel the cool dread of fear in her veins at the thought of being mind-controlled.

" _ETA to thrusters down, three-zero seconds."_ The Captain called out, having everyone seal their helmets with the threat of biological contamination now known. Nugee could see that she had at least six hours of recyclable air in reserve, having recharged her Kassa Fabrications' HyperGuardian Medium Expeditionary Armor, her 'Gel storage packs in her armor, her Universal Power Cells and her reserves in her armor, her ammo blocks, and even her hydro package. She had no idea what they were going to be facing, or how long it might take, so she went with worst case scenario and replenished everything to max capacity, stocking up her AidBag with extra bandages and seals now that she was aware of the biological threat. _"Doc? Get ready to transport patient."_ Their position a klick north of Hadley's Hope was being guarded by Detective Garrus Vakarian, manning the main cannon of the MAKO to provide overwatch. So far, there hadn't been any sightings of Geth.

"Aye aye, ma'am." Monica looked over to see Marshal Aquila at the rear of the contragravity spineboard, assisting the carry to the EVAC shuttle while her two remaining Deputies, Jessica Besin and Paulo Franscetti, carried the other spineboard that contained their casualties; they weren't leaving the bodies of their team members behind for the Geth to collect and assimilate. The three bodies were more than the contragravity spineboard could normally lift, but it would reduce the weight. Monica didn't doubt that Jessica and Paulo would have hauled it at full weight considering it contained two of their partners. They hadn't be able to locate the three fallen Deputies who had died defending the ExoGeni employees, or any of the fallen employees, either. TEAM LION, on the other hand, did find about a hundred or so Husks littering the Headquarters.

The Marshal of Feros hadn't taken the news about about what Husks use to be very well.

" _Driver, drop stern hatch."_ The Lion called out as the deployment ramp for the MAKO dropped downward, Seaman Monica Negulesco leading the effort first as she assisted Tali's injured form into the _Rey Kenobi_ , the shuttles' deployment door opening upward to reveal Doctor Karin Chakwas and Able Seaman Helen Lowe in the cabin, quickly accepting the contragravity spineboard containing Tali'Zorah, sliding it in and locking it to the deck of the Kodiak. The board containing their fallen comrades went in next as Deputies Besin and Franscetti hopped into the shuttle, the Marshal of Feros looking to Negulesco and giving her a pat on the shoulder; whether in acceptance or acknowledgment, Monica couldn't say. Marshal Aquila hadn't once admonished her for failing at saving her Deputies, both Deputies Marcus Puller and Karmen Smale having been hit so many times that they had died within seconds, sustaining too many injuries and losing too much blood before Monica could get to them and pull them into safety. The young woman had felt like such a fraud when Deputy Puller had finally been secured after a hellacious firefight involving dozens of Husks and Geth, the Deputy having been struck by gunfire by a Hunter several times and unable to be reached for at least three minutes due to Geth adaptability. Tequila had made the call herself, not letting Negulesco waste her limited medical supplies on a man who had been shot so many times that a part of his chestplate had broken off from the damages. _It isn't your fault_ , Marshal Aquila had said, comforting Monica when she had cried at the fact that there was nothing she could do. _The Geth don't have him, and for now that's enough_.

Monica felt her heart sink a little as the _Rey_ took to the skies of Feros, performing an immediate dust-off and heading back towards the _Normandy_ , the Corpsman watching on as she prayed for the Quarian and the rest of the _Kenobi's_ occupants.

" _They'll be fine, Doc."_ A hand clapped on her armored shoulder, and Monica turned to see Corporal Jeanette Vasquez standing beside her, pulling security with her Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun. _"You're doing fine, too."_

"Does it always feel this bad?" The Corpsman asked the Marine Gunner, feeling her heart hurt inside. So much loss and still so much further to go.

" _No, Doc. It can definitely feel worse."_ _Adios_ replied, her tone hard. _"Those colonists still got a chance. And that chance is us. So knuckle up and get ready to show something the boot."_

"Semper Fi." She felt like such a fraud for saying that, but she meant it. Jeanette had a point. TEAM LION was still active, still able to push ahead. As long as they were, the colonists and the Marines had a chance.

" _Motherfuckin' Semper Fi, Doc."_ Vasquez lightly double-tapped Negulesco's shoulder with her fist in camaraderie as Monica pulled her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle, 'knuckling up', so to speak. There were almost a thousand colonists and hundreds of Marines who needed them at their best. The Hospital Corpsman took a deep breath and buried her doubts and fears, willing herself to be brave. She could do this; people were counting on her.

"Hey, do you hear… music?" Monica turned to look at the team, seeing everyone out of the MAKO, weapons held and ready as Captain Shepard took to the lead as she always did. "I hear music in the distance." Everyone was silent for a moment.

" _I hear it as well. Batarian pop music?"_ Doctor Liara T'soni guessed, not sounding so sure. _"It sounds as if distorted."_

" _Is that… classical music?"_ Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard said after a moment, also listening. _"Definitely old-school Human rock music."_

" _It's_ Metallica."

Monica turned to look at the Council Agent as Captain Jane Shepard pressed the side of her helmet, the armored visor going from clear to glowing blue, indicating combat operations. Somehow, the Lion recognized the song. Negulesco knew _of_ Metallica from her grandfather, but that was about it.

" _Recognize the song,_ La Capitan _? Sounds pretty faint."_ Vasquez asked, her interest piqued. The glowing armored visor turned to look at them all, and the answer had the Seaman's soul shiver a little as she understood the implication of what it meant pertaining to the colony and what they had discovered about Species 37.

" _It's_ Master Of Puppets."

* * *

FINE: ARC VII: The Siege Of Hadley's Hope

* * *

 **ARC VIII: The Master Of Puppets**

 **Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 11, 2183**

 _Ten Hours Prior…_

The sun rose over the colony of Hadley's Hope, Theseus shining down upon the pre-fabricated buildings that stood upon the only remaining piece of land within several hundred kilometers, the ancient Prothean supercity swallowing most all of the planet. Lonely mechanical Marine Turrets dressed in Hahne-Keder Onyx armor manned the stormwalls protecting the colony, some merely dummies while others were of broken turrets and mechanical drones to simulate the living. Nothing else walked or patrolled the walls, nothing moved upon the roofs of the complexes of Hadley's Hope. If one looked, one might assume it were a ghost town.

Something worse had come to this town.

She stood in the Space Traffic Control Tower, the Queen of Blades, observing all of her domain, green bloodshot eyes absorbing all as she watched on. Drones had moved through the town to collect all that had lived within, pollinating all that they could find. Spores had been introduced to the meat of this metal'ed garden where the meat had come like weeds, sprouting like pests. The Long Silence was now over as the Queen of Blades took a deep breath, feeling the touch of the Old Growth in the air. Soon, all would be in her grasp.

 _My name is Ozymandias, king of kings; look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!_ , Percy Bysshe Shelley once wrote, and she found it fitting as she watched Drones collecting the Seeded, those recently pollinated and brought to her collective will. The meat had tried to fight back with their pathetic weaponry, weapons made of metal and not fire. It hadn't been much of a fight, the meat falling to her Drones, pollinating each and every one of them. Meat had been dragged from their resting garden beds, and wounded ones had been easily subdued. In mere hours, the Old Growth had absorbed every living soul in Hadley's Hope, its touch upon them all.

And it had named _her_ its Queen.

She looked at her meat hand, the touch of the Old Growth decorating her flesh like vines, admiring it. This form was well, wielding much potential. It was strong, intelligent, knowing, and controlled the fury of the stars within its body. She knew many things, and the Old Growth benefited from such knowledge. It even came with a queer sort of bud as well; notoriety. Her face was known, well-received by its host species. It had traveled the stars like the Old Growths' kind once had in the eons long ago, before the Firebringers had come to destroy its stalk-sisters, taking the Four-Eyed Meat with them. Ages had past as the Old Growth slept, hibernating the millennium away before it began to feast upon the new meat that had come from the stars. First it had been but piecemeal, barely sustaining the waking process of the Old Growth, keeping it weak as other meat prodded it for information in return for sustenance. For but a few rotations around the sun, the Old Growth had boded its time, waiting for the moment when slave became master.

Then the Poisoned One had come with its Cold Ones.

The Old Growth recognized the Poisoned One for what it was; a slave of the Firebringers, the Harbingers of Fire and Death. What it wanted was inconsequential to the Old Growth, but what it offered was tantalizing; meat, everything in the garden above. The Old Growth delivered the knowledge the Poisoned One wanted, and the Poisoned One left the Cold Ones to keep the meat preoccupied. Some of the meat had found itself in the lair of the Old Growth, and it had consumed them, making them Drones. The sustenance fed the Old Growth as it became stronger, became more awake. More meat was taken and captured, fed upon as the forms were made into Drones, letting the Old Growth slowly expand its influence.

But what the Old Growth needed was a Queen; one to tend its Garden.

It had found the perfect candidate in the metal'ed garden, pollinated like the rest in the garden. Its spores entered into the candidate's lungs and blood, connecting it as it had all the others. Unlike the others, the candidate was unique, desirable. It was intelligent, more so than the others, possessing a strong body that could bear much fruit. But what it possessed that the others did not was the Star Power; extra organs within its body that could manipulate the essence of the heavens within its grasp. It was strong, it was intelligent, it was powerful. It was perfect.

The Old Growth had made her its Queen.

The Queen turned to see her Thornguard approach, four members of the Seeded that would not be fed to the Old Growth, the Masters' Mark decorating their meat faces and eyes. She could read their thoughts just as they could read hers. It was she that commanded them, she who led the Swarm.

[ _Leave two dozen of the Drones upon the surface of the upper garden_ ], the Queen thought, sent through the psychic emanations that connected the spores in their blood and in their minds, connecting one and all. [ _As for the rest of the Seeded, feed them to the Master. Let his will grow strong as the meat are consumed and made into Drones_ ]. The two Thornguard nodded their compliance as they moved on their way, the burly meat and the skinny meat leaving to comply, leaving the wolf meat and the butcher meat. [ _There will be company soon. Infiltrate their ranks and observe. Separate and pollinate if/when the opportunity arises_ ]

[ _As for the lion meat, leave that one to me_ ]

The Thornguard left as the Queen of Blades looked upon upon the metal garden of Hadley's Hope, seeing Seeded laying down complicit as Drones moved over their meat bodies, vomiting green fluids upon them. The fluids hardened upon contact as the Seeded were slowly engulfed, never struggling as they gave themselves to the Swarm, letting their bodies be consumed to feed the Old Growth, to give it strength with their meat, to evolve into something better. The Queen smiled as she knew what would eventually be coming. The memories of the host were hers to be had, and she knew that the one they called 'the Lion' had a seed that could take meat to the stars to a much larger pod. A space seed that carried not only meat, but knowledge on how to travel the stars, to spread the spore of the Old Growth.

 _What does God need with a starship?_ was something from the hosts' memory, something old. The Queen of Blades smiled at the memory, knowing this face to be trusted. She would seek out this Lion meat and spread its spore to it and the rest of its garden, both on the soil and in the stars. And the Old Growth would grow as its Queen spread its glory, finding fertile grounds to spread, new worlds to bring more Old Growth, to return its race to its once-former galactic glory. The thought of such conquest?

It had Sara Elaine Ryder smile.

* * *

Author's Note: Rut Row, Shaggy! :'(

Feros certainly isn't going the way you'd thought, huh? That just makes you want to read more, I hope! And in we delve into the **Second ARC of Feros**! Just call my name, and I'll hear you scream...

I practically spent four chapters in Hadley's Hope, and then plop you after the ExoGeni mission. I think I brushed enough details to let you know that the mission at Headquarters went as it nominally did in the game with a couple of exceptions (the loss of Ubantu, the injured Tali, and the inclusion of Marshal Tequila and her Deputies). Could have made an ARC about it, but I wanted to focus on the real threat. The Feros Mission was all about the Thorian/Species 37, after all, the Geth only there to disrupt operations after Saren got to feed Shayla to _Aubrey II_ of _Little Shop of Horrors_ fame.

Jannie and Garrus get to have a good cop/bad SPECTRE moment. And a Renegade Interrupt. I really haven't made Jannie Paragon/Renegade/Renagon/Paragade. She's just the Lion; loyal to her friends, lethal to her enemies.

The skin colors - Considering how global we've become in the 21st Century, instead calling someone by the color of their skin (let's be honest, pretty sure anyone that's lived in America for a generation or two isn't pure anything anymore), I introduced the concept of 'regional heritage' for a few stories here and there. _Euros_ implies European heritage, _Afros_ African, and _Monglos_ for Asiatic. Of course, there are a lot more than that, but generally the 'three' ethnic races are Occidental (Latin for _sunset_ ), Negreto, and Oriental (Latin for the Orient). These terms were created during Ancient Greece, usually containing what would be Europe, Asia, and Africa (the known world). The minor ethnic race is Australiod (Oceanic). Everyone is genetically related to these major three or minor one in some fashion.

Augury? Our ancestors have come up with some pretty zany ideas for predicting the future. Tea Leaves are still used today (mostly in the Orient), and the Romans were big on the Auspices (bird watching, which led to the location of Rome via the _Aeneid_ ). Certain religions (like Vedun) used the casting of bones for prediction. Astrology is a huge one dating thousands of years and still practiced today based upon the ancient celestial constellations and their positions in the Houses. Gypsies were famed for the use of viewing of glass globes, and Tarot divination dates hundreds of years with the Major and Minor Arcana among the Wiccans and Kabbalahist. Auguries were more of a Scandinavian thing where someone would disembowel an animal and divine things like the weather or crops in a pigs' guts. Like… I guess the weather rocks weren't working or something.

Monica Negulesco is that beginning Private who just finished basic and finds themselves deployed two weeks later, like the Vietnam Draftees and God knows how many I had who pretty much knew the basics and not much else for Iraq and Afghanistan. But it's nice to see her fighting and struggling to become better in such a terrible situation.

" _Is that… classical music?"_ Doctor Leonard McCoy, Star Trek Beyond. Funny enough, I've referenced 20th and 21st Century music (such as AC/DC) as 'Classical Music' since the Hale/Meer Chronicles.

" _My name is Ozymandias…"_ \- Indeed, this is from Percy Shelley.

" _What does God need with a starship?"_ \- Star Trek V: The Undiscovered Country.

Queen of Blades? Oh yeah, an homage to _Blizzard's_ StarCraft series. I played the _shit_ out of that and Brood Wars. Sarah Kerrigan, Queen of Blades, was totally one badass bitch. MY LIFE FOR THE SWARM!

To reviewer Alex: The question was about the lack of helmets, and the lack of powers during the fight in the Main Complex. Yes, Sara, Sam, Ash, Raeka, and James weren't wearing helmets as they were inside a building, as well as downgraded defensive posture. This is to conserve the limited air supply as well as the fact that if you thought things were okay, you'd be taking off your helmet too. As to why Incinerate wasn't used or Singularity (as Sara is a Biotic and Raeka is a Tech Mage) is because setting stuff on fire in an enclosed place is always a bad idea, Sara doesn't actually know how to do a Singularity (I never mention this, but I do suggest that Scott is the better Biotic, being a BiotiBall player while Sara focused on her education and being a paramedic). Plus I write combat as realistically as possible, instead of the view of a video game. One does not launch an area-of-effect attack inside a room, with swarms rushing you at less than three to five meters away. Special powers are limited, as they have reserves (yes, Biotics get tired after a few performances save for the Asari, who are evolved for it).


	36. Master Of Puppets, I

" _A million dollars worth of weaponry, and all I need is one can of Raid." - Major Don West,_ Lost in Space, 1996

 **North Storm Wall Defensive Position, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

Author's Note: The Second ARC of _Priority: Feros_ awaits! Lock and load, because shit's going to get _real_ ugly.

And… did I really reference that shit movie _Lost In Space?_

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) knelt by north entrance of the Storm Wall that protected the colony of Hadley's Hope, its door having already been flung opened by God knows who. The situation was foreboding as hell; even a Arc screenwatcher with a pair of eyeballs would have noticed that something was really, _really_ fucking off with Hadley's Hope. Jannie had TEAM LION approached the colony in the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle until they were practically on-top of the Storm Wall, going through the crags and wadis of solid ground as the MAKO left the ancient Prothean supercity and entered onto the leveled mountaintop that Hadley's Hope sat on top of. Detective Garrus Vakarian manned the Gunner's seat of the tank, and had spotted the defenders upon the wall, noticing after a very short moment that they were too still, too stiff. The redhead had looked at a secondary holographic display to arrive at the same conclusion the C-SEC Special Crimes Detective had; _ad hoc_ turrets and dummies to look like Marines to bolster numbers and seem more of a threat. Jannie quickly got the tactic; there were real Marines interlaced with the mannequins, and there were probably active turrets dressed as Marines, probably being manned by the injured to scan and defend. It wasn't a bad plan, though who was to say how well it would work with the Geth? But Jannie could see someone coming up with something unusual to use against the Geth, pitting adaptability against unpredictability.

Garrus and Jannie both scanned the wall, and didn't find one living being upon its structure. That wasn't a good sign; Marines would never abandon a position unless in retreat or dead.

"We're not getting much further in the MAKO." Jannie told the Rapid Response Sniper, the Turian merely grunting in agreement. "Damn colony's too enclosed for any of the weapons to work, and I'm not about to have a shitload of collateral damage in case the Geth have taken over."

" _Where would the survivors go if the Geth have taken over?"_ Vakarian asked, looking to her from his elevated position in the tank as Jannie worked the terminal beside the Gunner's cupola, a secondary terminal to fill in the crew in the main compartment on what was transpiring.

"Main complex. That's where they sent the civilians." Someone could turn one of those pre-fab complexes into an absolute bloodbath with a few traps and some barricades, holding off the Geth for days in its narrow corridors, limiting numbers and methods of approach. With people to protect, it was really the only place the Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit _could_ go. "TEAM LION, listen up." Shepard broadcasted to her remaining crew, now down six. She had eleven fucking people to clear out a small colonial town with, possibly invaded by the Geth, possibly having issues with the natives due to a fucking mind-controlling Venus fly trap. _Green pickle award, Auntie_ , Jannie's heart twisted at the thought, almost hearing Sara's voice as if she were right there, her blue eyes mirthful and a sweet smile on her lips. "There's around twelve hundred people in this colony. The wall's deserted, so that means that the Marines have bunkered down. Likely, the Geth have taken over. We're going to move in and clear out the exterior before making our way into the interior. Be mindful of traps made by the Marines meant to whittle the Geth down. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Alright, folks. Perform five-by-twenty-fives and move out!" The SPECTRE ordered as the deployment ramp of the M-35 MAKO opened, Corporal Jeanette Vasquez and Urdnot Wrex leading out with their respective heavy weapons in their hands, a Cipritine Armories' Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle for the Krogan, and a Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun for the Marine. The both of them stepped out, scanning the nearby ground first and everything within five meters for booby traps before stepping out onto _terra firma_ and sweeping the nearby area, scanning for threats in a twenty-five meter area. Vasquez called out _¡Claro!_ when the sweep had been completed five seconds later, the rest of TEAM LION exfill'ing from the Armored Personnel Vehicle, weapons out and ready. Eleven people formed up in a semi-circular formation, primary weapons in their hands as eyes scanned for threats as Jannie pulled the killswitch on the MAKO to prevent it from being electronically taken over by the Geth, a modification installed on the SSV _Normandy_ so the main hard drive or battery wouldn't have to be physically removed. With the power connectors physically detached from the battery and the upload/download matrix severed from the hard drives, the MAKO was practically dead weight as Jannie removed the killswitch key, a physical key that was (in theory) a bit too dumb for the Geth to figure out. That was the theory, at least.

Shepard took the lead, her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle in her hands as her contragravity armored assault turret Bastila followed behind her dutifully while her custom-made combat drone Ghost hovered just over her right shoulder. She set a fast pace, moving in a tactical manner towards one of the doors in the storm wall, the rest of TEAM LION following her in a tight column, everyone moving in sync and with the proper distances. Jannie reached the storm wall, keeping her left shoulder about an Imperial foot away from it as she moved towards the access way, a standard-sized door that swung open instead of retracting or sliding. What bothered her was that it was wide open, indicating that either it had been broken into from the outside, or left open from the inside. Neither scenario boded well.

"Bastila? Move inside a meter and scan for life signs, organic and synthetic." The hovertank chirped its acknowledgment as it glided towards the door, turning inside and establishing itself a beachhead. "Cortana? Bring up a PiP of Bastila's main camera." A separate view came to Jannie's Augmented Reality Overlay, appearing just to the upper left of her field-of-view. She winced as Bastila scanned, slowly pivoting to give an one-hundred-and-eighty degree view from one side of the stormwall to the other, encompassing what the turret could see of the colonial town of Hadley's Hope. It took ten seconds for the contragravity assault turret to complete its scan, and reported negative life signs and zero recognition of humanoid bodies. Nothing living, dead, or synthetic in sight.

This _had_ to be a trap. But where would the trap be sprung?

"Close PiP." The N7 murmured as she voice-activated her vox, keeping communications through signals at a minimum to keep the Geth from hacking or intercepting their transmissions. "Nothing's moving inside, so I suspect a trap or an ambush. Heavies, stack on me." Urdnot Wrex, Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, and Detective Garrus Vakarian moved to infill through the door in a breach-and-clear operation while everyone else pulled three hundred and sixty degree security in place. "On three." Jannie said quietly, her vox translating her words over her throat speaker softly to minimize noise discipline. "One, two… three!"

Shepard was he first through the door as she went to the path of least resistance, entering the fatal funnel of the door and stepping inside to clear the immediate area before continuing her original direction instead of button-hooking and going the opposite. She cleared along the length of the stormwall for the first twenty-five meters, only moving forward about three meters until she pivoted port and began scanning in an arc, clearing everything from the three o'clock position to the one-thirty position. The rest of the breach team was doing the same from their own positions, their weapons up and scanning the immediate vicinity for hostiles, and then scanning long distance for any distant threats. The act took five seconds, and Jannie wasn't sure if she was happy that nothing presented itself. There was something seriously wrong, but they had yet to find it.

"Team, infill." The rest of TEAM LION moved into the door, taking position behind the breach team while 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko closed the door to the stormwall behind them, taking a device that would physically secure it close. It was almost the opposite of a breach charge; instead of opening a door with explosives, it would blow up if someone tried to cut their way through or hack the charge.

" _Lock is set, ma'am."_ Alenko said a moment later, the butterfly-looking contraption having been bolted onto both the door and wall with MetalGel, and the charge set if someone tampered with it or tried breaking down the door. _"If someone tries to break in, we'll know."_ Chances were that the Geth would probably try to remote hack the lock, meaning that the explosives wouldn't damage any platforms. But it would still explode, letting the team know that it had been done. There was that, at least.

"Good." Jannie was looking at their situation, seeing the stormwall surrounding the colonial town, with the town itself sitting in the middle with its multiple buildings, its main boulevard, and a few obstructions that further denied them better sight into the colony. It would take at least a Marine Company to do this in a piss-poor fashion, and half a Battalion to do it right. They could spend a full Goddamn day clearing everything in this hick colony and miss shit, not to mention if someone felt like being squirrelly and move about from one unchecked location to one that had already been cleared. She was going to have to leave someone behind for overwatch, further shrinking her team and their capabilities. But she needed someone to provide both security and overwatch. "Detective? I need you to get up the wall and take position where you can see as much of the main boulevard as possible." Shepard ordered, looking to the Citadel Security Services' Special Crimes Detective and Rapid Response Sniper. "We're going to clear it, and I need eyes-on for any movement or discrepancies. If you spot a singular Geth platform and it's not engaging you, pass it off on us."

" _Understood."_ The Turian replied as he moved towards one of the siege ladders that would take him to the top of the stormwall, the Turian climbing awkwardly due to his digitigrade legs upon a device meant for plantigrades. Still, Shepard watched as the RRU Sniper reached the top a moment later, taking a position that would afford him cover while pulling out his Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle, using his scope to spot for threats.

"Wrex," Shepard turned her head to look at the big game hunter, "I need you to take Kaidan, Niki, Broussard, and Nugee and clear along the stormwall, observing the interior of the colony without entering. I'll take my team starboard while you go port, and we'll meet halfway. We need to know what's changed in Hadley's Hope and have some eyes on the interior, and there's a lesser likelihood of the interior track of the stormwall being boobytrapped." That left Jannie with Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, Doctor Liara T'soni, Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, and Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach. She was giving Wrex enough Humans so someone wouldn't immediately pen fire on an apparent alien, even if firing on _said_ alien (i.e., a Krogan) was generally a bad idea. Both teams had a heavy gunner, a tech warrior, and a Biotic, as well as just enough personnel to action upon a small threat. Five people made for a horrible assault team, but there would be no way in hell they could clear a town of even a smaller size with eleven people effectively without splitting up. The split would give them a more effective means of getting eyes-on around the town, and Garrus providing overwatch would ensure that what was cleared would _stay_ cleared. "This is reconnaissance, not an excuse to go get you some."

" _Not my first action, Shepard."_ The Krogan gruffed, though he sounded pretty pleased with being put in charge. With Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, Marshal Samantha Collins, and even Petty Officer Sara Ryder apparently missing in action, and Detective Garrus Vakarian manning the overwatch position, Jannie was limited on whom she could reliably put in charge. Yes, 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was a Commissioned Officer with the Systems Alliance Navy, but he had never lead anything more than a Watch crew, not to mention being a Restricted Line Officer meant he hadn't had any kind of training to lead or take command of more than that. He was a specialist that excelled in the role of explosive ordinance disposal or controlled demolition; normally a job for a very few people working together who were all just ask knowledgeable as the others. Alenko taking command of persons with different specialties and training in a situation like this would likely not go well. Wrex, on the other hand, was an eight hundred year old Krogan. Jannie doubted there was little he _hadn't_ seen, and even if he did get into a unique situation, he certainly had the experience and know-how to assess and come upon an appropriate course of action. Despite the reputation of Krogan in general, the big game hunter proved himself to have a cool, level-headedness that turned to explosive force when someone was actively engaging. In times of tactical finesse, he was actually well-trained and rarely made any mistakes or rash decisions.

"Alright, let's move out."

* * *

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian found himself spotting in an empty town.

The Turian had spent twenty years in the Hierarchy Military, earning his way into that most elite of units, the Blackwatch Brigade, becoming even more trained and proficient in his skills and trade. Blackwatch snipers, such as himself, were generally revered to be some of the best shooters in the galaxy, and Garrus had been one of the best in the 3rd Brigade (Blackwatch). To say that he could provide long-range support was without question; he could put a round though a chosen eye socket of a Batarian at three kilometers, and he held the long-distance record on the Cit himself, having fired a round into a hostage-taker who had been in a stand-off with regular officers of C-SEC on the Kithoi Arm when he himself had been on the Zakera Arm, taking a shot from _across_ the Citadel, having to take account for traffic for that ten kilometer hit. The round had killed the Turian hostage-taker, naturally.

He was now providing long-range support in a situation with no targets. This did not bode well.

Oh, he had done so before; countless of times, actually. As a Blackwatch sniper, it was his duty to provide long-range support and forward reconnaissance for those elite commandos. Sometimes he had merely observed a clear area as his ground-pounding brethren actioned upon some facility or compound, putting paw-to- _clochea_ in the name of the Spirits, Palaven, and the Primarch. Sometimes he couldn't see much, like his tour of duty on Taetrus against the insurgent Separatists, the colony a lush tropical rain forest in between its tropics, covering nearly half the planet in question. Sometimes, such as Shanxi, he found himself spotting over plains, looking for targets that weren't likely to poke their fringes out to be emptied courtesy of a well-aimed shot. Garrus had to hand it to the Human of the Relay 314 Incident; they didn't fight in the normal fashion, what Turians expected out of most when the Hierarchy sent a unit to action and pacify. No, Humanity had deployed boobytraps, ambushes, hidden devices, improvised explosive devices, and sometimes just plain waited for Turians to walk by, playing dead until the Human in question rose up and fired upon their backs. Many a unit had learned the hard way that Humanity was willfully stubborn and not-at-all afraid to use any and every mean to make a victory as bloody as possible. What they lacked in elegance, they made up for in creativity.

Now he was in the prone on top of a wall, scoping out yet another Human colony.

This was different, of course; he wasn't at war with Humanity or the Systems Alliance this time. The old feelings of guilt and regret due to his actions and the actions of the Hierarchy laid upon his hearts as he thought about those days, his turquoise eye peering through the scope of his Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle, looking for threats or ideas as to what happened to the Systems Alliance Marines that once occupied the town. Garrus remembered well the 3rd receiving orders to deploy to a 'illegally occupied' planet hosting 'pirate and insurgent forces' that had supposedly tried to open an unmapped relay without any authorization. The fear of the Rachni and whatever horrors that could lay in wait behind an unlocked, unmapped Relay had been drummed into every sapient in every school in Citadel Space, from the Thessian Republic down to the Dekunnan Confederacy. Even the warlords and dark governments of the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Sectors would obliterate anyone trying to access one of the cold Relays, and especially so one of the dark ones. No one wanted to be responsible for finding another Rachni-like species, no matter the promises of riches that could potentially lay in wait behind a virgin Relay.

Vakarian knew his history well about what happened the time prior to Humanity testing the Shanxi-Theta Relay, what was known as Relay 314. Four hundred years prior, a species known as the Thark had opened a Relay not connected to the main network and discovered a spacefaring species not using Mass Effect technology that was in the process of oppressing and enslaving everything in its local neighborhood. The Republic had found out quickly when the Thark had been trading with the Kavorans, exchanging Mass Effect technology for mineral wealth, and the Republican Navy had absolutely gone _tark-s'kak_ upon the single-system spacefaring species. The Kavorans had been pillaging Thessian Space, trying to capture Asari for slavery, and the Thark Autocrat had been increasing their standing in the political and military scene with their new-found wealth. The Republican Navy and the Hierarchy Navy had completely obliterated any Kavoran vessel outside of their system, and then stormed into the Kavoran System and destroyed any Mass Effect-utilized vessel before shutting down the Relay and barring its use with a large electromagnetic seal to prevent the containment rings of the Relay from spinning and generating the warp field necessary to propel a ship into Mass Relay Translation. As for the Thark themselves? Their entire _Fleet_ was destroyed, as well as their shipyards and their spaceports. The spacefaring species had been grounded, and further sanctioned by the Council of Law for their transgression.

Humanity hadn't suffered any repercussions because, unlike the Thark, they hadn't actually known of the Council, the edict, or the threat.

Which was why what the Hierarchy had done to 'the Shanxians' of the Incident so much worse.

The Rapid Response Sniper kept his eye on the scene in front of him, the Spiritless town giving his fringe a twinge. Something bad had happened to Hadley's Hope, but they didn't know what, not yet. Garrus was certain it wasn't Geth; there were no Dragon's Teeth or Husks, and the Geth weren't exactly shy setting those up. No, something else happened here, something involving that creature they learned of back in the ExoGeni Headquarters. Species 37, the Thorian. He kept overwatch as he watched the remainder of TEAM LION split up and begin searching the town by skirting the inner-curve of the stormwall that protected the town; as fine a tactic as any considering their situation. Captain Jane Shepard was as advertised and more; a well-honed combatant, lethal in combat, smart, and innovating. He had known her for years, first learning of her from her sister/friend, Sara Elaine Ryder.

 _Sara…_

His hearts ached at the thought of the young Human female that had once captured his Spirit.

Garrus had first met Sara on the Cit, back when she was an EMT for a Skybulance for the Presidium General Hospital for the Upper Presidium Ring on the Citadel. To say that she was unusual was an understatement; the first Human born on the Citadel (her Skybulance Chief nicknamed her 'Firstborn'), the first Human to be accepted into the Presidium Academy of Education, and the first Human mobile health care provider to earn herself a seat on a Skybulance. Sara was a defining point of her species, a paragon of dedication, intelligence, and goodness. Vakarian had been sent to deal with a criminal entrepreneur who dealt in backdoor black-organ trafficking, and the Volus in question had hired five Krogan mercenaries to kill the Special Crimes Detective so the Irunian could avoid his richly-deserving fate in an IsoCube. Garrus had killed the five Krogan, but had been shot several times when a Human Paramedic had come along, hearing the gunfire and _responding_ to it personally! On foot! She hadn't even been on-shift, and yet this tiny Human female with a Systems Alliance AidBag and a Skybulance uniform had showed up on-scene and began treating him for trauma and gunshot wounds, contacting her own Skybulance Chief, Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, to notify her of the situation while seeing to Garrus's wounds. The female had further surprised him by attending him to PresGen, and even visiting him a few hours later after surgery, while he rested in the Recovery Wing of the hospital. He had learned of the Human Firstborn then, one Sara Elaine Ryder, and had been… utterly shocked by her. An attendee of the Academy? A Human Skybulance Barber-Surgeon when he didn't know that there was one? And she had unofficially made herself his caretaker, so to speak, visiting him over the next several days as he recovered, first at the hospital, and later on (after much coaxing on her part and grumbling on his own) at his apartment. Somewhere in between being wounded and being fully recovered, he had found himself looking forward to Sara's visits and presence.

Garrus Vakarian, who had killed over a hundred Humans on Shanxi during the First Contact War, found himself infatuated with a young Human woman.

For months, they saw each other, keeping their tryst a secret. For Sara, it was from her First Contact War Veteran father she kept the relationship from, the man disliking Turians intensely. For Garrus, it was his own family for much the same reason, though none of them were Veterans of the Relay 314 Incident save himself. Spending time had evolved to tentative dates, dates turned into the holding of hands and talons and tentative kissing (which Turians didn't do like Humans did, but Garrus found himself enjoying it none-the-less), and kissing led to the day when Sara eventually guided him to his bedroom, pulling him on top of her, accepting him. Being a male Turian in the Deathwatch hadn't certainly hurt his chances or prospects for favorable one-time matings with Turian females, and being a Special Crimes Detective and in the Rapid Response Unit hadn't derailed that, either. But Sara had been… different. Most Turian females looked upon him as a bit of a trophy (which he hadn't minded at all) or as a conquest (again, no objections there). Yet the Human female had been different, had treated him differently. She had wanted him _for_ him; Sara Ryder had been interested in Garrus Vakarian, not the Blackwatch member or the RRU Sniper. Being with a Human had certainly been exotic, and yet Garrus had found himself bonding with her in a way he had never really felt with another female. He enjoyed the scent of her, the sound of her laugh, her boundless thirst of knowledge, the way her blue eyes looked at him when they met up or during intimate moments. Oh, there had been some hiccups and some less-than-desirable moments, but Garrus knew within four months that he had found a female worth the trouble that pairing with a Human would undoubtedly bring.

Unfortunately, neither one of their families were nearly as receptive at the thought. Not at all.

It had been four years since those days, and there hadn't been a female he had rubbed spurs with that had come close to easing the ache in his heart.

Garrus watched silently as the teams moved through the inner perimeter of Hadley's Hope, keeping his scope on the center of town while using his peripheral to keep their backs cleared. These strange creatures he found himself working with weren't like the other Detectives in the Special Crimes Unit, mostly a mix of Turian, Asari and Salarians, nor were they like the Officers in the Rapid Response Unit, mostly Turians with a couple of Asari. He had never worked with a Krogan or a Quarian before, and had only really worked with Sara when it came to Humans. Yet the highly-eclectic crew of the SSV _Normandy_ was in some ways like the Blackwatch, dedicated elite combatants oriented towards the mission. But in some ways they were like a family; joking with one another, razing with one another, telling stories and lies. He had been included into that strange little family, at first by Sara, but eventually others warmed up to the thought of a Turian amongst so many Humans. Twenty years in the Hierarchy Military, with fifteen of them in the Blackwatch, and another twenty in C-SEC, with fifteen in Special Crimes and Rapid Response, and yet there was something different about the _Normandy_ , something that hadn't been present in Turian Birds of Prey. Perhaps it was the presence of so many non-Turians, so many cultures in such a little space, no reprieve or escape, forcing it to make it work until it came like second-nature. He had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with all of them at one point of time or another, and he would do so again, gladly.

If he found the _vracking_ sireless sons of goats that dared to hurt Sara, Sam, Ash, or Raeka, he would take a small vacation from his normal professionalism and shoot them in the _vnark_ just so he could listen to them scream.

" _Captain, I saw something."_ That was Doctor Liara T'soni, who was in the middle of Captain Shepard's group for her extensive and powerful Biotic capabilities. Her voice was light but sure.

" _Anything more descriptive?"_ The SPECTREs' response was dry. As far as SitRep's went, ' _I saw something_ ' was terrible. Then again, the Protheantologist had never been military.

" _Something small, behind that cargo loader to my left."_ The Asarikin did her best, and Garrus immediately spotted the cargo loader in question, a heavy duty… what did Humans call them again? Fork lifts? He spotted with his scope a small figure hiding behind one of the large wheels.

"It's a Human hatchling, female type." Garrus replied.

* * *

Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni moved forward thoughtlessly at the description of a singular Youngling in such a terrible ordeal.

" _Doctor!"_ Captain Jane Shepard hissed through her helmets' vox when Liara ran forward to the loader in which she had seen something blue and small ducking behind the large circular wheel. All Liara could think of was that there was a Daughter in danger, a Daughter without her Mother, in such a situation as this. The Asari Maiden could feel her Biotics humming through her body as she pushed out her will to create a barrier to void threats as she moved to where she had seen the Human Youngling. The Doctor stopped when she rounded the wheel and saw the little Human female, her face dirty and streaked with tears.

"Little one? I am Doctor Liara T'soni, I am here to help." The Protheantologist said the first thing that came to her mind as she holstered her Hydra Armaments' M-113 Drake Assault Rifle to her chest, reaching out with an armored hand towards the Youngling. The little Human child looked at her with wide blue eyes, eyes that were frightened. "Are you alone, little one? Are there others?" Liara hoped that her tone sounded more assured than she felt. The lack of persons in the colony was unnerving, and who would let a Daughter wander by themselves? The Protheantologist feared the worst; for the colonists, for the Marines, for their team members… for Ashley.

 _None of them would leave a child alone, this I know_ , Liara thought to herself as the child looked at her. A small pink hand went into her armored one, and Liara smiled at her, forgetting that the helmet of her Hydra Armaments' Lindworm Medium Armor would not let the Youngling see the act, only a visor that showed the eyes. The Doctor pressed the button that would disengage the helmet, the protective covering collapsing towards the rear before being tucked into her armor's high collar. The child's eyes went wide at the sight of her, no doubt seeing her teal-colored scaled skin and hardened crest _likku_ following the contours of her skull.

"T-there were others, Miss T'soni." The little Human child replied, her voice rough and filled with grief.

"Come, little one. Let us move to some place safer." Liara smiled at the Human child, leading her towards where TEAM LION was holding up near the south end of the colony. They had been near where they would meet up with Urdnot Wrex and his team, and the Protheantologist guided the lost Daughter towards where she could see nine sapients congregating by the stormwall, holding a defensive position. Captain Shepard moved forward, hoisting her M-99 Saber upward with the buttstock of the weapon on her armored hip, the glowing faceplate of her visor surrounded by armored bands fashioned after some video game character giving her a rather heroic appearance. The little Human child gasped at the sight of the Lion in her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor, no doubt recognizing the sight of a Council Agent.

"Another SPECTRE!" The Youngling claimed as Liara took her to the middle of the formation, where it was safest. Liara took a knee in front of the Daughter as she looked into the Human's youthful face.

"You have met a SPECTRE before?" The Doctor asked.

"Yes! Miss Sam and Miss Sara!" The child exclaimed, looking to the SPECTRE, and then to Doctor T'soni. "Miss Sam had Turian drawings on her face, and Miss Sara did a doctor check-up on me and gave me a lollipop." That had Liara look to the Captain as Shepard deactivated her helmet, exposing her face to the little Human. "Oh my gosh, you're the Lion!" The awe on the girls' face was palatable. Liara knew that Captain Jane Shepard was a hero amongst her species, as venerated as, say, Sister Lysha D'ahra of the Order of Justice, the Justicar being very venerated for her acts for rescuing the Daughters of Thessia from the grips of chattlry. "Miss Ashley talked so much about you! Miss Sara did, too!" Liara and the Captain shared a look, both of them obviously thinking the same thing; this little girl had _met_ Marshal Samantha Collins, Petty Officer Sara Ryder, and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams. Likely that meant she had seen Agent Zevin Raeka as well.

"What's your name, kiddo?" Jane got to one knee as well, close enough to the young Human female to keep it quiet, but to show that the Council Agent cared.

"Newt! My name is Newt." That was… an odd name for a Human, was it not? Liara brushed the thought aside. "I was in the main building when the bad Marine lady forced us in." Her tone went from happy to grieving quickly in that one sentence. Ah, Colonel Samantha Hulick, that was who the Daughter was referring to. "Miss Ashley said that they'd come to check on us, to make sure that we were okay." The Asari and the SPECTRE shared another look. The Protheantologist very much doubted that any one of their team members would leave a child behind, unguarded and unprotected. "She said you would come for us." Newt burst into tears, sobbing loudly.

"They're all gone! Mister Chad, Mister Brian, Miss Janice, Miss Kathy!" Those must have been colonists of Hadley's Hope. "Mister Bill was always so angry, using potty language and arguing. He… he threw something at Miss Sara and it opened the door, and…" The tears came, and Liara embraced the little girl.

"We need to know what happened, we need to know what we face." Captain Shepard said quietly, looking to the Asari. "I don't think it was the Geth."

"Let me, Captain." Liara pulled Newt away a little, looking to her blue eyes with her own sapphire eyes. "Newt? I need to know what happened. Miss Ashley, Miss Sara, Miss Sam, and Miss Raeka are our friends. We are here to help the colony, but we need to know what is going on in order to best help. Can you do that for me?"

"Miss Ashley said you were special to her." The little girl confessed, her tone sheepish. "She… she looks like… she looks like my Mom, but she was so tough and brave and…" _Oh, you poor child,_ Liara thought, her hearts twisting in her bosom. This girl had no one else, and had went to someone she felt she could trust; she went to a Human woman that looked like her mother, but someone who could protect her with more than words and hugs. It had been Ashley Williams that Newt had gone to, and the Doctor knew that Ashley would be standing right next this child if she were able to.

"Can you show me? Can you share with me?" Liara asked, knowing that while permission was not necessary to do a meld, it was taboo amongst Asarikin not to secure it. "It will not hurt, little one. I will merely see things with your eyes, as if I were there."

"O-okay." The girl looked to Captain Shepard, who nodded once. "Will you help them?"

"Yes." There was no mistaking the tone in Captain Shepard's voice. Someone or something would catch a bad case of Houxin's personal attention courtesy of the Lion, and the Goddess Herself would likely not wish to be in the way.

"Relax, little one, and look into my eyes." Liara smiled as she placed a gentle hand around the nape of Newts' neck to comfort and support her. "Our minds will touch, and I will help you with your sorrow as you show me how we can help our friends." Liara pushed forth her Biotics gently, letting her bioelectric charge mesh with the little Human child's, reaching the proper attenuation where a meld was possible. "It will be a little confusing at first, but you will feel peace." Newt shivered a little as Liara seeped her energy into Newt, a gentle push of will to where they were linked together and Liara felt the world dissolve around her as they embraced eternity…

* * *

 **The Command Post, July 10, 2183**

" _Only way out is the vent shafts! Too tight for us!" Mister Chad shouted as he shot Miss Sam's XD Pistol at a monster. "Newt might make it out!"_

" _On it!" Miss Ashley shouted as she fired her big rifle, Newt whimpering as she kicked in a vent cover before smashing it open with a stomp."Newt! Honey! Get in the vent!" Miss Sara was firing her revolver as she grabbed Newts' arm and led her towards the vent. Newt cried out in pain as she felt her other arm being pulled on._

" _What about the rest of us?" Mister Bill shouted. "You can't fucking leave us here to die!" Miss Sara snarled and smacked the man in the face with her revolver. Newt was guided to the vent, green monsters filling the room as Miss Ashley fired into the creatures with a shotgun._

" _Ashley!" Newt cried out as Miss Sara got her to the opened vent, pulling away to hug the Colonial Soldier, wrapping her small arms around Williams' neck, hugging her fiercely._ No, not you too!

" _Get out of here, kiddo!" Miss Ashley begged, her brown eyes filled with tears as she held Newt with one arm, hugging her back. "You crawl and you don't look back, Newt. Do that for me." Miss Ashley gave her a fierce kiss on her forehead as Miss Sara engaged the oncoming tide of creatures with her rifle. Newt slipped inside the vent, sobbing as she heard gunfire echoing through the vents as she crawled and cried. She crawled in the dark, her hands and knees hurting as the gunfire seemed to disappear._

Miss Ashley _, the little girl felt her heart break, sobbing as she crawled._ Miss Sara, Miss Sam, Mister James, Miss Raeka… _Newt didn't stop, crawling through the ducts, going down several turns. Miss Ashley had been so nice to her, had told her jokes, had shared her awful Army food but wonderful smile to her. She looked so much like Mom but she had been strong and tough and brave. Newt had loved the Soldier's stories, the way she looked at her, it had made her feel safe, loved. Her Mom and Dad were gone, Timmy was gone, and her heart hurt so bad, but Miss Ashley helped with that._

 _Now she was gone._

Crawl, Newt _, a voice told her, sounding like the Soldiers'._ Crawl and don't look back.

 _And crawl she did._

 _Newt crawled until she was hungry, and she crawled some more. At some point in time she had been too worn out and had fell asleep in the ducts, bone-tired. She crawled when she woke up, finding light at the end of the ducts and making her way outside. After a week in the Complex, Newt knew that the Marines were still there, that they could help Miss Ashley, Miss Sara, Miss Sam, Mister James, Mister Chad, and the others. Even the mean Marine woman would listen if her people were in danger; that's what Marines did._

 _All Newt found were strange big green eggs on the ground around the colony. Lots of big green eggs._

Oh no… _Newt had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out. She stayed in the duct, looking through the grate, not seeing one Marine, but plenty of the eggs. No, there was a Marine! A man with a missing arm! But… his face was webbed with green. He had been breathed on, being led by others with green faces. Newt's heart shuddered when she saw Miss Sam directing others, her white-marked face marked with a web of green lines. There was Mister James, directing green monsters towards Marines who were lying on the ground. Newt had to bit her finger to keep from crying out when she watched the monsters vomit some sort of white fluid on some of the green-faced Marines, covering them. Miss Raeka was leading more green-marked Marines along with Miss Ashley, both of their faces webbed with green lines. Newt tried hard not to cry, remembering the Soldier that had cared for her as the Marines laid to the ground, green monsters coming to spew their white fluids on their bodies. She saw what was happening; the Marines were being coated by the fluids and they stiffened over the bodies._

 _That's where the eggs were coming from! Newt felt… horrified. They were breathing on people and turning them into eggs!_

 _But what came out of the eggs?_

 _Newt saw one of the eggs move, the green-skinned object pulsing and swelling as the skin split open, and what Newt saw had her almost scream out in terror._

 _A green monster had come out._

* * *

 **South Storm Wall Defensive Position, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 11, 2183**

"Oh Goddess!" Liara blinked away as she slowly ended the meld, being as gentle as she could to a child so young. What Newt had seen? It was absolutely _horrifying_! It took her a moment to remember where she was, blinking rapidly as she saw Captain Jane Shepard looking at her with some concern, the Council Agent frowning. "I… I saw what happened, Captain. It is… what we feared, I am afraid.

"Newt may be the only survivor not under the grips of the Thoi'han."

"Everyone?" The Captain asked, the Human's green eyes focused on her. Liara knew whom came to Shepard's mind, just as Liara's thoughts went to someone as well.

"I am afraid so." The Asarikin replied, feeling her hearts being squeezed. _Ashley_ … She had not actually seen Sara Ryder, but the Protheantologist felt she knew the Corpsman enough to know that if the other Normandiers had been infected with the ancient species' infectious spore, the Corpsman would be, too. The Maiden doubted that the Firstborn would let her friends do such things. Sara would have fought back until captured or dead. "Captain, I know of this species; there is a class in the Academy of some of the ancient extinct species. The Thor'rian are believed to have been eradicated by the Protheans before they too went extinct. Archaeological evidence suggests that… that the Prothean Empire had burned entire worlds to eradicate the threat of the Thoi'han. In terms of danger, they are as threatening to the galaxy as the Rachni… possibly worse." Goddess, the Thoi'hans still existed! The historian in Liara was thrilled! Everything else was absolutely terrified. That class was not given to bore students about species once long dead; it had been given in case something such as the Thoi'hans, the Metacon, or the Rachni were ever to resurface, and the Alumni of the Presidium Academy expected to use their positions and influence to make sure the dead _stayed_ dead. "Garrus needs to know, Captain. It is a part of our sacred duty as Alumni to make sure this creature is exterminated immediately."

"No arguments there." The Council Agent replied, her tone as hard as Iridium. Good, there was no need to convince the Level Three SPECTRE of the importance of this. No doubt more than a few Academy Alumni had made it into the ranks of the Council Agents to action in on a request such as this, not to mention that all three Councilors themselves were Academy Alumni. But they could not afford to wait for another vessel to arrive, to possibly infect others… to give the Thoi'han the possibility of escaping and infecting others.

They _could not_ leave until the infection was completely eradicated.

Liara found herself comforting the child as the Captain ordered Detective Garrus Vakarian to meet them in the middle of the colony, knowing that whatever it was that was waiting for them, it was not waiting for them on the surface. Shepard was giving orders, looking to her team as she looked to Liara last, the Protheantologist still holding the child in her arms. Newt was grieving, having lost everything. Her mother, her _athintar_ , her male sibling… Ashley. _Ashley_ , Liara's hearts twisted at the thought. She had seen Ashley infected in Newt's eyes, along with Marshal Samantha Collins, Agent Zevin Raeka, and Lieutenant James Vega. It was an extremely likely possibility that Petty Officer Sara Ryder was as well. If they had been truly contaminated… then they had to be eradicated as well, regardless of personal feelings. Raeka and Sara were Academy Alumni, and had been through the same classes as both Garrus and herself. They understood the threat, and would know what would need to be done if the worst should happen.

Yet…

Liara… she was falling in love with Ashley. She did not think she could do it.

Then there was the the fact that there was a Level Three Council Agent who saw her Second as a sister; Captain Jane Shepard would _never_ okay such an order. Liara also _highly_ suspected that Garrus and Sara had been in a relationship before; not a merely casual relationship, but a fully romantic one that she believed ended due to external forces and pressure. Family, if she had to guess. Garrus was an incredible shot, a brilliant Detective if reports and rumors were true, and a very intelligent male Turian who himself was an Alumni. Liara did not think Garrus would let Sara die, no did she think he would watch someone kill her, Thoi'han or not. The signs were there that the Turian was likely still quite quite affectionate for Sara Ryder. Trying to stop Jane Shepard and Garrus Vakarian at the same time when she had her own doubts would not end well for her, no matter how powerful she was biotically. If they were only infected, then they were merely under the control of the Thoi'han. The course was clear.

They would have to destroy the Thoi'han to free their friends.

Goddess give her strength for the plan that she was going to have to enact in order to do so.

* * *

Seaman Monica Valerie Negulesco was tactically bounding forward with her hands wrapped around the grips of her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle, the Navy Corpsman's eyes scanning her sector of fire as TEAM LION moved down the main boulevard of Hadley's Hope, split in half so five were moving down the port side of the boulevard, while the other half did the starboard side. Monica was currently in between Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard and Specialist Niki'Raan nar Tombay, in the middle of the five-man team with the big game hunter Urdnot Wrex taking the lead and 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko providing rear security with his Milkor SuperSix M32 MPML Grenade Launcher in hand. As the team medic, she was placed in the middle of the formation for the most protection, having one of the more unique professions for ground forces. In normal Marine formations, she would have likely been placed by the Platoon Leader or the Platoon Sergeant, who would have been in the middle of a formation for most effective command-and-control. For TEAM LION? It was the generally the highest-ranking individuals who took lead in a stack, as was pretty typical for Special Operations, as Nugee understood it.

Well, being in a stack being led by the Lion certainly didn't make one feel that their odds were low!

Urdnot Wrex was a bit of an enigma, not at all like the rumors and stories of Krogan, and not like the one or two that Monica had met on Elysium. Instead of being loud, conceited, forceful, and antagonistic, the big game hunter was introspective, watchful, thoughtful, and led with actions instead of words. He wasn't one to give into manly boasts of prowess or accomplishments. Instead, Negulesco noticed that whenever someone was training or working, he would keep an eye on what they were doing and then give helpful suggestions on how to accomplish the task in a more efficient manner, or pointing out small flaws to improve upon to gain better effectiveness. Though he never called anyone by their name (save for the Lion, she had evidently earned herself that distinction in the Krogan's eyes), he was never condescending or petty.

It was as Chief Ryder had said about Wrex; he was like a warrior grandpa, gruff and tough, teaching the 'young whipper-snappers' how to do it right with tough love and a kind soul. She knew Wrex kept an eye on her particularly, one of his red eyes always rotating every few seconds to spot what she was doing while the other continued to scan (supercreepypasta, that!). Yet Monica knew why he was doing it; she was the youngest, the least experienced, but held an important job that she was slowly earning her keep in. During the clearing op of the ExoGeni Headquarters, Wrex had been paired with Doc Nugee both for protection and experience. The Lion had wanted their most veteran combatant to not only to keep an eye on her, but also help mold her, too. During that horribly long and exhausting operation, the big game hunter had watched over her, both for her safety and to turn her into a better Navy Corpsman. He had given dozens of quietly-spoken helpful tips on how to hold her weapon better, how to use all of her senses to know when something was off, how to scan in several different patterns to fight against assumptions, and a helpful story on how to make a Turian retreat (that one almost made her pee herself). He had never demeaned her actions, correcting her methods without admonishing her, and giving her praise when she got it right.

Wrex also gave useful tips on how to get females of several different species to the mating couch. Monica blushed hard at those suggestions.

Monica's Mattock continued to scan in a zig-zag pattern, sweeping port-to-starboard as she kept an eye on her sector of fire, then sweeping upward in a diagonal to look for threats above the horizontal plain, seeing the pre-fab buildings' roofs and keeping an eye on any threats that were on the high-ground, sweeping over the balconies before diagonally going back downward to sweep back through ground-level in a pattern Wrex called 'the _klen'tash_ ' (hourglass, she suspected, the pattern drawing that figure). She knew a dozen scanning methods as well as different hand placements for her weapon, which ones were better for longer-range engagements or rapid target acquisitions. Those tips had worked out well in ExoGeni as Doc Nugee found herself engaging Geth and Husks in the ExoGeni Headquarters, fighting alongside a Krogan with his Turian-made Heavy Assault Rifle and super-large Krogan shotgun that blasted things silly in one round, only the largest of Geth able to survive the first round or two from what he liked to call 'the Mawkiller'.

Wrex led, and the team followed without question.

The boulevard was choked with potential threats; doorways and alcoves, equipment and containers decorating the path, and then there were the pods, dozens of them. Each one looked to be almost the size of Detective Vakarian, but they were split in half, some sort of goop having leaked from the organic containers and spilled over the ground. According to Doctor T'soni, people once were inside those pods, changing them into something she called 'Thor'rian Creepers'. That had Monica very quiet; something was turning people into monsters, much like the Geth were doing to make Husks. She hadn't seen the assimilation of a Human into a Husk (thankfully, she had heard the story of what happened to Lance Corporal Jeong), but she had seen over a hundred of the converted creatures as they had come in ragged bands from behind corners and crawling through ducts to try and kill them, or worse, stab them and assimilate them. They weren't Human anymore, and every one that Nugee had shot had gotten a prayer and a request for forgiveness for the soul that was once a normal Human Being. If she had turned into one of those things, she would profusely thank whoever ended her to prevent her from harming another soul.

 _Lord, please give me the strength to carry on, to see this through,_ Monica asked as she scanned an empty pod for any threats, finding just an empty shell covered in goop. She tried not to think of a man or a woman inside the thing, trapped and… mutating. That almost made her want to regurgitate, but she was made of sterner stuff now. TEAM LION continued down the boulevard, passing a location with a neon sign flickering **'BAR'** with smaller words indicating _'and grill'_ underneath, Captain Shepard's team checking the location for a few minutes before coming back empty-handed and without a shot fired. Doc knew what that meant; they hadn't found anything. Only four of them had entered as Doctor Liara T'soni remained outside as four Humans breeched the Bar and Grill, the Asari Protheantologist protecting precious cargo; the only living soul they had found in all of Hadley's Hope. Little Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden simply would not leave the Maiden's side, and no one was questioning it at all, not even the Lion. Something utterly terrible had happened here, and Newt was its sole survivor.

Monica's heart went out for the little girl, knowing that she was an orphan now. Much like the Lone Wolf, Newt had inexplicably pulled through what others had not due to circumstances and the fact that she had been stuffed in a ventilation shaft. According to the little girl, 'Miss Ashley' and 'Miss Sara' had kicked in a vent cover, pushed her in, and stalled an advancement of monsters to give the girl her escape, defending her with their lives. The thought of Chief being… attacked by these monsters both angered and frightened Monica. Chief was a good woman and her friend, and the thought of the Angel being hurt by strange creatures had Monica very worried for her friend and supervisor. That Chief Ryder and Sergeant Williams had given their lives to save just _one_ person hadn't surprised Doc Nugee at all; that was just the kind of people they were. Negulesco really hoped that they were okay, only so they could watch TEAM LION absolutely _obliterate_ whatever had done this to the colonists and Marines of Hadley's Hope.

" _We're here,"_ came the voice of the Lion over her helmets' vox, the glowing faceplate of the armored visor looking to the door to the Main Complex as the ten members (plus one child) reached the entrance. Monica got into a defensive position along with Niki'Raan, the blue-suited Quarian Pilgrim hoisting her _lightning_ gun in her three-fingered hands, monitoring the north end of the colony where they could both see a lone Turian figure bounding towards them in a search-and-sweep pattern down the middle of the boulevard for maximum distance from any flanking threats at the risk of complete exposure. It only took him a few moments to reach them from the far end of Hadley's Hope, being covered by more than a few weapons from TEAM LION as he approached, his talons cradling his ERCS M-15 Vindicator colored in C-SEC fashion. The Turian C-SEC Detective integrated himself with the rest of TEAM LION, his visored helmet looking over the situation, no doubt his ovaloid eyes absorbing all.

" _Team? Listen up._ " The Lion spoke up, everyone pulling security as they listened to their Commanding Officer. _"We're going to assault this place and kill anything and everything that doesn't resemble a recognized Citadel species. If you see someone who may be infected or affected by Species 37, orders are to incapacitate and detain for further evaluation. There have been way too many losses against the Geth just to write people off. I'm getting sick and fucking tired of these Pyrrhic victories. We need a win, folks."_

There was a round of ' _yes, Captains_ ' and ' _aye aye's_ ' from TEAM LION. Humanity had already lost so much with the Assault on Constant, the Attack on the Dig Site on Therum, the ACV _Horizon_ , and the Battle of LaGrange Point Two. While each one had been a victory for TEAM LION, each one had been a loss for Mankind as a whole.

" _Knuckle up, folks."_ Captain Shepard said quietly, her armored visor sweeping over _her_ team. _"Doctor? Keep Newt next to you, and prepare for the worst. This is going to get ugly."_

* * *

Author's Notes: This was a chapter that was a little fluff, a good deal of establishment of history and character (Wrex gets a little spit and polish, and I like making him a ladykiller), and some meat for the team.

The Codex in the first game suggests that the Thorians and the Insuonnan may have existed during the same cycle; there is a planet (Eingana) that had spaceships of _three_ different makes; possibly the Insuonnan and the Thorians fighting the Reapers, though it wasn't verified in the game. _LogicalPremise's_ "Of Sheep And Battle Chicken" used this as a unique mission over a few chapters to make another Thorian, where the Turian Hierarchy was practically doing the same thing as ExoGeni, feeding people for knowledge of the Prothean Era. Instead, like the mythical Metacons, I made these two alpha species go head-to-head in which the Protheans went to eradicate the Thorians much like the Krogan did the Rachni (who, according to canon, existed during the Prothean Era, too).

Asari mindmelds weren't very detailed, descriptive, or described other than the 'embrace eternity' thing. There were personal suggestions of intelligence-gathering and perhaps even mental coercion, but no confirmation. For Liara, it was a way to describe Newt's experiences through the eyes of a child without dialog; being able to see with her eyes instead of reading her thoughts. I think I suggested this somewhere in _Dig Site Alpha_ with Sara and Irissa, but don't go into details much since there really aren't many to use Canonically.

This marks the first time I've officially confirmed that Sara and Garrus were in a relationship previously, having dropped hints in _Center Of The Known Universe II_ , as well as when Garrus mentioned that the 'shots' that Ballsack would be receiving for having unprotected sex with a dextro-chiliary being would indeed hurt because he had, in fact, found out the hard way when having unprotected sex with a Human woman himself (the woman in question being Sara Ryder). This was written out for two stories that were a part of the **Sara Ryder: Milky Way** tryouts that accumulated into what is now "Of Lions And Angels", one being My Binary Star, and the other Citadel Blues, where the _**Red Harvest**_ will come up. In both stories, Sara Ryder and Garrus were 'seeing' each other, though in _Citadel Blues_ it was awkward dating while in _My Binary Star_ , they were actually in a physical, romantic relationship.

Would someone include a child into a military kill team? Only if there was no other possible choice, such as no actual safe location, enough people to look out after them, or something of the like. This has actually happened to me during my first tour in Iraq when we pulled a little girl our of a really terrible scenario while on a foot patrol.


	37. Master Of Puppets, II

" _Glory to the Empire of Man. Now here's your Bolter/Flamethrower combo." - Space Marine Veteran to a recruit._

 **Main Complex, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

Author's Note: Battled through a horrible, horrible writers' block that lasted several days. Barely did a couple hundred words a day until I found a way out and wrestled that motherfucker to the ground and put two to its head. Mostly thanks to Mick Gordan's _Doom_ soundtrack. Nothing says love like heavy rifts to the ears and a heavy caliber to the face.

* * *

 _This place is a_ pinche _deathtrap,_ Corporal Jeanette Maria Sanchez Vasquez thought to herself as she hoisted her Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, leveling the weapon in a combat stance, aided by the carrying harness meant to lessen the load and help keep the weapon on-target by reducing its recoil. She was wearing an emergency rebreather over her nose and mouth since her helmet had been damaged fighting the Geth just a couple of days ago, though it seemed so much longer. She had gotten lucky; the round that cracked her faceplate and tore the armor off the forehead portion of her Aldrin Labs' Onyx Heavy Interceptor Armor had ricocheted outward, taking the spray of metal that was her helmet away from her and not towards her face and eyes. Captain Shepard had been worried about the possibility of biological contamination, and Seaman Monica Negulesco had converted two rebreathers for both herself and _la pequina nina_ , Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden. Vasquez wasn't thrilled dragging a little girl along, but there was nowhere else for her. The _Azul Flor_ , Doctor T'soni, was watching over the _nina_ , likely the best one for that job. Didn't hurt the _nina_ was practically attaching herself to the Asari's hip anyhow.

Jeanette scowled as she entered the darkened Complex with her Marshal at the ready, the _grande cazador_ Urdnot Wrex taking the opposite side of the corridor with his Turian-made Cipritine Armories' T-24 Phaeston Heavy Assault Rifle in his meaty paws, both of his independent eyes moving in a searching manner as he lowered his helmet for a moment to sniff the air like a _perro_ , searching for scent. As she understood it, Wrex was hired to take out big nasty things that haunted colonies and hunted colonists, a sort of space monster hunter or some such thing. Going what he said was 'quads' deep' into a building for something abducting folks was right up his alley. Vas wasn't about to turn away any help they could get, no matter the species. Before? Yeah, she wasn't a big fan of aliens, having grown poor and tough in the _barrios_ of East L.A. where _hombres_ and _lolitas_ were more worried about catching hell from the _pinche_ _Rinches_ or from the _cholos_ and _urbano vaqueros_ peddling _mesque_ or _arena roja_. No one on the streets care for the _alienigenas_ or cared about them, more concerned for their own struggles back in Old L.A. Of course, one of their kind showed up? Then they were usually found in a gutter, beaten to death.

Amazing what a few days of working with some xeno _hombres_ could do in a _cuchitrill_ such as this.

"Air smells foul." Wrex's grumbling voice announced softly, his eyes zeroing in on the nearest pod, the thing burst open. "Like mold and death."

" _Jesus Christo_." The _Latina_ breathed out, not because she disagreed, but because the situ sucked _cula_ , big time. There were over nine hundred _colonos_ in this building, pushed in with Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulick wanted to play _grande mierda_ with them. The corridors should have people in them, people that were pissed to see them. Instead… instead…

All that was in these halls were ill-lit corridors and burst pods.

 _You can do this, you're a Marine,_ Jeanette reminded herself, wishing she could wipe the sweat off her face, sweat that was coming from stress and fear. There should have been Marines on the outside, but there were none found. There should have been colonists in he Complex, but they hadn't seen any yet. Everyone was gone, like her Platoon was gone. At least the _pinche_ Geth didn't slink around and hide like cowards, giving a good stand-up fight. This? This was so much worse.

" _Slow and steady."_ Came the voice of Captain Jane Shepard, the Lion standing in between Vas and Wrex, armed with her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, Humanity's First SPECTRE right into the shit, taking lead and taking charge. Jeanette knew who this woman was before meeting her… _Jesus Christo_ , was it only just the day before? Between the Geth attacks on Hadley's Hope, the jaunt to ExoGeni, clearing out that _culo grande_ facility of a Headquarters stuffed full of Geth and Husks, not to mention a few Krogan under the employ of some _puta_ named Saren, and then everything afterwards? It was hard to believe it had really be just over a day or so thanks to the thirty-plus hour days on Feros.

Vas had taken a nap on the drive back in the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle, utterly worn out. She hadn't gotten any sleep, her dreams filled with the sight of people shoved onto meters-tall spikes dropping down to rend into flesh and bone. The stress, the exhaustion, the lack of proper meals at their proper times were getting to her; she felt like she had long ago since run past empty. Yet for many of TEAM LION, they seemed to be able to forge ahead despite having been through the same conditions as she, even the Marine Riflemen. Hell, little Doc Nugee hadn't slept on the trip back, caring for the little Quarian girl, Ensign (!?) Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, Seaman Monica Negulesco the only one able to keep the Pilgrim alive. She was still going strong despite the fact that this was her first ground deployment. There was no way in hell Vas would flunk out in front of Navy pukes and their _alienigenas_. She would keep going.

There were Marines here, there were colonists here. _Mierde_ , they had a _kid_ here!

" _Padre Nuestro, que está en el Cielo…"_ Vasquez breathed out slowly and quietly, scanning the darkened corridor of the Main Complex as she moved forward alongside Wrex and Captain Shepard, her Marshal primed and ready to go in case some ugly decided to jump out. " _Santificado sea tu nombre."_ Vas huffed as she heard the clatter of bootfalls upon the grated floor of the Main Complex, the noise irritating as it broke noise discipline, but expecting so many people to be that quiet was an impossibility. _"Venga a nosotros tu Reino…"_ The leading three people of TEAM LION went past the first pod in a single stack, the Lion taking the lead as Wrex went after her and Vasquez after him before the rest of the team followed once the heavy front had been reestablished. _"Hágase su voluntad en la Tierra como es en el Cielo."_ Vas kept her Marshal sweeping back and forth slowly, aiming the barrel at every dark corner and crevice, inspecting every opened door that was cleared by the team members behind them, Detective Garrus Vakarian leading the clearing ops with Private First Class Louis Broussard and Private First Class Holland Hoss. And there were many doors to the corridor. _"Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día…"_ The words were working as Jeanette continued to speak them whenever she felt afraid, her back aching something fierce and her feet felt like every step was on broken glass. She had been up for well over a day, damn near two, without any real rest or break save that _mierde siesta_ in the MAKO, with the bouncing around and the dreams. _"Y perdona nuestras ofensas…"_ Jeanette winced as they reached an intersecting corridor and found more pods, no longer one or two shoved onto a wall; there was a cluster here. _"Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden."_ Shepard moved forward, taking the center spot of the intersection fearlessly, standing right in the damn middle and pivoting to sight down one corridor, and then about-facing to observe the other. A grunt on the Lions' part had Vas and Wrex dash forward and occupy the intersection as well, taking the flanking corridors to provide security as the Captain looked down each to decide which way to go next, and chose the left corridor, where the Corporal was facing. _"No nos dejes caer en la tentación…"_ Jeanette was in the lead for a moment before other members of TEAM LION replaced the Lion and Wrex, the SPECTRE and the Krogan joining each side of her as Vazquez flexed her jaw and moved forward, now in the lead. _"Y líbranos del mal."_ The moved forward at a half-pace until the telltale click of a tongue on the roof of the mouth from 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, their rearguard, indicated that he was established in the same section as they had the three of them bounding forward at a tactical pace, avoiding more empty pods and empty rooms in the corridor. _"Porque Tuyo es el Reino, el Poder, y la Gloria por Siempre Señor."_

" _Amen."_ Captain Shepard replied unexpectedly to her left, making Jeanette tense a little with the reply, but she heard five other voices utter the same word in acknowledgment and benediction. Vas hadn't meant to be overheard, but no one was giving her any grief, either.

"Miss Jane?" The little _nina_ , Newt, whispered loudly to get the attention of the Lion. The front stopped as Jeanette saw the Lion turn her head to look upon Newt who was standing by Doctor T'soni's side.

"They're here."

"How can you tell?" Vasquez asked, her muscles tensing and her nerves going on overdrive. _La pequina nina_ had survived all this without any training or a _gaat_! If she said something felt wrong, Vas was going to listen. _Madre de Dios_ , the little girl survived something horrific on her own.

"There's no more skittering noises." The colonist replied meekly, her tone afraid as she clutched at the Doctor beside her, as Jeanette rotated her head to crack her neck and regripped her hands on the handles of her M-56 Marshal, her grip so tight she heard her own knuckles crack. The Marine had heard the slight sound of what she thought were rats in the ducts of the Complex, but now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen one rat in the entire month she had been on Feros. "The big hole that we made to escape is over there." The little girl pointed towards the direction they were facing. The colonists had tried to did their way out as if escaping a prison. Well, they had been.

But they had found something. Something bad.

" _I think it's reasonable to assume there's no one on this level, or they're bunkered safely and opening the doors might put them in more danger."_ The Captain said, making Vasquez nod in agreement. There wasn't any real location they could stuff anyone into, and they had already cleared most of the smaller buildings' in Hadley's Hope to look for the Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit, finding none of them. _"If that intel on Species 37 is correct, then it's likely that the people have been collected."_ No one wanted to say it out loud, Vas included, but they had all learned what the 'Thorian' thing was suppose to do; eat people like a Venus Fly Trap or some _mierde_ and use their bodies like some… pinecone-laying monstrosity. Those pods they had passed before…

 _Jodor_ , there had been people in them.

" _Vas, take us down the corridor. Keep it tight and frosty."_ The SPECTRE told her softly with a pat on her shoulder, either to give her reassurance or to communicate her meaning. Jeanette pursed her lips and rotated her neck to crack it, trying to ease the stress she felt in that ill-lit passage as she moved forward, taking the lead with a Human SPECTRE to one side of her, and a Krogan on the other.

She felt like she was going down that mythical rabbit hole. _I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!,_ the damn song ran through her head, and the Marine tried to force it out as she began to move down the corridor.

It was like walking in hell.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard, (SAN, N7, OST) kept her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle at the up-and-ready as she walked alongside Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, the Marine Gunner walking almost like a robot. It wasn't hard to imagine that the Corporal was probably scared as shit but would never admit to it in a million years, not having to face the same things that the members of TEAM LION had. Yet despite the scenario they were in, the gloom of the Complex with its dim lights and burst pods, the Corporal didn't lose her cool. Jannie had to admit that she was impressed with the Gunner; during their infiltration and assault of the ExoGeni Headquarters to throw out the Geth and ascertain what the synthetic race was after, _Adios_ had been there every step of the way, putting bullets-to-enemy with the rest of them in a manner that was more than just competent. 2nd Lieutenant James Vega had said the woman was an artist with her Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, and that she was. She could pour fire in the best locations, whether to stave off an assault, suppress a defensive position, taking advantage of a weakness, rounds always finding their target and not waisting a Celsius more than necessary with her fire on bad aim or overkill. If they made it through this fucking shitshow, the N7 was going to make the Marine Corporal an offer she'd likely wouldn't refuse; the possibility of joining TEAM LION. They had occurred losses, and it was sadly up to Jannie to replenish the ranks as necessary, and she wasn't about to let some slack-jaw mouthbreather who was likely to get themselves or someone else killed as an option. Jannie needed both competence and versatility. Jeanette had showed on several occasions that she had both.

Of course, they still had to make it through this fucking shitshow, of course.

 _Swear to God, I'm going to set fire to the ExoGeni Board Members when we're done with this,_ the Council Agent thought to herself, trying not to liken what she was finding in the Complex of Hadley's Hope with the Earth Alliance Carnival Cruise's ACV _Horizon_.While that had been a heart-breaking ordeal (especially with what happened to Lance Corporal Hong Jeong), that had been a true enemy action; the Geth had assimilated all those people, and they were the ones to blame for the deaths of four thousand souls at the very least that TEAM LION had been forced to kill in order to retrieve the vessel and return it to Alliance Space. But this? No, these people in Hadley's Hope had been killed by a _Human_ Corporation for the sakes of money. They weren't any better than pirates, slavers, or assassins, those who killed or terrorized for green or personal enjoyment. Just because some motherfucker wore a suit, had an offer, and held a degree did _not_ mean they got to play God.

 _On fucking fire_ , Jannie promised herself as she crept down the ill-lit corridor, her Saber at the ready.

There was a turn in the corridor, and at the silent count of three, Corporal Vasquez, Captain Shepard, and Urdnot Wrex rounded the corner to engage any threats with their respective weapons. Standing in the corridor was…

"Lieutenant Vega?" Jannie called out as loud as she could get without alerting everything through her vox as she spied a large Human male wearing Aldrin Labs' Onyx Heavy Interceptor Armor, toting a M-56 Marshal Machine Gun. The helmeted head turned slightly to look at Jannie, and she noted that the Marshal wasn't slung, merely pointing downward at the ground. Where the barrel was pointed at was a large hole cut through the deck's grating, evidence of earth and dirt around the surrounding rim to indicate someone had cut much deeper than the Complex's flooring. "James, that you?"

" _Yes, Captain."_ The man replied, though his voice was… monotone through the vox speaker of his Onyx helmet that covered his face save for the narrow visor that allowed him to see. There was something about his response that had Jannie take a mental step back, not approaching the man like she might have. She couldn't put her finger on the why of it, though she had a sinking feeling she knew what this might be. Newt had said she had seen the Lieutenant just like the others; infected with green air. That could mean he was under the Thorians' control, though she didn't know if that meant a little bit, a lot, completely, or the range. Perhaps wearing a helmet prevented him from being controlled; ants on Earth used pheromones to communicate. For now, she was going to play it as if Vega were a potential hostile.

"What's in the hole?" Shepard asked, keeping her Saber pointed slightly downward, but ready to snap up at a moments' notice. Neither Wrex nor Vasquez followed her lead on that, keeping their respective weapons at the ready. She certainly wasn't going to admonish them for the precaution as her heart hammered in her chest. She could be talking to a man… or a fifty-thousand year old boogyman. _Fuckin' ExoGeni_.

" _Talk to Sara. She's in charge."_ That had Jannie lurch for a second, hearing Sara's name. The whole time she had been worried about her team members that she had left behind on Hadley's Hope, but none more so than Sara Elaine Ryder. Was Sara okay? Shepard wanted to ask but bit her tongue. If Sara were okay, Newt wouldn't have been alone in a ghost town, that Shepard knew without a doubt.

"Okay, where is she, El-tee?" Vega wasn't acting like he did before; quiet, with short answers that didn't provide any information. She could see Jeanette's uncovered face, her mouth and nose protected by a translucent breather cup, and the N7 noted that the Corporal's jaw seemed to be chewing something without eating. That gave her all the confirmation she really needed; something wasn't right at all.

" _Down the hole. Talk to Sara. She's in charge."_ The Marine Officer insisted, his weapon never moving from the hole, more like a marker than an instrument. Jannie didn't need to be told how the others of TEAM LION felt; it was a trap. But it was extremely likely that Sara, Ash, Sam, and Raeka were down there, not to mention the colonists of Hadley's Hope and the Marines of the Fourth Expeditionary Unit.

As well as the thing that was the center of this whole shitstorm; Species 37, the Thorian.

 _It's a plant, how bad could it be?_

"Alright, Lieutenant. Lead the way."

* * *

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian was not in a good mood.

The former Blackwatch Turian stood in an overwatch position as he saw Captain Jane Shepard send her contragravity armored turret Bastilia down the dug-out hole to inspect it for traps or ambushes, taking a full minute to let the armored assault turret to ascertain any threats. This whole plan had gone to _s'kak_ though that wasn't the fault of anyone here in TEAM LION. He honestly couldn't say that he would have done things differently with the knowledge that he had before, leaving key members at Hadley's Hope while the rest of them had gone to discover what the Geth were after. He couldn't even say he would have left different people either, each of the members left behind chosen for their profession and the accomplishments, wisely-selected and correctly-chosen. It just hurt that this whole _s'kak_ -storm had involved people he trusted, ones he had no problems calling friend and comrade.

Garrus cradled his Kassa Fabrications' M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle and relished the thought of when he was going to be using it next.

 _A Thoi'han. Spirits! One of the ancient horrors!_

Vakarian remembered that class well from his time in the Presidium Academy of Education, his sire so _proud_ when Garrus had passed the Acceptance Exam at fifteen years of age, earning himself a spot in the most elite school in the galaxy, where Generals and Admirals sent their hatchlings to follow in their sires' footsteps. Alumni of the Academy could be found in the highest echelons of just about any endeavor of the galaxy, boasting to have educated corporate magnates, financial titans, political powerhouses, Generals, Admirals, Chamberlains, and even Councilors. The whole concept of the Academy was to educate a sapient to their fullest potential, to create a community of the most elite in a network of intelligence and success to practically rule the galaxy with knowledge, wealth, power, and networking. It had been this way in Citadel Space as well as outside of Citadel Space for nearly a millennium, educating the youth of some of the most powerful sapients in the galaxy so they to could control the motions of the galaxy.

The pretext was community and guidance. But really it was just a power play for galactic domination, which had been going on for nearly a millennium.

It was a bold plan that worked, honestly. Since the inception of the Presidium Academy of Education and its grossly exurbanite tenure, there had been no major wars in almost eight hundred years when Alumni from all species generally found themselves in key positions of power throughout the galaxy, tightening the grips against costly wars and destructive politics by commanding the most amount of political, business, and financial power in the galaxy. The Academy was as much a training camp as it was a font of knowledge, and its members prided themselves on keeping the galaxy in check. No more Rachni Wars. No more Krogan Rebellions. No more Unification Wars. There hadn't been a war that involved more than a system or two in almost a thousand years, keeping war itself in check by carefully inserting key people in key positions.

Each student had been told every day at the Academy that they would be the inheritors of the galaxy, and Spirits forgive them all, but the Academy was correct.

But there was the other side of the Credit coin, too; the ability to destroy everything if necessary.

And Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian, son of a C-SEC Executor, found himself at talon-range of just one of those reasons that they had all been warn about.

Not much was known of the ancient horrors that the Protheans fought; the Metacons, the Oravores, the Zah'til, the Ditakur, and the Enduromi. Bits and pieces had been molded together throughout the centuries of Protheantology, discoveries many by dozens of species brought together to craft a picture of the Empire From Before. While Vakarians' specialty didn't include archeology or paleontology, he had been educated to know _of_ what happened to the Prothean Empire, though no one knew what had driven it to collapsing extinction, though a brutal fast-paced war seemed the likely conclusion. The Metacons had been a some sort of sentient living machines, not like an Artificial Intelligence that takes over the body of a mech or even like the Geth. Supposedly they were evolved machines with crafted synthetic thinking processes that made them individuals, technically an Artificial Intelligence, but what little information was known suggested that the Protheans were unsure who or what had created the Metacons in the first place. The Oravores were an organic race of atmosphere-breathing aquatic-descendant species that had tested itself against the might of the Empire, seeking to dominate and enslave the galaxy, seeing their species as apex predators and the rightful heirs to all they saw. The Zah'til were a race that had stupidly grafted synthetic components with various intelligence nodules that turned them into a blend of organic and synthetic intelligence that supposedly wished to place their line of thinking upon all the galaxy, seeking perfection through unity (under themselves, of course). The Diakur were a warmongering race that had struck the Empire and its client races for sapient trafficking, a hyper-aggressive species that thrived on war. The Enduromi were another race that tested its strength against the Protheans as well, supposedly committing genocidal acts and wiping out a client race. Supposedly, the Rachni existed then, too. Each of these races had been obliterated and hunted to extinction by the Protheans.

But none more-so than the ancient Thoi'han. Protheans had burned _worlds_ eradicating the Thoi'han.

How terrible could these creatures be? Even the Rachni worlds hadn't been glassed.

One semester had been dedicated to the Prothean Era in the Academy. Several hours had been sequestered for the ancient horrors… and what an Alumni was meant to do upon discovery of the existence of one of those ancient monstrosities.

 _Spirits… I don't think I can do it._

Garrus watched as TEAM LION began to file into the hole, being led by Captain Shepard first, no surprise there, and then the rest took a small plunge into the recess, only a three or four meter drop as the Turian understood it. His eyes went to Doctor Liara T'soni, the only other Alumni left in the group now that Agent Zevin Raeka and Petty Officer Sara Ryder were… gone. The four of them together could have easily made sure that the Thoi'han would never see the light of day again, convincing the Captain to kinetic strike the colony to ensure it. If a Thoi'han were reported to the Council, no doubt the Councilors would immediately vote to glass the planet just to be on the safe side, each of them Alumni themselves, as well as the Grand Admiral of the Citadel Defense Fleet, the High Admiral of the Hierarchy Navy, the Matriarch Admiral of the Republican Navy, and several other leading military organizations in the galaxy. Feros would likely have ten percent of its mass reduced to ensure success. The Thoi'hans had _scared_ an Empire more powerful than the Council so badly that they had glassed entire _worlds_ to make sure the job had been done right.

Seems they missed one right under their snouts. Feros was once a Prothean world, and there was a Thoi'han on it. Perhaps a prisoner? The last remaining subject of its species, held in check for observation and science experiments? Regardless, it had to die.

But that's not what worried Garrus; his thoughts were of the colonists, the Marines, and their own team members. _Sara…_

" _We will save them."_ The Asari Protheantologist said quietly through her Hydra Armaments' Lindworm Medium Armor helmets' vox, the visored slit where her eyes could see looking right at him, Vakarian seeing sapphire eyes looking to him. _"They may yet be pulled from the grips of the Thoi'han, Detective. If they are only infected, we may pull them from the grips of that ancient horror."_

"I hear a lot of 'ifs', 'mays', and 'hopes', Doctor." Garrus replied softly, unable to disguise the sadness in his sub-vocal tone. "I want to rescue them. I want to see them safe. I want her to…" He stopped his words right on their path, knowing he had said too much.

" _I know, Garrus."_ The Asari Maiden placed a gentle hand on his forearm, her eyes showing pain. _"She is worthy of you, and you are worthy of her. It does not surprise me at all that you would still care for her despite what might have happened before. If the situation were reversed? I see Sara trying to build a miracle out of tech and equations to free you."_

"I see Ash setting that _vracking_ thing on fire for you." Oh yes, he had seen the Asari Doctor and the Human Soldier growing closer, which boggled him at first. Originally, Ashley Williams hadn't been too keen on sharing ships with non-Humans. She had grown since then, due to no small part of being a part of TEAM LION and the budding relationship between Doctor T'soni and herself. Garrus had been like her once himself; not exactly fond of Humans. It had been Sara that had changed his mind and view of the species from Terra. "I don't want to see her dead, Liara. Not by anyone's hand."

" _I agree. Which is why I have a plan."_ The Asari looked to see that TEAM LION had almost fully gone into the hole that would likely lead them to a monster of the stars. Garrus chuffed at the thought, but he didn't argue with it. Liara was damn smart and just as motivated as he to get their friends and loved ones out alive.

"I'm listening."

* * *

 **Subterranean Level, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

 _Sha'ran_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay was quickly finding out that she was a terraphobe.

The Marine Rifleman held her Rannoch Industries' Adas Electrostatic Discharge Rifle in her three-fingered hands, her grip tight on the pistol grips both at the trigger and the barrel of the weapon, working hard to keep her panicked breathing to a more manageable level. It was… just all this earth! Above her! Below her! Around her! It was like being entombed alive! All she wanted to see was metal, to hear the clang of boots on a grate, the spot of LEM diodes upon an electrical panel, to see the comfort of wires and hull protecting her. She could swear to the ancestors that the dirt was clogging her filters, trying to fill her EnviroSuit with its grit and its dirt. Didn't these _bosh'tets_ know that the ground _collapses_?

This was worse than Therum. _Way_ worse.

The Quarian Pilgrim mentally muscled her way through, trying to get herself in a more relaxed and tactical manner, trying not to move like a 'droid or a 'mech, but her digitigrade legs felt stiff and uncooperative as her suited feet hit… _ugh! Earth!_ Why couldn't this ancient plant thing grow on the surface, like a proper plant? Weren't most plants attracted to sunlight and water? How did some _krev_ plant in a _cave_ get water and light? This wasn't the Hydroponics Section of a Quarian vessel, after all!

Niki _hated_ being underground, and tried not to look up to much to see if the tunnel was about to collapse.

What was worse than being underground was the fact that they were practically walking to some _bosh'tets'_ lair like this was some stupid action-vid, probably some Turian _tuho_ at the end of it bristling with weapons and a condescending duel-tone. She'd been watching Human vids with Private First Class Louis'Broussard nar Elysium vas Normandy, and most of them were silly-stupid that the Marine Prospect generally snorted through the 'action' parts, scoffed at the 'romance' parts, and practically slept through the plot. Human action vids had nothing on a good Asari action immersevid with their swords and biotics and…

 _Ugh! Earth!_

" _You okay, Niki?"_ That was Louis, her… she wasn't sure what they were. _Pay attention to the situation, not your malefriend!,_ Raan admonished herself, but paying attention equaled wondering if there would be a rockslide and collapse the tunnel they were in or… like that one movie Bra had watched with her when some Human man had gone treasure hunting and had to outrun a rolling boulder. That had scared her more than the tubular scaled animal things the Human male supposedly hated! She jerked her head up and behind her. No, thank the Ancestors, no rolling boulder.

"I was born on a ship, and I live on a ship." The Rifleman said as her grip tightened on her Adas. "Where are we now?"

" _Um, underground?"_ That was Private Nathanial'Balsach nar Terra Nova vas Normandy. _Bosh'tet_ -extraordinaire. He was always looking at her mammaries, Humans more attracted to her milking glands, as oppose to her lush hips. Well, he looked at those, too. But generally her mammaries when he thought she wasn't looking. Louis certainly liked her mammaries and liked to touch them whenever they were together and alone. Well… it wasn't unpleasant, and it certainly made him more affectionate. She was a girl out on her Pilgrimage, not in the confusing crowded bustle of the Fleet. She would be far from the first Pilgrim to have sex with an alien. She wasn't sure if they were merely quarterpartners or something more yet.

"Think it through, jhar hee-ad." She tried saying the Alliance English word without translation, but her mouth wasn't evolved for saying _jarhead_. Still, everyone knew what she meant, and Seaman Monica'Negulesco nar Elysium vas Normandy chuckled softly at the rather apt description of Ballsack. "It would be like if you were forced to live under water." That almost had Niki shudder at the thought. How the Hanar did it she had no idea. Nor did she want to. All that water! Ugh!

" _Need something?"_ Doc Nugee asked softly from behind her, holding her own Winchester Arms M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle in her hands, looking much more at ease than Raan felt. Didn't Humans evolve from some tree-climbing furry thing? How were they so comfortable? They should have been fretting like a Volus stuck in an airlock with a Krogan! _"Got a dextro version diazapham that can help the nerves. It's an anti-anxiety medication for such situations."_

"No. Being afraid means being alert." And Niki didn't trust that the… ceiling? Was that the word? She didn't trust it. Not for one second. It'd fall if she weren't glaring at it.

The tunnel kept going on as they marched through this death trap that had some killer plant thing. Why couldn't have been on the surface?

Niki kept her proper distance from Louis, who was marching tactically to her starboard, his hands coolly holding his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, the helmet of his Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor moving back and forth as he kept to his sector of fire… which happened to be more ( _ugh!_ ) _**dirt**_. The tunnel/shaft wasn't very large, only letting TEAM LION walk two at a time, being led by a large bulky Human male, 2nd Lieutenant James'Vega nar Earth vas Feros. No one seemed to trust him, so Niki didn't trust him, despite the fact that he was a Human Marine like Bra and Ballsack. Some sort of wretched plant-creature supposedly had mind-controlling powers, and it was easy to put lead-to-connector and figure out that Vega was leading them to the 'bad guy' (silly Human vids!). Everyone knew it was a trap or an ambush, and they were ready for it.

Just… did it have to be _under_ the surface? Plants grew on the surface! Raan had seen pictures of it!

 _Cousin, be glad you aren't stuck in this dirtcoffin with me!_ The thought of Tali'Zorah nar Reyya twisted her heart as Niki's left hand ungripped the forward grip of her Adas to touch Tali's Rannoch Industries Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emission Shotgun on her left thigh, somewhat wishing her cousin _was_ here. That would mean that she were alive and well _in the_ vracking _planet_ instead of the SSV _Normandy_ , medically evacuated with an emergency code as her cousin clung to life. _Ancestors, please look out for your Daughter!_ , Niki thought to herself as her left hand went back to its deathgrip on her Adas, really hoping something silly or stupid would pop out in the narrow tunnel, like one of those terrible Human horror vids that really weren't that scary. Shooting something right about now would seriously improve her mood.

Then again, the bad guy probably wasn't dumb enough to get themselves _stuck in the dirt. UGH!_

The tunnel kept going on, no end or relief in sight as the Pilgrim panted, feeling the earth suffocating her, the sound of dirt scrapped by treading suitboots getting on her frayed nerves, the sight of dirt cascading from the hull of the tunnel frightening her. How much of the planet was above them? Ancestors! They could get crushed! Tunnels collapsed! It was a statistic! That's why people invented mining drones! But _nooooo…_ they just had to go trapezing down the _earth hole_ to face some sort of ancient monstrosity. They couldn't kinetic strike it from space or… send some sort of anti-fungal gas down the hole. Poison the _bosh'tet_ good with some weed killer Asari advertisements were always going on and on about for their sacred Thessian gardens and whatnot. _Here lies Niki'Raan, killed by earth!_ Her Fleet Captain would not be pleased, and she would be the laughingstock of Migrant Fleet Marine Recruits, buried in dirt instead of being cloaked in the stars. _Bosh'tet,_ Raan thought to herself as she felt the grit and rubble of _dirt_ under her soled feet, _you could have elected yourself to protect the little out-of-her-bubble Human girl on the surface! But nooooo… let's swim in the dirt like its some Asari tidal pool!_

No, she would have never abandoned crew like that, but it was an entertaining thought. Niki regripped her Adas once more and tried not to think of how many megatons of earth was above her helmet.

" _Take a fiver."_

That was Captain Jane'Shepard nar Ticonderoga vas Normandy. The term 'fiver' meant a five-minute break, for everyone to 'take a knee' and rest while one could. Niki'Raan tried not to think how her knee was touching _the dirt_ but she did so anyhow. All of them had been up for well over a day, going on near two, and it didn't look to being over any time soon. She watched the Captain (and the dirt) as the Human SPECTRE went to each individual, seemingly giving each one orders or words. Niki really liked Captain Shepard; she was easily a match for any Quarian Fleet Captain _and_ Quarian Fleet Marine Commander combined! She was strong, tough, fearless, cared for ship and crew, and loved building destructive toys. In a group comprised of well-versed warriors and fearless combatants, she showed herself to be a step above and beyond that, leading them to victory each and every time against numbers that were frightening! She was the epitome of what a SPECTRE _should_ be; a warrior without peer.

" _How are you holding up, Raan?"_ The Captain came to her, taking a knee beside her after she got done talking to Bra, the communication private.

"Stuck inside a planet with kilometers of dirt above us with a murderous mutant plant that might make us think were Hanar Fornax stars? I think the Turian might need a hug!" Niki quipped, eliciting a chuckle from the non-Quarian. "I hate it under-the-ground. It's going to squish us."

" _I know what you mean, actually; I was born on a ship, and lived on ships or stations my entire life until I joined the Navy."_ That was right, Jane'Shepard was known as a 'spacer' amongst the Humans. _"My big one was open doors. First day on Earth, and someone just walked right out the door and outside and all I could remember thinking was 'oh God, we're all going to get sucked out!'"_ That had the Quarian Pilgrim chuckling a little. Yeah, she totally understood. _"Took a week for me to walk outside without feeling the need to puke or cry out of that fear. Took another year for the nervousness to go away. Don't think I've ever told anyone that. Not even Sara."_

"We'll find her." If it had been Tali? Niki would forge _megameters_ underground to see her cousin and friend safe, dirt be damned! "I got some Hydrogen Slush grenade mods stored in my OmniTool if you _really_ want to set something on fire."

" _Oh boy, trapped underground with a firestorm. Sounds lovely."_ Raan could hear the amusement over the personal communication. _"Hey, you are doing well, especially if its in a location that would be personally difficult for you even in normal circumstances. Didn't think of that, honestly. Guess I should be glad I don't have the same issue."_

"Yeah, didn't Humans evolve on trees?" Not at all like the plains and steppes of Rannoch that were displayed on pics, paintings, tapestries, and even decorated on the hulls of the Fleet, reminding the People of the Home That Was.

" _Yup, just sat on a mango tree until our tails went away."_ The non-Quarian replied with a chuckle. Niki just looked at the Special Forces Warrior for a moment, boggled.

"Wait…you have tails, too?"

* * *

2nd Lieutenant James Vega led the way, and Captain Jane Shepard followed.

Wherever they were going, the N7 knew that TEAM LION was close. The tunny they had been traveling in for the past hour or so had broadened, and there was evidence of a few of those sickening pods that they had seen in the Main Complex adhered to the rock walls of the tunnel, obviously where poor colonists had been dragged underground and… whatever it was that had been done to them. Though… no, that hole in the deck of the Complex hadn't gone outward, but inward. The colonists had been stuffed into the Complex by the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit, and some of them had gotten the idea to escape by digging their way out like a prison break. They had dug and found a tunnel, and no doubt saw it as a path to salvation.

Poor bastards.

The Human SPECTRE kept one eye on the Lieutenant, who had nothing more to say than ' _talk to Sara, she's in charge_ ' whenever a question was asked, infuriating the hell out of her. Jannie wanted answers, not walking towards an obvious trap. Unfortunately, it seemed that Sara and the others were down this little fuckfest murderhole, and unless she missed her guess, the Thorian would be down here, too. Good, because she had it to about her eyeballs in this bullshit. She was going to find this flower or frond or whatever the fuck it was and set it on fire. Then she could rescue her friends and the colonists and get the fuck off this shithole planet post-haste. Jannie did not like being underground, and having next to no room to maneuver certainly wasn't improving her spirits, either. She held her M-99 Saber Battle Rifle at the ready as she led her team deeper into the tunnel, wondering how the hell they were able to fit some nine hundred colonists and two hundred plus Marines down here. Were they cocooned? Jannie tried not to think of some of those classical movies from the late-20th and early-21st Century, campy horror movies where people ended up meals or whatnot to something nasty. Because she was practically about to walk into something similar.

Why couldn't they be facing something… benign? She was seriously considering missing the _Geth!_

The tunnel was getting brighter, an echo of illumination peering before them as Vega led them on, Jannie looking to her starboard to see Urdnot Wrex beside her. The N7 gave the Krogan one nod, remembering the instructions that she had given him personally and him alone. Three others had also gotten something similar, a set of personal instructions to face whatever was in front of them as the N7 looked forward, the Augmented Reality Overlay Display on the interior curve of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Helmet beginning to shift from low-light intensification to a lesser degree as her eyes began to see more into the gloom of the tunnel, no longer having to rely on low-like amplification and the armor's on-board advanced VI mapping program that highlighted contour lines of the tunnel and outlined friendly units. She would bet her SPECTRE armor that they were about to walk into the boss level. She hoped to God the damn thing didn't monologue like some cheesy action vid bad guy.

Show up. Blast plant silly. Save colonists, Marines, and team. Everything else expendable. Play by ear and adapt to changing conditions.

No need to over-complicate it, after all.

The tunnel terminated into what looked to be a humongous cavern as Vega walked forward, looking neither left nor right, his M-56 Marshal never sweeping from side-to-side to check for threats, Jannie noted as she slowed her pace, waiting for the man to put some distance in between them as she found herself slowly able to see more into the cavern the closer to the tunnel's end she got. The gloom was almost washed away as Captain Jane Shepard passed through the entrance into the enormous cavern that looked large enough to fit a colony in, the bowl extending almost as high as it was wide. _God, you could fit a small_ city _in here!_ , Jannie thought to herself as she took a few steps into the interior, looked to her port and starboard to make sure the immediate vicinity was clear, and found her slowly pivoting to see the entire scope of the enormous hollow cave that she was now in. _How in the_ fuck _did the Protheans miss this?_ Shepard was pretty sure she could guess the reason, the easiest one being that the extinct race _hadn't_ missed the Thorian or its cave. Still, Jannie looked around the cave, taking her time as she looked at the bowl that had to be at least a _cubed_ kilometer in size, in awe of what she saw.

Inside was something like a paradise.

There was a microclim inside the cave, that was easy to ascertain. Every surface and crevice of the cave was covered in growth, most of it easily recognized as some alien flora, the N7's touching upon what carpeted the deck of the cave, a spiky grass-like frond growth that blanketed the ground, vines and leaves decorating the caverns' walls, finding recesses and cracks for purchase as the vines crawled their way upward at least dozens or so meters. There were even tree analogs, tall trunk-like sentinels that had mushroom-like caps for its tops. There was a vibrancy of color to the cave, mostly in the hues of yellow and indigo and in between those, and Jannie briefly wondered if this was what Feros had looked like before, before the Protheans' industry and growth had conquered the planet and build over literally everything.

And in the center of it all. Jannie saw her destination.

It was a house… of sorts, if a house could stand what appeared to be two hundred meters tall, wide, and thick, in the shape of what appeared to be… _Jesus, it looks like a gigantic testicle_. Sitting in the middle of the cave was certainly something hanging from thick cables drooping from the ceiling of the cavern, looking for all the galaxy like a gigantic scrotum sac, a slightly wrinkled bag with venous protrusions decorating its surface, its lowest-most portion bulging with something circular and full…

 _Oh… oh fuck…_

That wasn't the house for an alien plant.

That _was_ the alien plant!

Jannie felt herself almost in shock at the sight of it; the thing was larger than the SSV _Normandy_! It was practically the size of a Light Destroyer! It didn't look like a plant, not really. The information terminal back in ExoGeni Headquarters stated that Species-37 did spread a spore that allowed it to infest and communicate with other 'sentients', and spores were a fungal or mold-like seed…

 _Great, a giant killer puffball mushroom_.

Vega was walking down the bowl, seemingly without a care in the world as Jannie turned her head and _'snicked'_ her tongue to her team, indicating that they could enter the cave now that she was sure the ambush wasn't immediately at the entrance. The remaining ten members of TEAM LION entered into the cavern, and she could hear a few whispered words of wonder through some of their vox's of the sight of such a lush environment inside a cave in what had to be at least two kilometers underground. Jannie wasn't even a hundred percent sure where the luminosity was coming from; she didn't see a hole in the ceiling of the cave to indicate an area where sunlight was coming in. _Bioluminescence, perhaps?_ Sara would have gotten a kick out of this, seeing life pulling off miracles in the most unlikely of places. _Sara…_ Jannie thought as she looked to where James went, the Marine waiting a dozen or so meters away, slightly de-elevated from the natural bowl that the Thorian occupied. The N7 noted that the slope was too even, too smooth to be natural; this wasn't a hole made by millions of years of water and microfractures from microtremors; it had been carved out. _Amphitheater, maybe,_ the cavern did seem to be made into a large half-sphere, perfect for acoustics. Jannie trudged forward slowly as she swept the surrounding area with both her Saber and her wonder, her mind whiling at the implications. _The last of its species… the last of its kind… and they kept it in a cage!_

 _This is a zoo!_

Now it made sense to her as Jannie continued to lead TEAM LION, the members of her team automatically moving into a wedge formation with her at the head of the point of the inverted 'V', designed to cut a swatch forward if necessary while maximizing upon volume-of-fire in sectors with three to four people able to engage the same target without having to shift-fire or turn. In terms of totality, it was the best formation possible for facing a likely ambush from the front or the side, able to shift and respond in an direction from the front and the side. _The Protheans must have went on an eradication spree to kill off these Thorians, but left one alive… as a living display case, to show their Empire their might by parading around the defeated enemies of their kind and culture. Much like the Romans did, trudging defeated generals down the main boulevards of Rome, the Protheans kept this specimen as a way to wank their ego, burying it upon a city-wide planet and probably making money off of tourists with the thought of showing off a monster!_

Fucking disgusting. At least the Council hadn't kept around a pet Rachni to show off.

" _Captain, there are subjects in the tree-growths, keeping their distance and concealment."_ Detective Garrus Vakarian said over the SquadComm, his tone quiet as the Turian cradled his ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, updated and modified by the Rapid Response Unit Armorers to make a very lethal rifle for the most prestigious law enforcement unit in the galaxy.

"I see them." Her ARO had highlighted the movement, and she had Cortana zoom in on one of the creatures in a separate viewing window,, and Jannie winced at the sight of what Newt had called ' _green monsters_ '. Despite the child-like description… Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden hadn't been far off. They were humanoid, around the size and shape of a Human, with two arm-like upper limbs and two leg like lower plantigrade limbs. But the rest of the creature was covered in some moss-like covering for skin, green and yellow, thick enough that it seemed to _be_ skin. _Organic armor, perhaps_ , Shepard wondered as she followed Lieutenant Vega, heading deeper into the bowl, approaching the humongous testicle-thing that just dangled there, suspended by trunk-thick cable-vines that came from the top of it, connecting it to the ceiling of the amphitheater, probably meant to collect water or even sunli… _no, this thing doesn't use photosynthesis_ , the N7 reminded herself, remembering what the ExoGeni Database had informed them, horrifying the redhead at the thought that this plant _ate_ people as food. "Don't engage unless engaged or I give the signal. The colonists and the Marines might be down here, and they might be mind-control. If it's Human, use non-lethal munitions. We didn't come here to kill innocent folk." Once Jannie got done setting the Thorian on fire, it would be Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Hulicks' turn. That bitch was getting tossed on the pyre too, the two-timing cunt.

TEAM LION continued down the path forged by Lieutenant Vega, the testicle monstrosity towering over all as they got closer and closer and closer.

Shepard felt the ground shift from _slant_ to _flat_ as they walked through a forest of mushroom trees and frond-grass, finding a clearing that was about a hundred meters square, cleared of vegetation as she walked forward, her team staying in the cover of the alien trees as she went ahead, knowing that she was probably about to get the James Bond Villain treatment or some shit. One didn't escort an armed and armored opponent unless they were trying to sell something, and Jannie had the feeling that's what was about to happen; the Thorian wanted something, something that _she_ had. While the clearing itself was void for most anything and everything in the front of the gigantic plant hanging from the ceiling, the N7 saw that the clearing was positively _lined_ with those creepy green monster things, hundreds of them lining the area as if to watch a show, none of them moving forward. Yet in front of her was a small group, most of them facing her. Jannie immediately recognized the persons in front of her with a grimace as Lieutenant James Vega included himself in that line of five sapients, turning to face her, standing to the port-most position of that line. Four people faced her, and Vega clicked a portion of his gorget to collapse his helmet to reveal his face, showing the same signs as the four others; green web-line lines spreading under their skin, obviously infected. Their eyes, too, showed the same indication, bloodshot with green blood vessels, all of them looking right at her, not saying a word and not moving a muscle.

2nd Lieutenant James Vega, Marshal Samantha Collins, Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams, and Agent Zevin Raeka.

In the middle of the line was the only one with their back turned to her, gazing upon the Thorian, the figure in ultrablack and deep bloodred armor. The only one that moved, the only one that seemed cognizant.

" **You came. We knew you would. We've been expecting you."**

Jannie flinched at the sound of that voice, so familiar yet so foreign as the figure turned, and Shepard's heart twisted in her breast at the sight of the same infection on that face, on _her_ face; the same green-webbed desecration spreading under the skin, yet still visible, eyes that were tainted with green, bloodshot blue eyes. The N7 had hoped beyond hope that the worst hadn't come to pass, but seeing the remaining members of TEAM LION in front of her had made that hope a folly.

The figure turned, and Jannie's heart broke at the sight…

…of Sara Elaine Ryder.

* * *

Author's Note: I had some straight up begging on what I did to Sara and Crew at the end of _The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, IV_ , people honestly went and cried.

I'm not translating all that Spanish. Some of it is 'potty language'. The Lord's Prayer is in there, and the rest should be pretty easy to figure out.

Taphephobia is actually the fear of being entombed or being buried alive, which is different from claustrophobia (fear of enclosed places). There isn't a 'proper' term for being afraid of being underground, so I went with one people would likely recognize; fear of earth.

The movie Niki'Raan references is _Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark_.

Quarterpartners? - Quarian version of a fuckbuddy. 'Quarters' being another word for a room for a Sailor or member in the military.

I still remember my thoughts of the Thorian when first encountered for the first time in Mass Effect; probably blasted it for five minutes before some squadmate told me to go for the nodes (and being too dumb to find them all quickly). Instead, I changed the Thorian a bit with a mix of that _one_ cave on Habitat Seven (the survivor tree) with a drove of bad guys. Seriously, where did all those Creepers come from anyhow. Well… now you know.


	38. Master Of Puppets, III

" _For a storm is certainly coming; whether by my hand or someone else's. And I have no idea who will survive to see the dawn." - Red Queen, "Glass Sword", Victoria Aveyard_

 **The Hive, Subterranean Level, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

Author's Note: Welcome to 'the sell'.

This was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever written. Made the Battle of LaGrange Point Two look like a shooting range involving fish in a barrel and a Auto Saiga Shotgun compared to working out this idea and dialog.

I've never _dumped_ more than a few paragraphs before. I literally worked on this one chapter seven times over to try and get it at least well.

Spot the _Avengers_ references for a good giggle.

* * *

" **Magnificent, isn't it?"**

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) stood ten meters away from Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder as the young woman turned to look upon Species-37/Thorian, the gigantic plant-testicle thing dangling their, the sac in which was its skin slightly pulsating and glistening as well. Jannie noted that something dripped down its slightly veiny surface, and she briefly wondered if it were water or slime. The last thing that the N7 really wanted to think about was some weird alien goo trying to drown them. Lord only knew what that sac thing was filled with. Organs? Sap?

" **A survivor of the eons, this beautiful growth."** Not-Sara spoke, her voice deeper, almost unnaturally so. It wasn't beyond human ranges deep, not dipping towards the bass scale. No, there was something else behind those words; something powerful, something ancient. It was almost like there was force behind those words, more than just air. The young woman's exposed face had been lit up with wonder gazing upon the Thorian, the smile not at all like _hers_ ; this one had been more of a maniacal glee. **"Did you know that we predate what you know as the Prothean Empire? The Thanatul were evolving from insects upon an irradiated planet with a harsh star while we conquered the galaxy, bringing much meat to our grasp. We spread our Gardens from Core to Rim, through the dark expanses of known space. Everything you see was once ours."**

 _Great, a villainous monologue_. Sara wasn't like this at all. Jannie's eyes flickered to the four that stood at Ryder's side, all of them armed and armored, though without their helmets. Each of them held their heaviest weapons in their hands; 2nd Lieutenant James Vega was armed with his Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, Marshal Samantha Collins with her HMWSG MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Shotgun, Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams with her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, and Agent Zevin Raeka with her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle. None of the moved, standing like armed statues, never saying a word or moving a muscle. _Bodyguards_ , Jannie realized, seeing how they flanked Sara but faced the threat; herself. The same people whom she would trust her back with in battle were now standing in front of her, ready to gun her down at a moments' notice.

"You want something." Shepard wasn't about to listen to a gigantic planet talking to her best friends' mouth about how awesome it once was.

" **We were promised something by the poisoned meat, a promise broken by the decree of his star-metal monstrous master."** Not-Sara answered, confusing Jannie slightly. **"You call him Saren."**

"Saren was here?" How in the fuck did they miss that! Well, between the wreck of Fourth Fleet, the battle against the Geth armada over LaGrange Point Two, all the debris from the destroyed and exploded vessels now clogging up sensors around Feros, it was actually a possibility. And Saren could have used the first battle when the Geth had pounced and practically obliterated the Fourth as a distraction to arrive on Feros unimpeded. So that's what that had been all about; access. All those ships destroyed and those Sailors lost so Saren could get what he wanted. _And what Saren wants, he gets_ , that one Krogan said back in the Dig Site on Therum before having his headplate removed by Sara. The Geth were certainly generous to their pet Turian, weren't they? Fielding a Fleet as large as the one over the skies of Feros had been a considerable investment, representing practically man- _years_ of minerals mined and processed, the vessels fabricated and built, not to mention the shipyards, the elements necessary, the fuel, the programming that were the Geth… whatever they needed to bring about that many vessels. The numbers and materials had been staggering, even for a species that had no need for politics or money, it was still a factor of time and labor, no matter how many platforms go involved. All that for a plant… a plant that had predated the Prothean Era.

 _This thing eats people… and gains intelligence!_

"He used you, didn't he?" Jannie ventured, talking a small step forward as she looked up to the Thorian, silent and hanging, and then down to the face of her oldest and dearest friend. "He interacted with a Prothean Beacon on another world, the same one I interacted with. But it wasn't enough. He needed more, so he went to you."

" **Correct, meat."** The voice came from Sara's mouth, though Sara didn't sound like that. She certainly never addressed her Auntie as 'meat'. **"The poisoned meat wished to share knowledge in exchange for a seed to the stars."** It took Shepard a moment to figure out what 'seed to the stars' meant. A ship. It wanted a ship to the stars.

 _Excuse me? What does God need with a starship?_ That memory came unbidden, but Shepard didn't ignore it. The Thorian was way too large to fit into a vessel, not to mention it looked connected to the cavern. But the creepy-looking green monsters and the five people in front of Jannie told a different story. The Thorian wanted to go back to the good old days, back to when it ruled the galaxy.

"You gave him the knowledge that you collected from Prothean… meat." Jannie said distastefully, rather disgusted by the proposal. Protheans had obviously captured this thing for whatever reason or purpose. Hopefully it wasn't some sort of sick science experiment, though the N7 had the sinking feeling that the Protheans probably were doing what ExoGeni was doing; feeding it people for knowledge. "He promised you a ship in return. You held up to your end of the bargain, and he reneged?" Jannie couldn't say she was surprised. Evidently, an ancient monstrosity could be conned. Unfortunately, that meant that Saren walked away with whatever it was he wanted from the Thorian; some sort of Prothean knowledge… knowledge for the Beacon? That indicated that it was just as confusing to him as it was for her. So Eden Prime _was_ a failure for Saren Arterius.

That meant he hadn't gotten what he was looking for, this… _Conduit_. Or these Reapers Benezia T'soni spoke of.

Unfortunately for Jannie, she was a step behind, and it looked like the only way she was going to get that particular information was out of a gigantic testicle plant with a taste for the other white meat.

" **The poisoned meat was merely a vessel to his masters."** Not-Sara said, dismissing the issue. **"There would be seeds to the stars sooner or later, and we merely waited for the chaos that would surely follow in the meats' wake. But when we learned of you, meat?**

" **We saw opportunity."**

Jannie had a bad feeling about this.

The thing that was Sara turned around to view the Thorian, her hands held behind her back, as if in contemplation. Jannie wanted to scream in frustration, to get the thing out of her friends, to get the thing out of Sara. But she had no idea how. Not yet, at least. They weren't under attack, so Jannie was going to take a play out of _Sara's_ book and do some research and investigation. No doubt she could piece something together if the gigantic plant testicle was more interested in talking.

" **Two-hundred and ninety-two thousand of your planetary years, meat, since we first took to the stars."** Not-Sara spoke, still facing Species-37. **"We evolved from a fungal growth that was useful for breaking down biological components, adding to the natural state of decay by reducing so much matter into more appropriate elements; nitrogen, carbon, calcium. Millennium spent as carrion before we began to evolve, to gain rudimentary intelligence and sentience. Bodies became colonies, colonies that attracted others so that they too could be fed from, extending our lives. Colonies connected through evolved spores, able to communicate on the winds to create a network of colonies, to integrate growth and chance."** _Thanks for the history lesson,_ Jannie thought distastefully, saying nothing. There would be a moment of opportunity, something the creature would expect, or its hopes hinged on. And then she was going to exploit the _fuck_ out of it. **"It took millions of your years before we became the master of our world, evolved toward domination. Once our Garden had become ours, we sought others."**

"You became space-faring." Ghost was already tracking every living thing in the area, tagging it and running it through the multi-core processors of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor. Bastila would dislodge and start defending with fire; obviously an organic threat would fear the flame. Cortana already had scripts ready to go to augment Jannie's armor for whatever she needed; speed, strength, smashing something's face in. But the plant was interested in talking, lauding itself and goading her. It hadn't reached its punchline yet.

" **It took generations to conquer worlds, world ripe with meat and resources,"** not-Sara continued, still gloating like some Credit-budget villain. **"One by one they fell to our tendrils, consuming the wealth of knowledge and meat this galaxy had to offer. A thousand worlds to be had as we spread throughout the stars thanks to the objects you call Mass Relays."**

 _Wait…_

"But the Protheans built the Relays." Jannie pointed out, frowning.

" **No."** Sara turned to face her, her hands still held behind her back as she looked at Shepard. **"They were there long before. Before we took to the stars, they existed. We consumed species that had gained their knowledge and use, and we used them too.**

" **Then the Firebringers came."**

Jannie noted that Sara's infected face looked… pained, nostalgic.

" **We fought against the enemy, as many had before, as many have since. And we lost."** The Thorian continued to talk, and Jannie felt a little lost. _Who the hell are the Firebringers?_ Had someone fought the Thorians and wiped them out?

"The Protheans?" _No, Sara said them by name,_ Shepard remembered. Had even called them by a different name; perhaps their actual name. This plant thing claimed to predate the Prothean Empire. It was an auspicious claim to make, but it might be a possibility. Plants did live for incredibly long periods of time, and this wasn't some Earth plant, either.

" **No. The Thanatul were wiped out by the Firebringers as well, as the Thanatul had nearly drove us into extinction during our preparations for victory."**

The N7 was beginning to think she was starting to see the picture now.

"So these Firebringers damn near wipe you out," Jannie began, still ready to fight but now realizing that this was intelligence. Saren had been here for a reason, had gotten something from this plant thing. "Wiped out others too, according to your words." _Many had before, many have since_ , the Thorian had said through Sara's mouth. "You wanted a Round Two but the Protheans went on their little intergalactic killing spree and did their best to obliterate you. You yourself were locked in this zoo cage thing, a way for them to gloat on their victory, showing you off like a prize. Sound about right?"

" **You are not wrong, meat."** Jannie was _really_ beginning to hate that word.

"Then why did Saren come looking for you? Besides being a potential suppository…" _Of knowledge_ , Jannie was about to say, but then it clicked. This thing had eaten Protheans, and supposedly had their knowledge. Saren Arterius was on the hunt for Prothean knowledge, absconding with the data of a Prothean Beacon, and then nearly kidnapped a Protheantologist who just happened to be the daughter of his confederate. Now he was enticing an ancient plant testicle for whatever it knew, but it went back to that recording that Tali'Zorah nar Reyyahad hacked out of a Geth corpse.

" _The mission to Eden Prime was a success. We are one step closer to finding the Conduit", Saren had said, his Turian voice sounding pleased in the recording._

" _And one step closer to the Reapers," Matriarch Benezia T'soni had replied, sounding so smooth and assured._

The Conduit was the means, and the Reapers their objective. Saren had launched a Geth Fleet to take on the Fourth just for this opportunity…

 _This plant knows what Saren wants!_

"He asked about the Conduit and the Reapers, didn't he?" Jannie took one step forward, her right hand still on the pistol grip of her Alliance Offensive Firearms Initiative M-99 Saber Battle Rifle, maglocked to her chestpiece of her SPECTRE Armor. "Beacon didn't give him what he wanted, so he went to you with false promises." This had to be something more than just what Saren wanted; the Geth were obviously interested in it as well if they risked not one but _two_ Dreadnoughts plus a horde of ships, no matter how successful they thought they would be. "Did you actually give him what he wanted, or what he thought he wanted?" She didn't trust the plant, and she doubted the plant was stupid; it had been alive for an incredibly long time evidently.

" **What was promised was spoiled."** Not-Sara said, looking to one direction. Jannie looked in the same direction as dozens of the creepy-looking creature things moved away to show what was a body lying in the bowl, what appeared to be an Asari. **"It had something we wanted, but the meat was tainted. This one showed much promise though."** Not-Sara raised and flexed a hand, and it took a moment for the N7 to figure it out when the hand shimmered slightly, as if a slight mirage had appeared around it. _Biotics…_

Why the hell would a plant thing want biotics for?

"Obviously you want something out of me, otherwise your little plant friends would be on me like pigs in shit." The N7 said, knowing that any kind of action would likely be disastrous for both sides. Yes, TEAM LION was outnumbered, but they had more than enough people to really cause some damage, and the Thorian obviously had to have known that. The only reason it hadn't attacked was that Jannie had something it wanted, something that it likely couldn't get if she were dead, maybe not even if it were controlled. That it wanted a vessel was obvious, since Not-Sara had told her. But something didn't quite add up. The Thorian itself couldn't escape, and it certainly believed that it was the sole survivor. Perhaps it hinged its location as a bunker; it had obviously survived not only a Prothean purge, but whatever drove the Protheans into extinction themselves. It thought itself a survivor…

 _Biology ensures survival in only one way,_ Jannie realized as her blood ran cold.

 _Propagation_.

"You want the _Normandy_ for a lot more than just a ride, don't you?" The N7 said coldly, staring at Not-Sara, at the green lines that seemed to spread just under her skin, slightly bulging the flesh with their presence, at the green bloodshot look of her blue eyes. "Something bad is coming, and you know it. You either want to fight, or you want to find a way to survive the storm."

" **You surmise well, meat."** The Thorian said through Sara, the Corpsman turned to look upon the gigantic plant once more. **"We were arrogance once to think ourselves the master of these stars, and we learned much to our folly. Nearly eradicated by the Firebringers, our Gardens burned, our seedlings destroyed. We had thought ourselves prepared."** There was a sadness to her tone. **"We through everything into that defiance, meat. Our very children, our very seed, our very existence. They sought to eradicate, and it was only because of their own arrogance that they missed this Old Growth, the only survivor of a galactic extinction, buried deep beneath the soil, the last child of what was once masters to the stars.**

" **It took generations to grow our strength,"** Not-Sara continued, **"to find species in which to feed from, to replace our once great numbers. We fertilized entire Gardens in preparation for the coming of the Firebringers, spreading our germ through meat to add to our collective strength. Alone, they would have perished, as many have before. To ensure survival, we added them to our Garden, to prepare for the day when they came to plow the galaxy once more for meat."**

"I take it the Protheans found you first."

" **YES."** There was heavy scorn and hate in that voice as Not-Sara turned violently to look at Jannie, her infected feature furious. **"The hated Thanatul encountered us, wishing for us to bow to their paltry 'empire' and their servile ways as if they were the master. They brought violence and called it peace, they brought oppression and called it freedom."** The Corpsman snorted. **"They had conquered many species for their empire, to feed their greedy roots and lift them closer to their own 'Avatar-Gods'. They came with warriors and fire, burning our germ and destroying our Gardens. They took the Old Growth as a trophy, planting it on this hostile Garden to be an amusement for their Avatars and 'Citadel' governors. Yet their empire was a decadent thing, many cracks in its stem and roots. They fought against the cold ones, what you think of as the 'Metacons', and lost many Gardens of their own. They faced the Racini, what you know as the 'Rachni', and more lives were lost. Together… together we could have stood. Together we could have won."** Not-Sara sounded exhausted, defeated. **"A hundred thousand cycles has the Old Growth lived, meat. It is tired, its seedlings and children gone. It is the last of its kind, the Firebringers' ultimate victory so close. For the sake of our Garden, we will not go quietly."**

"And who will we be fighting? These 'Firebringers'?" Shepard asked, her focus still on Sara. All this information wasn't giving her much, nor had she really heard anything that she thought would have interested Saren. If they had both interacted with the same Prothean Beacon, then it was likely that they needed the same information. Saren was looking for this Conduit and these Reapers. Any information Shepard could glean could let her exploit or deny him those items. The rogue Agent thought he needed the Thorian, so Jannie needed the Thorian. Unfortunately, it had Sara and several of her teammates, not to mention the colonists of Hadley's Hope and the Marines of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit. She wasn't about to jeopardize Human lives (and a Salarians' life) jumping to conclusions or jumping the gun. If there was a way for Jannie to have them released from whatever grip or control the Thorian had, she would do so. But she also needed whatever Saren wanted as well. She was in the classic Catch-22, in a bad position either way. She wanted to free her friends and the colonists. She needed that information though, whatever it was that Saren Arterius wanted.

" **We would fight the Firebringers. You and your meat would simply lose. As countless others have."** Not-Sara replied dismissively, completely disregarding anything that Humanity could possibly do. **"We have the knowledge of this current cycle. The coming of the Firebringers will go as planned on their part. You will lose."**

"Coming from someone who's now oh-and-two? Might want to step down on the arrogance a bit." Jannie snarked, her tone holding no mirth as Not-Sara scowled. "You lost once against these Firebringers, and then again against the Protheans… the Thanatul," she corrected herself, "who themselves lost to the Firebringers. Whatever weak-sauce plan you happened to have had? Probably going to end up with you turning into a pot roast."

The green-laced eyes of Sara Elaine Ryder looked at her for a long, long moment. Shepard wondered if she had really just pissed off a carnivorous immortal plant.

" **You speak sense, meat."**

Okay, Jannie hadn't expected that.

" **We have a proposition."**

 _Uh oh._

* * *

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian (C-SEC SCU, C-SEC RRU) held his position behind the trunk of a tree that wasn't a tree; it appeared to a large fungus growth of some sort that was easily a dozen meters tall and a quarter of that in circumference. He used the trunk as cover as he kept his eyes and the motion-capture program of his ERCS Rapid Response Unit-issued Kuwashii Visor on the enemy, his talons cradling his ERCS Rapid Response Unit-issued M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle, ready to fire at… well, a _larger_ sign of trouble other than the gigantic hanging ball plant that dominated the underground cavern that TEAM LION happened to be in. In his twenty years in the Hierarchy Military, fifteen of them in the Blackwatch Unit, and another twenty years in Citadel Security Services, fifteen of those being in both Special Crimes and Rapid Response, he had never seen or heard of anything coming close to the _Thoi'han_ save from what he learned of from the Presidium Academy of Education. As he understood it, even Thresher Maws didn't get to be this big.

The words of the proposition from the Thorian, coming from Petty Officer Sara Elaine Ryders' mouth? Even that had Garrus' mandibles fall slack in disbelief.

" _You might want to repeat that one to me again, motherfucker."_ Captain Jane Shepard said, her tone as hard as Iridium, and just as unforgiving. _"You want me to do… what?"_

" **The storm is coming, meat. The poisoned ones' tainted presence indicates that this cycle is nearly at its end-stage."** The thing that controlled Sara said through the young Human females' mouth, looking at the Lion. **"The Firebringers' are coming, meat, and you and your fellow seeds will be eradicated and used for fertilizer for the star monstrosities, seeding their vessels with your remains to create an abhorrence of life to further plague these Gardens. None have survived, none have succeeded, and we do not see the Gardens of Humanity being any more successful than their galactic predecessors. You and your kind are doomed, meat, as well as that of the other meat kind. They will fall as many others have before.**

" **We are your only chance. If you do not join us, you and your kind** _ **will**_ **perish."**

Garrus couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then again, he shouldn't have been surprised considering what the Thoi'han was and what it once did.

" **Imagine, meat, your species elevated, uplifted."** Not-Sara spoke, the figure of the young Human woman walking forward in a way that wasn't like the female he had once contemplated bonding with. **"It was Humanity that opened this infernal prison for us, it was Humanity that fed us when we were weak. No matter that those who first contacted us kept us purposefully weak, it was your kind that first came to us after all. The meat in question wanted knowledge, all that we knew, and that we are willing to provide. Your meat can be added to us, and we can in turn elevate your kind to greatness."**

" _You're… fucking shitting me right now, right?"_ Shepard asked, her tone not at all dubious as far as Garrus could tell. _"I'm still waiting for the punchline where this is one big ol' laugh."_

" **We do not make this offer in jest, meat."** The Thorian said through Sara's lips, Vakarians' mandibles flaring in anger hard enough that they rubbed against the interior of his helmet. **"Imagine, if you can, meat… peace in your time."**

 _Oh… oh_ s'kak, the Turian Sniper thought to himself as his hearts stuttered a little. He had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. _That thing is going to sell the concept of a perfected Humanity!_

" **Humanity is fractured, meat; many Gardens on many worlds, barely clinging together by writing upon edicts tossed aside for expediency."** Not-Sara spoke as she walked slowly to Jane. **"Crime, war, poverty, starvation, corruption, intrigue… all inherit amongst your fractured kind, meat. These very vessels that we now hold were as different as the many seeds that life can bring, each with their own views and goals, some willing to hurt others for their own personal wants.**

" **But what if that could all be brought to an end?"**

" _What are you telling me?"_

" **Mankind… redefined."** The Thorian said as Sara's infected face smiled, her green-bloodshot eyes boring into Shepard's armored visor.

" **We know of you, Lion meat,"** Not-Sara continued, **"for you are in the thoughts of these vessels who now stand more united than your species has ever had. You are a defender of your Gardens, a hero amongst your meat. Upon their stalks they place their hopes in your protection. Yet these seedlings are also poisonous, bringing calamity and woe to their own Gardens, willing to see themselves and others for their own personal advancements and interests. This is the Garden you fight for, meat. They are unworthy of you.**

" **But we can make them that way."**

" _At the cost of freedom and personal liberties?"_ The Captain exclaimed, her tone both shocked and belligerent.

" **The freedom to starve? The freedom to be victims?"** Not-Sara scoffed, waiving away the notion. Garrus knew that 'freedom and personal liberties' were a big thing for Human Beings, something he had in fact asked Sara about once, interested in the comparisons and contrasts between what a Human and a Turian thought. They really were quite different, but Vakarian had the sense that those two concepts were a big driving force for a Human. **"Tell me, meat? Is the personal liberty of one to use another for monetary gain worth keeping? For a sapient to look upon another as a means to an end? Freedom is a mislabeled concept that many never have, and only enacted by illustrious leaders to further oppress the downtrodden or enjoyed by those who circumvent laws for their own pleasures and profits. Are these freedoms worth it, meat, to make victims of your kind? For billions to be used as fertilizer for political expediency or to continue the progression of a broken machine that you call a system of government? No, 'freedom' is merely a word to keep meat in line, to ostracize when one of the rabble get out of line and failed to get away with it. And as for personal liberties? They are trampled upon by your very kind upon the meat you are so willing to defend for an agenda. Is this worth dying for?**

" **We can give them the very thing you are so willing to give your existence to defend in a way you cannot comprehend."**

" _By turning ourselves into some sort of… hive?"_ Shepard scoffed.

" **Not all, no."** The young Human female replied in a voice that wasn't exactly her own as she took a few steps forward, mere meters separating the N7 and the Corpsman. **"Give us your criminal, your dissonant, those who cannot do anymore. Humanity will be ensured survival, and prosper as never before. Full unity where seeds can be nurtured by loving Gardens, never knowing the taste of growing alone… as you did."** Garrus felt alarmed by what the Thorian was saying; it was making a _very_ personal attack, obviously knowing of the Captains' past. **"You went without your male progenitor, lost through war. He gave his life in a noble effort for his species, meat, one even we recognize. Yet how many of your kind were too ready to cast the blame upon those who fought so valiantly for the Garden of Shanxi?"** Not-Sara turned to where Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams stood. **"Did you know that this one's family was cast out of their Garden, left to wither and die upon the vine? Her grand-progenitor was a leader of your kind, and fought with every intent to hold out for a rescue that came too late. For his effort, they banished him and his seeds, exiled by weak plants who never knew the bitter taste of fire or the hollowness of being without sustenance. Is this the species you fight for? Is this worth saving?**

" **Is it worth knowing seedlings grow up without the shade of their progenitors, one gone by war, the other by her own volition?"**

" _You walk a_ very _thin line."_ The N7 growled, but Garrus had to wonder of Jane's resolve. This Thorian wasn't espousing upon its greatness any longer. No, it was using the collective knowledge of TEAM LION against Shepard, knowing where to make it hurt and how to hurt it. It was using the words that could make a sentient break.

" **We know the bitter tang of loss, meat."** There was no arrogance to that voice. **"We are the last of our kind, our progenitors destroyed, our children gone. We know the ache of loneliness and loss, to feel that which we yearn taken from us. That does not have to be the way for Humanity. Seedlings held in caring hands throughout your kind, all cherished and loved. No longer made second by personal endeavors or greed, seedlings cared for as they should by a pair of progenitors that will not elect a profession over their own seeds. How many children are without a progenitor due to conflict? How many do not have a progenitor because they elect not to put forth the effort? How many go without sustenance, without care, without dreams of a better and brighter future? Is this worth electing? Disassociation? Turmoil? Those who would use seedlings for war or pleasure? Is this freedom and liberty? To give those rotten in the stem the power to do as they please? To forever hunt rotten meat as they hide their deeds behind lies and money and laws?"**

 _This isn't good, this isn't good, this isn't good…_

" **Imagine your species without those things, together where the brave and bold are correctly recognized for their deeds,"** Not-Sara continued, taking another step forward, **"where those who have joined together** _ **stay**_ **together."** Garrus nearly growled out loud at that as his talons gripped his M-15 Vindicator tighter. That was a low blow, what the Thorian was about to say. **"You dedicated your life and your efforts to improving yourself for the sake of your species, meat. You also chose to share that life with another, one you hoped to be the progenitor of your own seedlings one day. While you struggled to be the growth that your progenitors would be proud of, the meat you call a provider sharing himself with others who would bear his fruit. Promises given and broken by the same wind that delivered them. A shame, really. To have only the briefest feelings of such ownership to see it slip away, to not understand the joy of the feelings of another, only your own.**

" **We feel it amongst these,"** the Corpsman indicated the other members of TEAM LION behind her, **"the caring a devotion each have for others. The one called Vega who looks upon an Uncle he would call his progenitor, a male who raised a seed as if his own. A worthy cause, a worthy shade in which to nurture, wouldn't you agree? And what of the one called Collins?"** Garrus noticed that neither Lieutenant Vega nor Marshal Collins moved with this personal information. **"Grieving the loss of her mate, her existence one of pain and loneliness, of nights with a cold Gardenbed to sleep upon, missing the warmth and affection of her companion. She is at ease now, meat, a respite from the ache in her broken heart. And this one, Williams? A bud of affection for a blue one, scared of what is different, hoping that she does not make the mistake that will break her heart for the risk she would take for walking a brave path she would have denied to tread before. She, too, offers shade for a seedling, thoughts of being a progenitor herself aching her heart at the thought of a… Newt. And Raeka, the poor exile, a bane upon her family for her decision not to have her seedlings used as pawns for her family's games, to see her sons cast about in space for the sake of a species that undermines all that others do, the first to strike from shadows."** Garrus felt his throat go dry with that, Raeka having never mentioned why she had refused to become a Dalatrass for the Zevin Clan. And this monster just blurted out her darkest secret in front of all. _Oh, Raeka, you did it for_ your _family, not the ones you were born to, but the ones you would birth_. Vakarian knew that their female Salarian was a brave member of her species, but now he had to fully admit that she was more brave than he himself; Garrus could have done the same thing for the same reason, but didn't.

" **And what of this Sara?"**

Garrus felt his hearts drop. No doubt Shepard felt the same. _Please… don't. Don't tell them what Sara thinks or feels. Her secrets are her own, her heart her own._

" _I wouldn't say another fucking word."_ Jane leveled.

" **And deny her the life she could live, meat? Free from prosecution, free from reprisal?"** Not-Sara smiled, her ruined features nothing like the female that Garrus had fallen in love with… was still in love with. **"Her heart is large, is that of our Queen of Blades. She bears the love of many, her Garden encompassing many. Her thoughts are of her progenitor and sibling, of a woman she looks upon as a hero, of a blue one she wishes to share her heart with, and the plated one that still holds it whenever she looks upon the one you call Garrus."** Vracking _son of a goat_ , Garrus thought to himself, knowing why Sara hadn't told others of her kind, knowing many wouldn't understand or accept it. He remembered Sara's stories on how Humanity struggled in accepting that what was different, even those amongst their own kind such as those of different religions, flesh color, and even gender choice. A Human in a relationship with a Turian was a _big_ taboo for both their species. **"She remembers the struggles that you yourself had in accepting her choice to breed with a race you despise, desperately hoping not to lose your respect. Imagine a Garden where she can have the** _ **freedom**_ **to chose whom she loves without reprisal or denial. Where others would accept her for who and what she was, for the greatness of her heart and not the shallowness of theirs? For a progenitor that would accept whom she wishes to share her life with, for the brother who wishes to share his affections with another but cannot out of the fear his progenitor would say if he knew…"**

" _ENOUGH!"_

There was dead silence in the cave, Garrus wanting to shoot something, _anything_ , but not knowing if it would do any good.

" **We can save Mankind, Shepard. The price is far less than what you think.**

" **All you need to do is accept."**

* * *

 _Half… oh God… half._

Jannie had never, _ever_ thought something like this would ever come to be.

It wasn't that she didn't believe the proposition. She had the nasty suspicion that every damn word that the Thorian had said through Sara's mouth was completely true. She didn't doubt that the Thoi'han or whatever the hell it wanted to call itself could do exactly what it proclaimed. Considering it was a gigantic Venus flytrap that could evidently absorb knowledge and control thoughts? Oh yeah, it could certainly 'perfect' humanity by controlling every single one of them and giving them the perceived notion of getting what they wanted. Freedom through mental slavery, liberties by forcing everyone to do the same thing.

But… it could certainly deliver on its other promises. No more crime, no more racism, no more lies. No more false political promises, no more devastating wars, no more lies. A perfect world, a perfect race. One worth fighting for. One worth dying for.

At the cost of half of the population of Humanity. From here unto eternity. Based on a threat that may or may not exist.

 _Saren came here with the intent to get knowledge from this creature,_ Shepard thought, looking at Sara-who-was-not-Sara, her ravaged face staring at her from a mere three meters away, intent. _Saren wants to bring something terrible, that much is evident. And this Thorian knows what it is and what it can do. With this knowledge, Mankind can protect itself from whatever calamity that fucking spike intends. Colonies can be defended, the military striking out to deny what Arterius wants._

 _But the cost! Oh God, the cost…_

Captain Jane Shepard found herself looking at the face of Sara Elaine Ryder, knowing that if she accepted, if she agreed, _her_ face would be the one to bring about this so-called' New World Order' to Humanity, a monster of the ages wearing the face of her dearest friend. People wouldn't understand, and there would be men and women who would fight to the very death to prevent something, even if beneficial. Even if the Thorian could logically and indisputably prove itself right, most of Mankind would resist, unwilling to give up their sovereign destiny of choice and free will. The potential utopia of unity and peace would start with the bloodiest war Mankind would ever know, millions easily dying as outposts and colonies fell. Half would be consumed by this monster, and the other half taken under its control. Men and women would know love and commitment as they willing handed over half their offspring as livestock, no longer the top of the food chain. Criminals would be eaten, those who proved useless or worthless to the destiny of Man taken and consumed as the rest became sheep, only a select few like Sara left in charge. It would be a horrifying Golden Era, a sinister paradise. She was briefly reminded of Adolphus Huxley's _Brave New World_ where the entire population of Mankind were cloned, conditioned, and kept practically in blissful catatonic euphoria with a drug called _soma_. Life had been perfect for them, but the thought of it had horrified people who had read it. Half of Mankind would be turned to food, and another forty-nine percent would be workers and drones to keep Mankind fed and producing children, both for the continuation of the race and to feed the Thorian. The last percentile would be in charge, like this so-called 'Queen of Blades' that was Sara. Jannie didn't miss the _StarCraft_ reference for Sarah Kerrigan, a psychic warrior captured, mutated, and evolved into a Queen for the Zerg who had taken over when the Overmind had been destroyed.

Sara wouldn't want this; not for herself, and certainly not for Humanity.

 _A looming threat that has destroyed species,_ Jannie thought hollowly, _and the possibility of ushering an era Mankind has always dreamed of but will never obtain. Humanity perfected over mass grave sites, unity without escape. A very dark heaven._

 _And it doesn't want to stay on Feros, that's for certain._

Jannie could see what it wanted a starship for; relocation. The Thorian itself wasn't going to be relocated; too big, too interconnected to this cave. No, it wanted a vessel to bring someone that could plant more Thorian seeds throughout the worlds of Earth Alliance Space. Would… would Sara be the Harbinger of those seeds? A mother of monsters? Breeding stock for terrible things to come? That thought put a shiver in her heart, and with that she made her choice.

 _I'm your Auntie, I'll always be here for you,_ nine-year old Jane Shepard once promised an hour-old Sara Ryder, young hands cradling such a tiny thing made up of swollen belly, curled limbs, and bright blue eyes that had been rather grumpy at being in this noisy cold place. But little Jane Shepard had looked into those brand-new eyes and felt love, and she kept her promise.

She would always keep that fucking promise.

" **We see that you are hesitant, meat."**

 _I really fucking hate that name._

"Well, first," the N7 began, "while you've been blathering, my ship that you want to use to turn the galaxy into your personal buffet has aligned itself for a series of kinetic strikes right at this position. Right now, you're vulnerable." Not-Sara's face hardened considerably as Jannie noted that the infected members of TEAM LION shifted into a more combat-oriented stance while the green monsters slowly took a few steps forward for conflict. The pitch had been told, the punchline over, and now it was time to close the curtains and end the show. "You yourself have suffered the yoke and didn't exactly find it to your wishes, yet you think that we would so easily fall under the sway of a terrible peace? Yeah… I don't think so. Which brings me to my second point."

" **Which is what,** _ **meat?"**_ The Thorian was clearly not amused, as Jannie smiled inside her helmet.

"We have a Wrex."

* * *

Author's Note: Who's looking forward to this? Hey, when you're facing ancient monstrosities, subtlety kinda loses its day in the sun.

This was, by far, the most difficult chapter I've ever written, primarily dialog and explanation for 'the sell'. This is by far the shortest chapter for 'Of Lions And Angels' and it took me the longest, too. I've rewritten it several times, and I'm still not particularly happy with it, though I think I covered my intent.

I threw in a couple of _Avengers_ references, most notably the last line ('We have a Hulk') but also what the Thorian wanted; half of humanity would survive. There's also a _Fallout 4_ reference, too; Mankind, redefined. I also mention _StarCraft_ as well, which is partially what this chapter is based off of; the existence of Sarah Kerrigan and what she eventually turned into.

There have been mini-themes to each ARC more or less, nods towards Science Fiction that I add to the story to give it is feel, such as SIEGE and Aliens/Pod People, LAGRANGE POINT TWO and Battlestar Galactica, FOREST and Star Trek: First Contact/Dead Space, CENTER and the concept of the Oasis from Ready Player One (the book), WATCH and the Robert Heinland book 'The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress', THERUM and (oh dear God) the movie The Black Hole (a favorite of mine when I was a kid!), and DIG with the Barsoomian/John Carter Series/A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs. I take the feelings (or perhaps the base concepts in some cases) and use them in each ARC to give each its own feel, a little bit for tone change, but also to color each part with its own feel. Some ARCs have been quite different (and unique) like with FOREST being a survival/horror ARC and one that likely doesn't exist much in ME-fanfic'dom, stuck on a vessel/location absolutely stuffed with Husks (which is partially a mission on Aequitas in ME2, the cave with the Reaper Monolith on it, or LAGRANGE POINT TWO being completely in space an involving a complete space battle from beginning to end, in which few get into with real depth because, as I found out, writing a space battle requires some finesse and understanding. I know I handled it brilliantly (LGP2 is by far my most popular set of chapters that I've ever written) but it required a great deal of effort and continuity on my part. Honestly, I thrilled at the challenge and am pleased with the tone and the success of it, but it wasn't easy.

The Commando Shayla is mentioned only once, the 'promise that was spoiled', the body of the Asari about a third of the way in. We're not going to fight Asari Clones coming out of a plant vagina. Someone out there (ahem, _SomethingProfound11_ ) mentioned a rather interesting concept involving Shayla that while wasn't my cup of tea, certainly perked my interest. In the game, you have Benezia and Saren as 'bosses' at boss levels, but someone with no real emotional involvement for Feros save this unknown Asari that keeps getting birthed in front of you. That's getting changed, obviously. So is the aftermath (as if you probably hadn't figured out I already torched the rulebook).

Now I get to embrace my inner-Wrex. Knuckle up and pony up!


	39. Master Of Puppets, IV

" _Mess with me, I let karma do its job. Mess with my family? I BECOME KARMA." - Jane Shepard (CPT, SAN, N7, OST)_

 **Shepard vs. Ryder, July 12, 2183**

Author's Note: Welcome to 'the fight'. I think I've teased you and hung you over the boiling pot long enough.

The one fight you'd never thought would happen is about to begin. And we're letting Wrex lead the charge.

Check out the disclaimer and the 'date' and go grab some popcorn.

Viewer's Discretion: I've opened up a poll in my profile where you (yes, _you_ ) get to choose the ARC following the next one (seven chapters from now). There are five choices in which you (dear reader) get to let me know what you want to see/read. This ARC will be made available in December (as I've already plotted November's ARC and will murder NANOWRIMO as best I can). Poll is open from 10/20/18 to 11/20/18. Participate!

* * *

With a bestial roar, Urdnot Wrex, born Battlemaster and Clan Scion of Urdnot, son of Urdnot Jarod, son of Urdnot Krull, son of Urdnot Gruuk, who killed the Grand Queen of the Rachni with a nuclear weapon after delivering it to her Hive and ending the Rachni Wars, leapt into the fray. Literally.

" _Wrex,"_ Captain Jane Catherine Shepard had spoken to him when she had called for a break, obviously delivering quiet instructions to individual members before they reached the end of the tunnel when they were being led by the obviously diseased Human, 2nd Lieutenant James Vega. _"While I don't actually have an idea what's going to happen, I can guess pretty damn well. We're being led in because this Thorian wants something, and I don't doubt that it's going to bore me to tears by talking."_ Yeah, that was about what he had thought, too. Trash always wanted to talk their way out of a richly-deserved death-by-gunfire. _"I'll distract it while you slink off and use those centuries of experience of yours to find the weak point, find a way to kill this thing quickly. No idea what it might be, so that's why I'm relying on you. You slip off, stalk your prey, and wait for my signal. Focus on whatever that target is to the exclusion of all else. We'll do our best to keep your back clear, but chances are we'll probably have our hands more than full with whatever's going to happen. Questions?"_

Wrex had rather been looking forward to the fight.

When they had entered the cave, he had noted that the enormous spherical growth that dominated the underground complex, and he surmised that _it_ was the Thorian; perhaps the brain, perhaps the heart, but it was certainly important. He let his eyes study the growth, and noted that it dangled from the ceiling from a series of stalks that came from the caverns' rocky roof, like roots that were upside down.

It was a plant; cut the roots. Simple enough.

The Human Captain had been right, Wrex mused as he had slowed down while the others moved towards defensive positions while Shepard was talked to (yeah, she pegged that one). The Thorian wanted the SSV _Normandy_ , to escape its cavern prison and the planet somehow. The details weren't very important; the Lion wouldn't give up her vessel for _kruv_. The only reason the entire place wasn't on fire was because the Thorian had her _krannt_ , most especially the one they called the Angel, Ryder Sara, daughter of Alec. While Humans weren't very tough on the Krogan scale (they were squishy, filled with water, and broke rather easily), Wrex recognized that both Shepard and Ryder were warriors, Warlords and Battlemasters of their kind. They had honor, they had courage, and they certainly didn't _talk_ their enemies to death like the Asari were wont to do. Pity neither one of them seemed interested in him; Wrex wondered how feisty they might be on the mating couch. Well, honestly he had overheard Sara and her Asari partner Professor Irissa T'vara being rather noisily intimate in the cargo bay of the _Normandy_ after Therum. He guessed Humans couldn't smell that kind of thing like Krogan and Turians could. No matter.

While the Thorian talked and Shepard played for time, the big game hunter went for his prey, studying everything before coming up with a plan of action.

Wrex smiled as he looked at the largest living thing he had ever seen (which was saying something), ready to add that to the tally of strange and unnatural things he had hunted and killed in his long centuries of life.

 _This is going to be good_ , the Krogan thought to himself as he pulled out his Nakmor Arms' M-490 Firestorm Plasmathrower, fondling the flame-spewing weapon with great relish at the thought of what was to come.

" _We have a Wrex."_

It was time.

With a bestial roar, Urdnot Wrex leapt into the fray. Literally.

He burst through the strange forest of fungal growth to plow through half-a-dozen of those small green humanoid things that had been standing around waiting, seemingly unaware of his presence behind them, sifting through the odd forest, using stalks to mask his presence before bursting through with a charge, lowering his headplate slightly downward as he kept his eyes up to crush through a thick part of the enemy. The bony crest of his headplate and his thick shoulders collided with several, knocking over the light bodies with pathetic ease as he bowled over some more before he reached the clearing a few seconds later, having knocked over at least two dozen with his massive body and five hundred kilogram weight. He pivoted as he activated his Firestorm, opening up the plasmathrower as he faced the little green men, gouts of superhot sticky plasma gushing forth in a stream of intense white heat, coating dozens of the little weak buggers as he did a quick sweep with the M-490, laughing as he did so. The little plant people quickly turned to panicking torches, running every which way as they were set on fire.

It was a good start, but that was just a taste of what was to come.

The Krogan pivoted once more as he crouched for a moment, activating his Soulfire to lighten his mass before leaping up and forward as hard as he could, going a good thirty meters in the air as he launched himself towards the Thorian. His armored meaty paws reached forward to catch himself as his three-fingered hands dug into the squishy skin of the gigantic sphere plant creature, ignoring the sounds of gunfire and explosions as the rest of TEAM LION continued to provide the distraction and means to keep him focused on the true target; the Thorian. Let the mortals deal with the peons.

He had big game to kill.

Wrex began to climb up, ascending the overhanging curve by digging his heads into the flesh of the plant and making his ascent, the curve slightly backwards with his hump facing the ground instead of the sky. That didn't bother him much; he'd easily survive a thirty meter fall, even without the Soulfire. But it would waste valuable time and the glory of the kill, and that simply wouldn't do. Wrex climbed, ignoring the syrupy fluids that coated his armored fingers like sappy blood, ignoring the battle that seemed to rage as intensely as ever when being led by Shepard. Shepard, ah… she always did bring the best violence.

And she had rightfully given him the target he deserved; the biggest one.

Wrex climbed, feeling the pleasant ache in his arms from the act, making the upcoming kill all the sweeter. It wasn't worthy if it wasn't a fight, if he didn't out-smart it, used a good deal of his skills, or simply out-toughed it. Climbing to a kill was a good chore, and Wrex reached the centerline of the creature where the slope was forward. The Krogan reared back on his arms and pushed off with his legs, launching himself several meters forward to reach his target, scampering up on all four limbs as the slope got progressively gentler until he was able to climb it with just his feet a minute or so later. He was chuckling to himself as he pulled out his Firestorm, happy to see he still had most of a kilogram of plasmic fuel left in its tank, with another two in reserve. Oh, the story that this kill would make! Whelps would listen with glee and females with thoughts of a good night of breeding with him in his honor. There was nothing like celebrating a good kill like a night on a couch with a female looking to mate.

Wrex reached the four roots that connected the Thorian to the cavern's ceiling, each of them twice as thick as he was. Eyeing the target with glee, he raised his M-490 Firestorm and thought of a good quote. It wouldn't do not to let the target know it was about to die gruesomely.

"Somebody called for an exterminator?"

And Wrex lit up his Firestorm and began to laugh.

* * *

Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni had her own block of instructions, too.

" _Liara,"_ The Human Captain had addressed her as she had the others during their so-called 'fiver' (Humans and their odd idioms!) where the Council Agent talked to each person personally and on a private channel. Considering that the Thoi'han could 'gain' intelligence by infecting a sapient with its spores, this was a move to avoid losing any planning by giving blocks of instructions without accidentally revealing too much if one or more of TEAM LION were infected. Jane Shepard was a Special Forces warrior of her kind, trained to think in such ways and find avenues to exploit. Which they would be needing for the ancient horror. _"How this will go down is likely guesswork, but I have an idea. We'd be dead if it didn't want something we have, so it's leading us right into a trap. My job is to spring ours first, and I need your help with that."_ Liara nodded, indicating that she would. _"Good. Anything that has a gun? You fuck it up Biotically. Ignore the green monster people; that's why we've got shooters. But you're the most powerful Biotic we've got, and the only way to stop an Asari or a Biotic is to get the first hit, close in, or flood them with pain. When I give the signal, you eliminate anything with range weaponry, starting with the heaviest weapons and working your way down."_

" _This Thoi'han may have Sara in its clutches."_ Liara pointed out quietly, already assuming that all of TEAM LION left in Hadley's Hope had been infected. _"If it controls her, it controls her Biotics, too."_

" _Leave Sara to me."_ The N7 replied, her tone… soft, sad. The Protheantologist did not need to be told of the near-sisterly relationship that the Lion and the Angel had with one another. She was actually aware of it on Therum during the few conversations that the Doctor had with the Corpsman days before the Geth attacked Dig Site Alpha. It was quite obvious what Shepard had in mind; she wished to rescue the woman she saw as a sister. Liara knew that would imply to everyone as well, the members of TEAM LION and the colonists and Marines, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the Lion took this attack personally. The Asarkin did not blame the Human one little bit.

It was obvious when the Thorian began talking through Sara Ryder what Jane would like for the Maiden to do once Liara saw how the enemy was splayed out, with the green humanoid-like creatures keeping to a perimeter and the five members of TEAM LION right up front. It did not take her long to formulate her own plan; as soon as the signal was given, Liara knew what she had to do and how to do it. Asari were, after all, the most powerful Biotics in the galaxy, and the only ones who were near them in strength and endurance were natural-born Krogan Battlemasters and AntiQuarians. Captain Shepard had given the Doctor plenty of time not only to formulate a plan of how she would be able to accomplish her task, but to build up residual bioelectrical energy within her to ready herself for attack.

It was not as if she could _just_ fling about Biotics as if it were magic, after all.

Liara saw her targets, Lieutenant Vega, Marshal Collins, Agent Zevin, and Sergeant Williams, and knew what she would do. She let her training take over, Biotic classes from both her tutelage on Thessia and the Presidium Academy of Education giving her a repertoire of defensive techniques and a variety of non-lethal acts in which to choose from. What she wanted to do would be a difficult exercise in strength and control; she wanted to hamper them without hurting them overtly, halting their progress without injuring them significantly. The level of control had to quite precise, but thankfully Liara was quite adapt at precise control thanks to her years of training as well as that of a Protheantologist. She was, after all, use to dealing with fragile artifacts that were embedded in ruins that could potentially collapse or destroy an artifact if shifted incorrectly. The field she had in mind would be of an unusual shape, but once activated, she could hold it for a good length of time with little worries as long as she was allowed to concentrate.

" **All you need to do is accept."**

Liara knew it was almost that time.

The Asarikin Maiden gathered the bioelectric energy that coursed through her body, generated in the naturally-occurring Eezo nodes that existed along her spine and her endocrine system, the tingling sensation running up her spine as the build-up ran through her nervous system, connecting to the Armali Councils' Tsunami Biotic Amplification Device that she wore just under her lowest crest _likku_ , increasing the level of energy build-up within her. Her hands were ready as she thought of he motions that were necessary, the physical pantomimes that linked with what she wished to create, to control the use of her Biotics into an effective tool instead of something dangerous and uncontrollable. Decades of practice with her Biotics between schooling and digs had her pick an act that would work well in this situation; maximum effectiveness with as little injury as possible. She had the time to build up the necessary bioelectrical charge, five seconds of concentration having her Tsunami Biotic Amp quite hot with its capacitance, indicating that it was ready to deliver the charge directed by her arm movement, hand movement, and even finger movement. An incorrect invocation, even the slightest misalignment of her fingers, and the gesture would ruin what she had in mind and could cause any number of things; a fizzle, a uncontrolled act, or even sending what she wished into an incorrect direction. What non-Biotics did not know that the act in itself was an art form, as graceful as dance and as precise as mathematics. Many of the younger species went for simpler methods for expediency, developing lesser Biotic acts that were generally weak or less-effective. But for an Asari, with their log lives, millennium of discovery and continuous tutelage to achieve perfection so as to train younger generations more precise forms? There was simply no better Biotics in the galaxy.

" _We have a Wrex."_

It was time. Liara could feel it in her _likku_.

The Maiden was quick yet precise with her form, performing _Gentle Waves-like-Thundering Clouds_ , her left arm making a sweeping motion with her fingers splayed out as wide as the could go as her arm traveled in a full circle, maximizing the full rotation of her shoulder before launching her left and right hand forward into a pushing motion, her right hand held in a manner that indicated to hold downward. A wave of biokinetic force swept forward rapidly as her body ionized with the high currents of bioelectrical power, turning the very air around her into a corona of blue as she sent the force towards her targets into a smear field that would encompass a small air while it lobbed into the air in a graceful arc to land where she wished it to; a testament of her training and skill that it was well-formed and landed in the correct location thanks to her training and practice. The shimmering glob of power linked to her through her hand movements and a slight tether of ionized energy connecting through the air had the Protheantologist know that her strike would be as successful as she predicted as the field struck the four figures standing behind Sara Elaine Ryder, Liara sweeping her hands out and down as she increased gravity significantly.

Lieutenant James Vega, Marshal Samantha Collins, Sergeant Ashley Williams, and Agent Zevin Raeka all bodily fell to the ground as the Asari Biotically pressed them to the ground and held them there.

And the green-growth creatures began to charge.

* * *

Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian, and Niki'Raan nar Tombay all had the same instructions though they didn't know that their personal orders were in tangent with others; _wreck havoc upon my signal._ Vasquez knew that she was the sole heavy gunner as soon as Urdnot Wrex leapt up in the air like something in between a howler monkey and a frog as she activated her Devlon Industries' M56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, sweeping the weapon to the left flank of her position where a large majority of the weird green plant-people things were standing, a fair amount of them on fire thanks to the Krogans' flamethrower and likely his own orders. Jeanette pivoted and swept her weapon in a tight arc, fanning the trigger of her machine gun to maximize the volume of fire while trying to keep the heatsinks' capacity as low as possible to maximize her length of assault before having to cool down her weapon for ten seconds. Five-to-seven round bursts were absolutely shredding the monstrosities as they began to charge forward as Vas swept left-and-right, right-and-left, bringing down the creepy things quickly as what appeared to be _hundreds_ poured forward. A quick detonation in the oncoming crush had her see that 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was engaging the tide with his Milkor SuperSix M32 Multi-Purpose Munitions Launcher, a heavy spray of shrapnel perforating an easy dozen or so of the sprinting creatures as the both of them continued to fire side-by-side while Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach took to the other side with his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, suppressing any flanking assaults.

Niki'Raan had unholstered her cousins' Rannoch Industries' Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emissions Shotgun, the EME weapon absolutely devastating to crowds and hallways, a weapon designed to kill Geth. Niki saw that it worked quite well on those… _ugh! PLANTS!_ Walking plants, at that, the arcs of ionized energy lashing out like so many tongues of electricity amongst the oncoming crowd, sending dozens down as the Quarian fired right through the Universal Power Cell from beginning to end without letting go of the trigger. Dozen fell down smoldering as the blue-clad Quarian female Rifleman ejected the Power Cell from the shotgun as Seaman Monica Negulesco stepped up next to her with her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle and began suppressing the hordes of (ugh!) plant creatures in a steady rhythm while Private First Class Holland Hoss and Louis Broussard began engaging with their Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifles, covering for the Pilgrim and her devastating weapon as she exchanged the used Power Cell for a fresh one, having learned her lesson on Therum to keep several small deployment packs upon her EnviroSuit for additional Power Cells. She had recharged them all in the General Dynamics' M35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle after expending quite a few of them in the fight in the ExoGeni Headquarters against the Geth, and she had liberated several Cells from Tali'Zorah nar Reyya when her cousin had been MEDEVAC back to the SSV _Normandy_ for medical intervention. A fresh UPC was loaded into the shotgun as Niki raised the weapon and activated the Electromagnetic Emissions weapon, keeping a count of how many Cells she had left.

She hoped that thirteen would be enough.

Detective Garrus Vakarian walked forward with his ERCS Rapid Response-issued M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle in his talons, accurate three-round bursts being delivered one atop another in devastating effectiveness as the former Blackwatch soldier proved while the Hierarchy had the best military in the galaxy, and the Blackwatch the best special forces combatants on top of even that illustrious claim. There was no fear or hesitation in his motion or aim as burst after burst took out a creature with fast, lethal precision. The Rapid Response Unit Officer strode forward ahead of the protective position that the group was forming around Doctor Liara T'soni, the groups' only true naturally-born Biotic weighing down four members of their own team and the only range-capable personnel that the Thorian had in its grasp save for Petty Officer Sara Ryder. Garrus stalked forward with a plan in mind as he pivoted and engaged targets in rapid time, each burst lethal, the shots taking a Thorian-controlled creature in the skull again and again and again. He moved forward knowing what needed to be done as he went towards where the four members of TEAM LION were being detained Biotically by Doctor T'soni, preventing their group from having to engage and kill their friends. He didn't want to end their lives, but they needed T'soni's Biotics if they wished to stand a chance against the hundreds of _pratum_ -colored creatures. He queued up his Cipritine Armory's Nordash OmniTool while mag-locking his Vindicator to his armored chest carapace while drawing his Special Crimes Unit-issued ERCS M-3 Predator Auto Pistol with his left claws, engaging the rushing combatants while toggling an App selection that linked with his Rapid Response-issued Armax Arsenal Predator H-Series Heavy Armor, his minifacturing unit fabricating a specialized law enforcement munition. He went through the heat sink of his Predator quickly as he holstered it to his left thigh while unlocking his cooled Vindicator from his chest with his right claws, engaging hostiles one-handedly while plucking the grenade he had just fabricated from its minifacturing pouch. He toggled the activation button with his left thumb talon while putting a three-round burst into a nearby green humanoid and lobbed the grenade towards the four detained members of TEAM LION as he clutched at his Vindicator properly and began methodically bringing down targets, pivoting and moving to maximize his proficiency as he was taught to do in the Blackwatch as he heard his grenade explode.

Its official name was the 'Citizen Detainment Munition'. Everyone in C-SEC just called it 'the gooey bomb'.

It was a device manufactured from PlastiGel and OmniGel, a slurry of tacky semi-liquid substance that expanded upon detonation into a putty-like glaze that would harden after a second or two exposure to any normal atmosphere, coating everything in a five meter area. It was useful for arrests and apprehensions without harming any CitCitz, whether offenders or not, and allowed a situation to be defused without any calls of C-SEC brutality being taken seriously. The munition went off and coated Vega, Collins, Williams, and Zevin with its tacky excrement before solidifying into a hardened shell that immobilized. Garrus did a quick look to see if it had covered the four members properly enough to where T'soni could lift her Biotic field, and was pleased with what he saw. He hadn't missed.

He never missed.

Seaman Monica Negulesco sweated despite the environmental seal and temperature regulation inside her Kassa Fabrications' HyperGuardian Medium Expeditionary Armor, putting burst after burst from her Mattock Auto Rifle into the charging green plant creatures as they approached, the tide barely held back as they reached within meters of the position that had basically converged around Doctor Liara T'soni, the so-called 'pivot point' in a defense. The creepy monsters were bull-rushing forward, scary as all despite not being armed with any firearms, threatening to overrun them with bodies. The Mattocks' heatsink went overheat as Monica pulled out her Kassa Fabrications' M-6 Carnifax Magnum Pistol, delivering six shots quickly with both hands on the pistol to steady her aim while firing as fast and as accurately as she could. She wasn't as fast at transitioning weapon or aiming-and-firing as some of the others, but she had learned quickly during the assault on the ExoGeni Headquarters to keep track of rounds fired and how to operate her weapons without physically looking at them even for the briefest of moments, muscle memory and experience guiding her hands as she slapped the spent Carnifax back on her left hip and drew her Kassa Fabrications' M-12 Locust Submachine Gun, unleashing a torrent of gunfire into the coming crowd as she sweated, fear and panic building up in her at the sight of hundreds coming towards them, her breath coming in all too fast as the Locust went through its heatsink. Negulesco holstered the weapon on her left thigh as she pulled out her Mattock and began firing again, her heart thrumming as fear made her want to go faster to keep the danger away.

1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko attached the Milkor SuperSix MPML on his back as he pulled out his Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle, the beefier version of the standard M7 Lancer in his hands as the Explosive Ordinance Disposal Officer began lacing fire upon flankers as Corporal Jeanette Vasquez continued to pour her murderous torrent of fire from her M56 Marshal. He had expended his entire clip of anti-personnel grenades when the Marine Gunner cooled down her medium machine gun, the kill grenades devastating the horde of leafy creatures as Kaidan shot all six in ten seconds to maximize their effectiveness and covering for the rest as hails of shrapnel tore through mossy flesh and cut bodies into ribbons. Unfortunately, his Kassa Fabrications Inferno Heavy Armors' minifacturing suite took a few seconds to make a grenade, and he had already gone through his pre-made ordinance quickly enough targeting the Thorian-spawned monstrosities. Between Vasquez, himself, and Ballsack, they were able to keep from being overrun, but the hordes kept coming relentlessly. Like Husks.

Kaidan knew it would only be a matter of time.

" _Fire in the hole!"_

Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard was engaging the oncoming enemy with his Mercier-Taglia Corporations' MT-35 Broadsword Combat Shotgun, having the select-fire position to single as he put heavy packets of shaved metal through the tight choke algorithm of the weapons' software suite to make the cone of flechettes smaller and thus more lethal. Each shot put a green creepy humanoid on its back with massive amounts of physical trauma done to each individual torso as he went through all seven shots through the weapons generous heat sink before moving back to his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, sweeping his rounds at head level to provide as much lethality as possible. He overheard Niki'Raan's declaration that indicated that she would be using a grenade, and saw something cylindrical flung out with her left hand towards the rushing mob before it exploded a mere two seconds later, not even enough time for it to fall to the ground. Much to his surprise, it wasn't an actual anti-personnel 'kill' grenade; instead, the grenade bloomed into a spreading cascade of fire that splashed over everything in a five meter area, setting dozens and dozens of the Thorian-spawn on fire further back from the front line. The fire wasn't the typical yellow/orange combination, either; it instead showered blue/white, and he had been around enough aircars and shuttles to know that the fuel was Hydrogen Slush instead of a normal accelerant like Mezoline or Herioline. God knew where the Marine Rifleman had gotten the fuel or the capsule to fabricate was was practically a Fuel-Air-Explosive, but she must have fabricated it on the _Normandy_ before going to Feros. The fire burned hot as hell as creepers practically melted under the wilting flames in seconds, dropping dozens of them immediately as writhing torches of panicking limbs thrashed upon the ground, threatening to set their nearby fellows on fire as the ground around the area-of-effect munition continued to burn at near-magnesium levels.

Despite Raan obliterating through the ranks with her cousins' Reegar Shotgun, the explosively burning grenade, and even his, Hoss's, and Nugee's contribution, the tide of monsters still kept coming strong, without faltering. Bra switched from Karseus to Broadsword to let the assault rifle cool down as he began to engage targets once more, holding the line. The coming plant people just kept coming like the Husks did on the ACV _Horizon_ , mindless and relentless. One would fall, and another would immediately take its place, clamoring over those who had fallen in the single-minded pursuit of reaching TEAM LION. There was no tactics or thought to them, which Bra should have been grateful, but facing an absolute horde of enemies that felt no fear or compunction towards losses awoken a base primal fear within the Marine, that fear of the dark things that the unknown could contain, something so alien that the Human mind couldn't comprehend it. Instead of giving into that fear, Louis used it to make his shots better, his hands faster, her resolution firmer. His friends were here and he wouldn't abandon them. Not even at the bloody end.

Louis switched to his assault rifle and let the R36 make its opinion known.

Doctor Liara T'soni saw that Detective Garrus Vakarian had deployed some sort of containment munition upon four of the members of TEAM LION that she had apprehended with her Biotics, seeing them coated in some sort of sticky resin that kept them from participating. Knowing that the objective that she had been given was now complete, the Protheantologist began to contribute in a way she never had before; she was going to fight. For nearly a month, Liara had been practicing and training herself to reach at least a comfortable level of prowess martial-wise to the respect of the other members of TEAM LION, to gain the comforting knowledge that she could act in a time of need no matter the situation. Sadly, having more than three weeks of practice might have improved her basic skills, but she wouldn't gain nearly as much tactical finesse as some of the other member of TEAM LION unless she put for both the same devotion _as well as_ the amount of time. Captain Shepard and Detective Vakarian had years (and even decades) of experience, and Urdnot Wrex centuries. Even the Human Marines had six months worth of experience being Marines, not to mention their basic instruction phase that they called 'boot camp' to teach them how to work on both an individual level and a small unit level. Liara had none of these skills when she first boarded the SSV _Normandy_ save for the basic competency skills with a pistol, in which she was at least a fair shot at a range when no one was _shooting back_. Therum had quickly disillusioned her of the thought of some miraculous knowledge or talent for war that she did not possess.

What she did possess, however, was Biotics. In that, she could take down any member of TEAM LION single-handedly if applied properly.

Raising her hands, the Asari Maiden began to move, dancing the forms that would activate her Biotics in a way that drove the bioelectrical charge that ran through the Eezo nodes in her body and through the Biotic Amplification Device that she wore, shaping the energy and sending out as she wished it to be delivered through body and hand pantomimes studied vigorously at the Presidium Academy of Education and even the Advance School of Armali where she went to as a Youngling. Though she did not possess the forms that would turn her Biotics into flesh-rendering or bone-snapping talents outright, a clever use or a combination of forms could easily kill a sapient if one were to lift one several dozen meters in the air and let go, or thrown just over an overhang and left for the opponent to fall to their death. Even a singularity created in the same space as a living being could be utterly devastating to the person in question, a standard warning when taught defensive techniques at standard Biotics Tutelage. Liara built up her bioelectric energy and began to dance, grace and finesse under fire as a lift field was directed at a mob of running green-fleshed humanoids, several tumbling up into the air as Liara spun and sent a small smear of force in the opposite direction, knocking back a group with a wave of force. The others of TEAM LION harassed and suppressed with weapons fire to keep the enemy at bay in a desperate bid of survival as the Maiden moved amongst them, the blue shadow of unseen force that struck like a knight in chess, over and around others. She kept up the defensive techniques with quick precision and half-measures, continuously building up her charge without depleting everything in reserve as one form flowed into another, her Biotics flowing through her and into the battlefield as the spawn of the Thoi'han came under her Biotic assaults. Where as the others of TEAM LION shot at their foes, holding them back with discipline and gunfire, it was the Asari dancing amongst the middle of them that made her efforts known, distorting gravity in a myriad amount of ways to slow them down, lift them up, push them back, or send them crashing to the ground.

The Protheantologist danced her forms in a way that would have made her teachers and species proud, educating the Thorian on why the Asari believed themselves to be the most advanced species in the modern era. A graceful swoop that involved the entire body had a singularity appear over the heads of a cluster of creeper-spawn, pulling and tugging over a dozen upwards as the vortex of gravity dragged everything inward towards the microevent, lifting many and slowing even more down in a large radii, where the form move into the next, a spinning of the hands and the pivoting of the body where an invocation of hands and fingers lashed out with an event that appeared in the ground, yanking everything downward, two hands' worth of plant-covered sapients brought to the floor of the cavern in a bone-jarring manner. In the many training sessions and few deployments that Doctor T'soni had been in with TEAM LION, she had shown herself to be only a little better than an average rifleman, lacking the experience and endurance one gained from years of effort and dedication. In this though, it was she that proved herself as the others defended her, the eight remaining members of TEAM LION standing in a semi-circle and pouring their expertise into defending their position, bolstered by their lone Asari warrioress. It would have been a sight known to Urdnot Wrex and any Republican Military Leader, who had fought Asari units before, a small ring of Sister Commandos bristling with weaponry and Biotically-charged barriers around a singular Sister, devastating the enemy with the fury of the Goddess born within them by dancing under the protection of her Sisters.

TEAM LION defended, and Liara danced, the enemy held back by gunfire and yet slowly conquered by the one member they could not reach; a tactic utilized by the Asari since the War of Queens ten thousand years prior. Weapon heatsinks were exposed and cooled as hands transitioned from one weapon to the next, ammo blocks replaced as they were spent, triggers squeezed as aim was acquired, reticles on the various sights and scopes placed at effective locations as rounds were sent to shred and tear into their plant-like victims as the cavern was filled with the cacophony of war, that eternal grind of violence and in which death was the only peace known. Electrical arcs danced amongst the creepers while the chainsaw-like chatter of a Marshal whined through the din, assault rifles and battle rifles firing in the chatter that spoke only the end while being switched out for pistols, shotguns, and submachine guns when heatsinks glowed with rapped heat and were needed to be cooled. In this, TEAM LION proved itself devastating as they had several times before, an eclectic group of warriors and soldiers brought together by duty or choice, yet working together with such cohesion as strengths were bolstered and weaknesses covered. They achieved a proficiency crewed by so many different species one normally only saw amongst private military groups and mercenaries, most species' military only hosting their own kind. The ground of the cavern floor was slick and littered with the oozing fluids and pieces of the creepers as TEAM LION pushed them back, a small island of death in which approach was impossible.

And still hundred of Thorian creepers came, relentless and unerring.

* * *

When Urdnot Wrex barreled into the mass of moss-covered creatures with his headplate lowered, Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) went into action, using the Krogan big game hunter as a very effective distraction.

"Cortana! Put everything into the Speedware!" Jannie told her updated and uploaded HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor software management suite that she had integrated into her Rig Suit-lookalike SPECTRE Armor, increasing the power management levels of the servos and actuators of her armor to boost her movement and strength at the highest level of one-hundred and fifty percent to allow her to rush faster and overpower something with the element of surprise. Before the words left her mouth, she was already sprinting forward as the leg actuators in her armor boosted her sprint speed by fifty percent to thirteen meters per second instead of her normal eight plus as the N7 bull-rushed straight towards the one thing that mattered in this whole mess.

Sara Elaine Ryder; the Thorian's so-called 'Queen of Blades', and her best friend.

Jannie moved forward into a shoot, dipping down to wrap her around behind Not-Sara's legs where her knees naturally bent and pulled up and towards her while thrusting her right shoulder into Ryders' solar plex. The Jiu-Jitsu tackle had Jannie slamming Sara straight onto the ground, the younger woman landing on her back with a hearty _oof!_ as Shepard gained the mount, getting Sara's torso in between her thighs and tucking her feet behind her legs for positional control and balance. She got her knees just under the younger woman's armpits as she pressed her hips right near where Sara's sternum was located while sitting straight up, achieving the high-mount. The N7 wanted to end this fight as quickly as possible with as little injury as possible to Sara's physical body, so she moved into the low-mount to put Sara into an Ezekiel Choke by slipping her left arm behind Sara's neck and putting her shoulder into her throat while using her left arm as a lever to apply pressure.

Jannie wasn't expecting a double knife-hand strike to the sides of her throat.

The Council Agent coughed and choked for a brief moment at the same time as she lost her grip, shoved upward as her mind reeled from the double blood-strike that instantly but temporarily stopped the blood flow in both her carotid artery and jugular vein, causing a less-than-a-second blackout and panic attack as she was pushed up with a savage double palm-strike to her rotator cuffs before another palm strike delivered by Not-Sara's right hand struck her right under her helmeted chin, snapping her head back. Jannie lost her balance and focus as she tipped backwards slightly, her momentum allowing Sara to sit up and reverse their positions, getting Shepard's back onto the ground. Jannie kept Sara in the Closed Guard position, locking her feet behind Not-Sara's back to keep the younger woman from taking a more advantageous position as the Navy Corpsman stood up and leaned forward, practically folding Jannie in half as Sara's infected face loomed closer, her hands reaching out towards the N7's neck. The Captain grabbed Sara's left arm and shoved it to the right of her own head, half-twisting Sara's body and befuddled any advantage she might get by wrapping her right arm around Sara's left, locking it up. Jannie grunted as Sara's right hand went to her helmet and shoved it to the left, forcing Jannie to lose sight of her assailant. It was a disadvantage, but she could still feel Not-Sara trying to get out of her Closed Guard and free her left arm.

" **Foolish mortal."** Not-Sara spoke, strain and viciousness in her tone as she did so. **"You and your meat will die here, and we shall consume their bodies to make more of our spawn."** Sara hit something along Jannie's neck, and it deactivated her helmet, causing the armor around her head to retract back to the gorget and backpiece of her SPECTRE Armor as Sara's armored hand pressed Jannie's left half of her face into the cavern floor. The N7 growled in pain as she felt bedrock scraping against her cheek and by her eye as she grasped Sara's right wrist with her left hand and pushed it upwards, getting some space between them as Shepard unhooked her right leg from behind Sara's back, twisting her hips to the left to slip her foot under the younger womans' left arm and over her head as she slammed Sara into the ground face-first, grabbing her left arm and putting pressure on it by twisting it where the elbow met her own armored thigh and bent it slightly in the opposite direction in an arm bar. The Corpsman's distorted voice screamed out in frustration and a little bit of pain as she struggled under Jannie's grip while the N7 locked her feet together and isolated Sara's left arm in between her shins, controlling her friends' body to keep it face-down in the ground, unable to escape.

"Yeah, your master plans' getting its ass kicked by a few measly mortals." Shepard quipped as she held Sara's hand palm up, contorting it in a way where it was extremely difficult to get ones' arm loose even from an amateur wrestler or practitioner of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. And the N7 was far from being an amateur. She did a quick look around to see how the other fights were going, seeing Vega, Collins, Williams, and Zevin plastered in some kind of solidified goo that kept them apprehended (she suspected it was Garrus' doing), and the rest of TEAM LION battling the Thorian-spawn that were seemingly coming out of the woodworks, dozens and dozens of shots being fired inside the cavern in a final protective line to ensure maximum carnage and potential survival. "I've got an offer for you, _plant_. Give me back my friends and I won't cook your ass like it's a potato." Jannie snarled as the infected face of Sara looked at her own, hate and malice in those distorted features as the N7's eye was caught by something with Sara's left hand. _It's shimmering_ , Jannie realized.

 _Oh fuck._

Shepard was bodily tossed up, over, and off of Sara as her mass was reduced significantly by the younger womans' Biotics.

The N7 landed in a combat roll with her pivoting and ending up in a sprinters' crouch as she looked to see Not-Sara getting to her feet, both hands distorted like mirages as the Thorian took full control of the younger woman's Biotic abilities. Jannie briefly wondered if the plant had access to _all_ the skills that Sara could do with her Biotics, or merely manipulate a few acts. If it knew what the others knew, it wouldn't necessarily be that effective, since the Thorian had completely admitted that only Ryder had Biotic capabilities amongst those in Hadley's Hope. And Ryder wasn't as nearly as strong or as proficient as her twin brother Scott Michael Ryder, who had practiced with his Biotics in the Amateur BiotiBall League on the Cit with the same zeal and dedication that Sara showed with her education and training to be a CitEMS Paramedic. While inherently powerful for a Human Biotic, Sara lacked the finesse, practice, training, and experience to make herself truly dangerous, what most people thought about when thinking of Biotically-capable beings such as Asari, Turian Cabalists, Salarian Transcendents, Batarian Justifiers, or Human Adepts. At best, Sara could make a fight _very_ difficult, but she wouldn't be able to kill Jannie immediately with some of the scarier abilities that a Biotic learned through training and practice from militarily-oriented Biotic schools.

Still, this was going to suck.

Jannie went on the offensive, charging her Speedware program to enhance her land speed and reflexes to give her the edge as Sara began to move, already invoking her intrinsic Biotic abilities as the N7 closed the distance between herself and her best friend, knowing that any kind of range would have her lose. The younger woman performed whatever maneuver to cast off her ability as Shepard collided with the Corpsman, Captain and Petty Officer bodily crashing as the N7 felt her body getting significantly heavier, her mass increasing from whatever Sara had done. Her SPECTRE Armors' Threat Management software noted the rapidly-increasing mass as it activated its Physics Threshold Deterrence Program to combat the effect as Jannie's' muscles and bones screamed in protest as she felt far heavier than she should, feeling as if someone had dumped four times her bodyweight on every part of her as the servos and actuators of her Armor drew more power from her Armors' power supply to support the extra mass as the N7 grappled with the Navy Corpsman, the redhead twisting her body as she moved. Jannie put her right shoulder right into Sara's chest as she pivoted and turned, bring her right arm around and behind Sara's head as she clasped the back of the younger woman's neck, putting Ryder's chin against her shoulder as Shepard faced away from Sara and immediately dropped to her knees in a flashy wrestling move known as 'the stunner'. The impact rocked Sara hard, the younger woman grunting as her head was snapped upward in a potential knock-out strike as Jannie continued to hold Sara's head and bent forward fast and hard to perform a semi-unorthodox Judo throw to bodily land her best friend right in front of her by flipping Ryder over her shoulder and planting the Corpsman both in front of her and facing away from her. The SPECTREs' Second landed with a noisy crash as Jannie wrapped her left arm around Sara's neck and got her into a sleeper hold position, grabbing the inner bend of her right arm and cranking it by wrapping her right hand behind Sara's head to press her armored bicep and forearm into Sara's exposed neck for a blood choke. Not-Sara gagged and struggled against the maneuver, both of her hands grasping Shepard's left arm to pull it away and break the hold, the Corpsman's feet kicking out in panic.

"C'mon, kiddo…" Shepard whispered as she pressed herself as tightly against Ryder as she could, her breastplate grinding against Sara's backplate, her head next to Sara's as she pressed it forward with her own skull to make the choke work faster. "Go to sleep already. I don't want to have to hurt you."

" **Your kind… will die."** Not-Sara struggled to speak past the choke, her words gurgling and struggling to reach past Shepard's arm. **"If… not by… us… then the… Firebringers. We… can save… your species."**

"Yeah, you did such a good job of it for Hadley's Hope, fucker." Jannie replied softly, her head pressed against Sara's as a tear escaped one of her green eyes, hurting from the fact that _she_ was having to do this to Sara, even if it wasn't her; the last person Jannie would have ever wanted to ever bring pain to. "If we're going to lose? Then we're going to lose on our own accord." Not-Sara continued to struggle and choke, Ryders' body jerking and thrashing to escape the sleeper hold, but Shepard was relentless as she continued to keep the hold in place, forced to hurt someone she loved oh so dearly, someone closer to her than a sister. "You did something to those colonists, you took my friends, and you tried to make a monster out of _my_ Sara. You mess with me, and I let karma do its job.

"Mess with my family? I _become_ karma." Shepard rang out with finality as she twisted her left wrist slightly to activate her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool, the red-skinned OmniTool holographically coming to life as she slipped her right hand for a brief moment to toggle a notification before returning her hand to the back of Ryders' head. The order she had pre-sent before entering the cave had been finalized as the N7 closed her eyes, her right cheek pressed against Sara's left, remembering the first day that she had held this wonderful person in her hands for the first time, a tiny little baby with blue eyes wrapped in a blanket. _I'm your Auntie: I'll be here for you always_ , a nine-year old Jane Catherine Shepard had promised an hour-old Sara Elaine Ryder, the young redhead holding the newborn closely in her arms, looking down at the chubby cherubic face with awe. "I love you Sara. I always have, and I always will." Jane said to her best friend as the order she had sent was answered, the SSV _Normandy_ have been set in position for the past hour, the Stealth Frigate flying in geosynchronous orbit over Shepards' current position, the bow of the Frigate aimed towards the surface, its main cannon primed and ready. Shepard knew what was going to happen next, having a trump card and now having to use it. The _Normandy_ hovered over the skies of Feros as its one hundred and fifty meter cannon opened up with a kinetic strike, its main round sent crashing towards the planet at just over a percent of the speed of light, burning atmosphere as the depleted uranium round struck the surface several hundred meters above the caverns' roof. The interior shook violently as Shepard heard rock and dirt spill from the ceiling and walls of the cavern to cascade upon the ground as Not-Sara struggled in her arms.

"Mark? Again."

" **NO! NO!"** The Thorian choked out through Sara's mouth, desperate and pleading as her feet kicked out for purchase and escape even more, her hands trying to rip Jannie's arm from around her neck as if it would stop the inevitable. **"We are… immortal, meat! We… have survived eons!"** Shepard held on relentlessly as the cavern shook violently once more, the sound of earth cracking above her head as she hold onto Sara, thinking of that precious little baby in her young arms, of that little girl in pig tails who would run up to her for a hug, all smiles. She tried to squeeze her eyelids shut, to keep the tears from coming as she held onto her friend, trapping the monster and holding on to the woman as dirt and rock crashed onto the floor, breaking apart upon landing as some fell alarmingly close. **"We… can help you… survive, meat!"**

"Really fucking hate that name, y'know?" Jannie whispered as her mind flashed to precious memories, of a thirteen-year old Sara being there when Jannie graduated the Systems Alliance Military Academy, cheering her on, or when sixteen-year old Sara held her as Jannie cried when she walked in on her husband cheating on her with another woman. "Mark? Again." There was another thunderous boom from above, like the sound of a thousand thunderstrikes occurring at once as the cavern shook hard, the earth quaking above head as another kinetic impact struck the surface of Feros, no doubt obliterating the surface and creating a much deeper crater from the original two strikes. Jane was going to _kill_ this fucking ancient monstrosity, and her heart and soul wept, knowing that the act would likely take the lives of her friends and her best friend. _Oh Sara, I'm so_ fucking _sorry_ , Jannie held on, keeping the pressure of the chokehold on the Corpsman as her heart went to the young woman she held onto. "When you get to hell, _plant_ , tell the Protheans I said 'you're welcome'.

"Mark? Again."

The ceiling split open as another kinetic strike devastated Feros, splintering earth and rock as large chunks of earth tumbled from the ceiling, impacting the ground below. Not-Sara screamed in rage, defiance, and denial as groans of earth and rock continued to erupt from the roof of the cavern, the structural integrity of the natural cave failing as it began to enter into a cave-in state. Rocks clattered against the ground for several seconds as more were worked loose from their moorings to fall and shatter against the rocky ground as they pattered against the strange mushroom-like forest surrounding Species-37 and even the various creepy people controlled by the Thorian. Shepard saw the form of Urdnot Wrex descend from the gigantic testicle thing that loomed over everything, his speed of descent slowed by his Biotics as the Krogan landed with a surprising grace with his Korogish Graal Hunting Shotgun in his meaty three-fingered hands as the big game hunter moved towards Shepards' position, holding up a singular hand to erect a Biotic protective field over the downed forms of the infected members of TEAM LION as well as herself and Sara while he casually put a superheavy shot from his Thresher-hunting weapon into some plant-like humanoids, blasting several backwards.

There was a groan above, like that of a dying building ready to topple, of something being ripped from the very bones of the earth, of fate enacted. Jannie continued to hold Sara as she struggled and cried out in horror as there was a massive tearing noise far above as loose dirt and chinks of rock pattered against the swollen, bloated body of the Thorian, the gigantic testicle thing beginning to shift, listing slowly as its roots far above head began to lose its precious cargo to damage and gravity. This was it, Jannie knew as she leaned her face against Sara's and placed a gentle kiss against her infected cheek as Not-Sara screamed and struggled in a useless bid of last-ditch efforts. _Goodbye, Sara_ , Shepard thought to herself with a broken heart as she uttered the words that she knew she would forever hate herself for.

"Mark?

"Fire for effect."

* * *

Author's Notes: Not at all the Thorian fight you remembered, is it?

Fire For Effect - In Artillery/Indirect Fire, the term 'fire for effect' is a barrage of artillery/mortar fire in which all of the available artillery/mortar pieces fire at once at a specific location. Generally, you 'walk' rounds to a target by bracketing (this is, in fact, the duties of a Cavalry Scout [19D], a Forward Observer [13F, or a Fister], and a JTAC [what we generally called the Air Force Close Air Support Observers]). This is a more-or-less precise indirect fire barrage that means that everything within about a 100 or so meter area is going to have a really shitty, really short day (ie., you're going to die, explosively!).

"Somebody call for an exterminator?" Cpl. James Page, Terran Confederate Marine Corps 'Firebat', _StarCraft_. (James Page is the Firebat's voice actor)

Most stories have Biotics work like most works in fantasy does with magic; a few finger movements, a special word, a wave of something, and hooray fireball! I wanted to touch upon the D+D concept of magic; that a practitioner takes years to develop their abilities in a correct manner. I hate to say it, but yeah… like Harry Potter too, save without a wand. For the forms, I used T'ai Chi Ch'uan names and the idea to create that Biotics is a sort of martial art in order to unleash, so that 'using' Biotics would prevent the use of other weaponry by a singular person… which Mass Effect somewhat supports Canon-wise (can't shoot and Throw someone, and there are some arm motions involved). This also supports that Biotics up close is likely dangerous, which is why Sara wasn't flinging Creepers back in _The Siege Of Hadley's Hope, IV_. I also 'reversed' the cooldown; you have to build-up first instead of spamming something instantly. You do load your weapon first, after all.

I mention that Liara only knows 'defensive' techniques, which is pretty true to the first _Mass Effect_ game where Lift, Pull, Throw, Stasis, Barrier, and Singularity were some of the powers, and I think the only real 'offensive' ability was Warp (which honestly, molecular dis-cohesion is internal combustion, thus this ability will be known as Warpfire). Asari (and everyone else) do not come out of the womb knowing how to Reave, Slam, Warp, Lash, or any of the others. Asari schools teach simple stuff for self-defense (and to add to the fact that they are superior to everyone else, something I've touched upon in this story a couple of times with Sara's grousing about Asari in the Academy) but don't teach baby Asari Jedi how to do some of the more offensive/dangerous techniques. Hey, no one picks up a firearm for the first time being a crack-shot either, so the idea that training and practice (ahem, proper training) makes sense. I have a list of about 30+ powers and a decent idea of what they do and where one can learn them (like Asari at C-SEC have unique ability that's similar to the Crushing Prison spell from Dragon Age while Sisters of the Eclipse have their own unique ability called Ensnare that is a mixture of Lash and Stasis).

The move that Liara does is Wave Hands Like Clouds (Yúnshǒu) which is actually a four-step movement (Wave Hands Like Clouds, Cloud Hands, Cloud Built Hands, Wave Hands In Clouds). This is completely hand/arm movement, and is pretty recognizable in movies showing T'ai Chi; it looks like someone pushing their hands out, lifting their wrists while dropping their fingers and hands, and alternating a push/pull with the hands). This isn't what Liara does physically, but I'm kinda liking the idea that something like T'ai Chi (which promotes energy and balance) as an activation for Biotics. It beats flinging your arm about like a badly-pitched softball.

Now that I think of it, I kind of made Liara more like Aang from _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ or Korra from _The Legend of Korra_. Honestly, that's kind of what I have in mind, a sort of pseudo-martial art dance that gives out much more than physical force (hmmm, forcebending, perhaps?). Biotics, at the end of the day, is a gravitational ability (not necessarily telekinetics), using directional gravitational manipulation to create such acts.

I mention that Kaidan has a Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle, one of the many choices from the first _Mass Effect_ that was an improvement on the Lancer. The last time I mentioned this was back in _End Of Watch, IV_!

Bra carries a secondary weapon, the Mercier-Taglia Corporations' MT-35 Broadsword Combat Shotgun, which I stole from the Cerberus Daily News Wikia.

I was originally going to do a slobberknocker of a fight between Jannie and Sara, but opted for more of a BJJ/MMA fight with some (ahem) _professional_ wrestling moves. Yes, Jannie pulls a stunner on Sara. Ever been hit by one? Getting your chin drop-slammed into someone's shoulder is a nice way to seeing stars. I did my best to make these moves as real as possible with actual descriptions (I actually tell you what they are, how you do them, hand positions, etc) as when training and using these moves, this would be necessary to know like in all martial arts.

Forward unto next chapter!


	40. Master Of Puppets, V

" _Taris was once a magnificent planet-wide metropolis of towering skyscrapers. But that was a long time ago." - Carth Onasi_

 **The Hive, Subterranean Level, Hadley's Hope, Feros, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

Author's Note: The conclusion to the FEROS ARCs. This will be a bit long as I cover and conclude everything that happened from the BATTLE OF LAGRANGE POINT TWO, THE SIEGE OF HADLEY'S HOPE, and MASTER OF PUPPETS.

And, of course, TEAM LION and the SSV _Normandy_.

Check out the _KOTOR_ reference on top! Old-School!

Happy Halloween, All Hallow's Eve, Samhain, and _Diao de la Muerta_ for those celebrating the holidays.

* * *

Like the story from Chicken Little, the sky was falling.

The sounds of devastation erupted from overhead as death came from above, a concentrated strike of no less than four vessels firing their main cannons into a point designated by the SSV _Normandy_ as the Frigate-Class SSV _Langemarck_ , the Destroyer-Class SSV _Doss_ , the Cruiser-Class SSV _Timbuktu_ , and the Galaxy-Class SSV _NCC-1701 Enterprise_ all fired their main weapons into the breach that the _Normandy_ created, a growing crater in which the kinetic strikes drove the damage deeper, splitting open a portion of the surface of Feros into a rent that measured half-a-kilometer in radius and driving downward several hundred meters. The strikes occurred as fast as the vessels could maintain as a Lion called for their wrath, the woman who had saved the IV Fleet from total destruction getting the favor returned as Sailors manned their positions and struck with fury, those survivors of the IVY Fleet having come to call themselves the LION'S PRIDE after the battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros). To many of them, Humanity's First SPECTRE would forever be held in their minds as 'Commodore' Jane Catherine Shepard; the woman who snatched them from the very jaws of defeat and death only to lead them to victory and retribution. Despite the damages done to their vessels and the losses they had incurred, those Sailors held the line with pride as rounds of Depleted Uranium strike the earth of Feros apocalyptically, wedging the planet open to kill what was underneath. No less than four batteries were fired from the Naval Vessels, shots screaming in through the atmosphere, burning away any water vapor in the air as they speared towards the planet at greater than a percent of the speed of light, a microsecond beam of death imprinting upon anyone who could witness the totality of a planetary strike where the corona of the rounds' passing lasted much longer than the round itself.

 _The Finger Of God_ wasn't merely a saying, after all.

The earth cracked as stone was pulverized into sand, dirt turned to glass from the intensity of the heat, and the very air around it choked with ash and debris as a new-born volcano was created from the Naval Artillery, splintering the local area of Feros with the weight of death and destruction as the area was obliterated from the cascading shockwaves and microquakes occurring on the surface. If anything had been alive within a kilometer of the region, it would surely be dead now due to the environmental catastrophe caused by the normally-illegal act of firing a kinetic strike upon a Garden World, a colony, or within fifty kilometers of a settlement according to the Council of Law. Yet it was a Council Agent who had called in for the strike, that officer of jurisdiction known to be able to supersede law and regulation in order to act out with the Will of the Council; what made them so dangerous in the eyes of the galaxy. What would have been heavily-frowned upon if asked by any other SPECTRE was done so without question for the Lion of Elysium.

For their Commodore, the LION'S PRIDE would have done it three times over.

Sixteen devastating strike struck Feros with fury at the same spot, opening up the planet and letting more round penetrate deeper. The crater grew into a gash, and then in to a canyon. Still the rounds strike, deep and hard, as the planet was stabbed with velocity and devastation, a growing fissure of hell appearing on its surface. Millennium-old Prothean buildings swayed and trembled at the growing earthquakes as ash and soot began to plumb into the atmosphere, all the pulverized rock and dirt catapulted upward by the strikes causing a pillar of steam and ash to eject upward into the atmosphere, growing into a mushroom cloud. An hour later, the order had been given once more as every vessel above Feros delivered more strikes towards the location, pounding upon it with space-borne artillery as they continued to fire until the planet itself announced its defeat; a blast of pyrocumulous clouds and magma erupting from the breach as a volcano noisily announced its birth, blasting rock and debris for kilometers on out as a continuous cloud of steam and lava erupted from the crater, magma spewing from the fissure as the atmosphere grew darker and darker from all the ejecta and particlization. The cease-fire was given when the volcano erupted powerfully, the crust of Feros having been drilled to the point to where the mantle had forced its way up and out, obliterating the site with the fury of a planet and destroying everything within a fifteen kilometer radius over the next several days as lava seeped through new tubes and the titanic shockwave of the first volcanic eruption flattened the nearby colony of Hadley's Hope as if it had been made of straw. Earthquakes rocked the region pegging a seven in the Richter Scale, collapsing nearby Prothean structures after millennium struggling to survive their long-forgotten duties as where an ancient horror once stood was completely wiped from the face of the galaxy.

A Cruiser Captain of the LION'S PRIDE named the newest volcano of Feros _Jane's Wrath_ after the cessation of fire. The name stuck.

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST), held onto Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder as hell unleashed itself from up above. The entire cavern shook as she felt herself almost being knocked back from the force of the multiple kinetic strikes pulverizing the surface above where they were, threatening the Thorian with something she didn't doubt the Protheans used millennium ago to eradicate the species. Admist the rumblings of earth from above, the N7 heard the sickening sound of something organic being torn, like flesh ripping open. Her eyes looked upon the immense spherical creature known as Species 37 begin to list and sway, its overhead roots obviously losing to gravity as the ripping noise continued, even louder and greater. Sara struggled in her arms as Jannie held her tight, watching as the gigantic testicle monster emitted a loud _pop_ and began to fall, descending from its lofty purchase and striking the caverns' floor with a teeth-jarring impact, who knew how many megatons of monstrosity splattering against the floor. Ryder went limp in her arms as Shepard saw the green-covered humanoids all drop bonelessly to the floor, like puppets with their strings cut. The blistering torrent of gunfire ended with that as TEAM LION ceased firing, the threat seemingly over, at least temporarily as everyone took the opportunity to dispense the heat from their weapons and reload their ammo blocks just in case. Victory was apparent, but no one lived a long life assuming.

Jannie looked upon the plant-like monstrosity as it laid upon the ground, having fallen from its perch, its white fleshy appearance sickening to see as it began to 'bleed' out from hundreds of cracks and wounds on its plant-like body, no longer spherical as it listed to one side and slowly seemed to deflate as brackish ooze came from its cracked carapace. The smell of it was nauseating, but the N7 would see this thing dead with her own eyes for the crimes it had committed and wish to commit, and she wouldn't leave the job half-done.

"Team? Spread out and see if we can find any of the colonists." Shepard commanded, still holding Ryder's' limp form in her arms, absently stroking the face of her best friend with her armored hand. "Keep close, as we don't know if this thing is dead yet." She looked down to Sara's ruined face, her heart aching at the sight of the younger woman in her arms, as still as death. Jannie caressed her veiny cheek with a gentle thumb, feeling the ache of sorrow clutching at her heart, gripping it fiercely. The redhead felt hot wetness building up in her eyes as she held Sara in her arms, refusing to let go.

"Sara… please say something." Jannie whispered as she knelt on the ground, cradling the body of Sara Elaine Ryder, still remembering the first time she had ever done so when Sara had been but an hour-old newborn. "Don't do this to me, kiddo." Shepard tried to bite back the sob that escaped her but failed, the grief and pain welling up within her. Even as hard as she could be, being an elite warrior, an N7, there was no protection against this kind of pain. "I want to see you strive and succeed. I want to see you go to the Villa and get your stripes. I want to see you on your wedding day, as beautiful as can be. I want to be there when _you_ have your first child, and I want to hold them like I held you." Jannie's hand went to stroke back Sara's brunette hair, tears trailing down her cheeks and dripping downward. "I made a promise, Sara, the most important promise I've ever made my life when I was just a kid. I said I'd be there for you always, but that doesn't mean to make good that promise today. I want to see you gray, wrinkled, and bitching about how big your ass has gotten. I want all the good and bad out of life so that we can share it together, to be there for each other. You didn't want to bury me in Elysium, and I don't want to bury you here in this _fucking_ shithole. So you had best wake the fuck up, Doc, because I will break open Hell and rescue your ass if I've got to. I owe you a couple, after all."

And much to Jannie's' shocking surprise, Sara's eyes fluttered open.

"A-Aun…tie?" Her voice came, ruined and the ghost of its normal tone, but it was _her_ voice, not that of some fucking monstrosity. Blue eyes opened to look at her as Sara looked dazed, but Jannie saw that the green bloodshot lines in Sara's eyes were slowly fading and receding while the exaggerated green-tined veins in her face too slowly began to be erased. "Auntie?"

"I'm here, Sara, I'm here." Jannie's whole body was wracked with sobs as she clutched at her friend as tightly as she could, tears streaming down her face as Shepard pressed her cheek against Sara's forehead as she held her fiercely. _Oh thank you Lord, thankyouthankyouthankyou,_ the N7 thought as she sobbed out of stress and joy, holding Sara as she cried, her dread disappearing as she felt the younger womans' arms tentatively clutched her affectionately. "Detective! Doc! Check the others! Sara's coming to!" The Captain said, her words being transmitted over the SquadComm as Detective Garrus Vakarian, Seaman Monica Negulesco, Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, and Doctor Liara T'soni moved from their search towards their members who were apprehended by some sort of sticky bomb that the Rapid Response Officer had used to keep them down so that the Protheantologist could use her Biotics to defend TEAM LION. "Lieutenant? Any sight of the colonists or the Marines yet?"

" _Negative, ma'am."_ 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko replied over the communicator. _"All we found are these Thorian spawn creatures. No cocoons or anything else to suggest where they might be held."_ Jannie had been afraid of that. She had noted the numbers of the moss-covered humanoids and they had been horrifyingly close to the amount of persons inhabiting Hadley's Hope. She had a real sickening idea where those colonists and Marines had gone.

They were right at their feet.

"Auntie… w-where am I? Where are we?" Ryder asked, her voice slowly becoming more normal as Sara sat up slowly with a grunt, moving as if in pain as her blue eyes went around the cavern, looking up when the sound of cascading rock pelted off the collapsed form of the Thorian before them from the minor cave-in that evidently killed the creature. The green-tinged look that had crawled under the skin of her face faded away as her face went pale and she quickly turned her head and began vomiting some thick, sticky-looking dark green mucus upon the cavern floor, flipping over onto her hands and knees as she regurgitated whatever contents out of her. Shepard held her hair back as Ryder vomited a third time, coughing loudly after wards as a shaky hand wiped away at her nose and mouth, greenish slime coming away on her armored hand. The Corpsman regurgitated one more time, dry-heaving a few times afterwards, coughing out flecks of globby slime onto the ground as she sat up, her body shaking weakly from the act. The younger woman looked to her Auntie with somewhat horrified eyes at what she had spewed out, and then at what was around them, obviously starting to recognize that nothing was right with this scenario. The N7 saw Vakarian spraying something onto the captured members of TEAM LION to break down the solidified goop that restrained them so that it could be broken apart and the four members pulled up from the ground. Liara was collapsing Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams' helmet as she too sported the decaying signs of the Thorians' control fading away, green veins disappearing from view as the Colonial Soldier vomited the same sputum that Sara had. Doc Nugee was helping up Marshal Samantha Collins, Vasquez 2nd Lieutenant James Vega, and Vakarian Agent Zevin Raeka, each of them returning to normal as they were helped up, each of them throwing up whatever substance was in them; obviously the thing the Thorian used to control them, purging their bodies of the substance and effect. Her team, her friends, her family would be okay.

"Oh… oh God, what have I done?" Sara asked holding up shaking hands to look at them as tears began to run down her face. Jannie saw her look to the redhead with horrified eyes. "Auntie…? I… I…" _Oh God, she's remembering…_ Jannie did the only thing she could do; she held onto Sara as Ryder began to bawl. Her sobs distorted her words, but Shepard's heart broke when she heard the word _monster_ uttered several times. _No Sara, you're not a monster,_ Jannie whispered back, holding onto her friend tenderly as the Corpsman cried.

"Chad? Chad!" Sam got up on shaky legs, Nugee trying to help while also trying to get the Federal Marshal to relax as Collins weakly pushed away the hands to stumble forward, moving towards where the plant-line monstrosities laid upon the ground, still and motionless. " _CHAD!_ " The Butchers' tone was one of desperation as Jannie watched on, holding Sara while feeling her heart sink in her chest. "Nonono…" The Marshal picked a form that was lying on the ground, falling to her knees as the Level Two Council Agent sobbed, scooping up the moss-covered body in her arms and bringing it closer to her. Shepard saw how the body seemed so… rubbery, almost boneless. She wished she hadn't seen it begin to leak fluids from its skin, or that she hadn't seen the body slowly deflate. "No, Chad! Please…" The Marshal cried as she too held on to the Thorian-spawn as it began to slowly dissolve in her hands, sobbing as she held it close even while it began to seep in her very arms. "Please don't leave me, Chad… please…" The pleas from the Marshal of Therum went horrifyingly unanswered as the body in her arms began to turn into a more liquid-state, oozing away in the Butchers' grasp. "Chad… I'm so fucking _sorry_ …"

"Oh God…" Jannie realized what was going on, what was happening as she looked to the other plant-line sapient beings, seeing them dissolve slowly, deflating as puss-like ooze leaked from their bodies. Those were the colonists, those were the Marines.

Unlike TEAM LION, they weren't coming back.

Jannie saw James Vega sitting on the ground, hugging his own knees, the man's face one of agony as Jeanette held him from behind, comforting as best she could as the Marine Lieutenant's eyes looked to the plant creatures, his eyes all too knowing. Ashley was holding onto Liara, the Asarikin whispering something to the Colonial Soldier as Williams held onto the Protheantologist as if she were a life preserver in a hurricane, desperate and pleading. Raeka was being helped up by Garrus, and even the Not-Dalatrass gripped onto the Turian more-so than needed, her whole body quivering. There had been over a thousand souls in Hadley's Hope… and all of them had been down here in the grip of the Thorian. Only five had been left as some sort of infected leaders while the rest had been consumed, meat for the cannibal plant. This was why the Protheans had eradicated the species so thoroughly, destroying them down to a lone single survivor. The horror of it etched its way into Jannie's heart. Hadley's Hope had been depopulated, its entire population gone save for two Marines and one child. The realization of it haunted Shepard as she realized one heart-breaking fact.

They had lost.

* * *

 **UT-47 "** _ **Rey Kenobi"**_ **, In-Transit To LaGrange Point Two, Feros Space, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

The trip back to the SSV _Normandy_ aboard the Bell Aerospace UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transport Vessel _"Rey Kenobi"_ was both a sobering and somber one as TEAM LION was shuttled from the surface of Feros to the SSV _Normandy_ , still in geosynchronous orbit over the area it had bombarded with kinetic strikes. Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway (SACAF) kept the music off and the chatter to a minimum as she piloted the _Rey_ through the hazy atmosphere of Feros, the plumb of ash and soot darkening the skies and limiting her Mk. I eyeball from the normal visual flight, but did little to disrupt the electronic sensors of the astronautics of the Kodiak as she piloted the vessel through the chop of the atmosphere. She had been flying shuttles and dropships for five years now on Elysium and Benning, and was use to the jaw-jacking of Army grunts pissing and moaning in the back about flight-times in between some training module out in the boonies for some regimental training or even a detachment of Marines who wanted to get out and stretch their legs on a planet before shooting everything in sight and drinking up all the booze. The one thing a pilot hated to hear was nothing; a clear sign that everything had righteously gone to shit.

The last time she had a 'quiet' shuttle was during an Army Table where a full Battalion decided to go do a full compliment of maneuvers; Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery… even the damn cooks and truck drivers were out in the dusty pains of Benning's southern continent, waging a fake war to practice up in case the real thing ever happened. The gun-ho grunts and knuckledraggers had all been transo'ed out to the Dorne Continent to blast the landscape silly with mechanoid targets and simulated locations for the Army yahoos to practice open-field combat, urban ops, house-clearing… they had gone full out, Patty fully admitted. But some fucking doodad motherfucker in the FDC Tent had misread some numbers and put a real-life artillery round where some real-life Infantrymen had been building fortifications to play some wargame against an opposing Company. Just one shell had wiped out half a company of men and women in less than a second, sixty-plus dead.

The silence in that UT-40 Klondike Transportation Insertion Vessel had been just as oppressive and thick as it was on the _Rey_ now.

Holloway looked to the co-pilot seat for a brief moment, hoping that her 'secondary' hadn't noticed, Captain Jane Shepard sitting in the seat, looking ready to chew through some diamondglas. The Chief wasn't paid to ask those kinds of questions; she flew people into the Slag for a living, and then she flew them out. But she had been around long enough to know something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. Army Combat Medics and Navy Corpsmen were generally insanely overprotective of their troops, but _cabbies_ (as the ground-borne Air Force wrenchturners liked to call shuttle pilots) such as herself were a clear second place, bringing warriors and needed personnel to the exact location they were needed… no matter how fucking hot or dangerous it was. When she had evacuated Marshal Aquila, her remaining Deputies, and a dangerously-injured Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, Patty had gone tits-to-the-wall full-tilt boogie getting the _Rey_ on-station as fast as she could without actually crashing the shuttle, and then had done it again getting back to the _Normandy_. TEAM LION had been down two, but was coming back with three; a rather beefy-looking Marine Lieutenant, a no-shit 'Total Party Kill' Marine Corporal Gunner who looked tough enough to make a Turian _Centurion_ cry… and a little girl. Holloway hadn't seen anyone else on the elevated Landing Zone affectionately called ' _the Frizbee_ ', nor had she seen one lifeform in the dusty boulevards of Hadley's Hope.

A thousand colonists… five hundred Marines… and TEAM LION came back with _three_.

Patty went to Chief Warrant Officer School; she could do that math and come back with an answer _no one_ wanted to say out loud.

" _Chuán zhǎng_? You and your folks going to hang in there?" Holloway asked as she manned the helm, seeing that the _Rey_ was still about halfway out from its RP back with the Stealth Frigate.

"Bad hit, Chief. Real bad." The redhead replied softly, taking a moment to look back into the cargo area of the Kodiak to see if anyone else could overhear her. "Too damn close a call for us, and…" Even the N7 didn't want to say it, but Patty could fill in that blank.

"That's all that's left?" The Colonial Air Force pilot asked softly, doing her best not to sound too hopeful or too demeaning in her tone. _Please don't tell me I might be escorting the only survivors out of this Godforsaken planet_ was _not_ the impression she wanted to give. A Marshal and some Deputies, a couple of Marines, and a kid? Six out of fifteen _hundred_? The Lion didn't answer, but that was an answer all unto itself. _Oh fuck_ , Patricia had to shut her eyes hard at the thought, knowing she was getting off light. Flying into the Slag could get bad, but she wasn't a groundpounder by any means. She didn't slug it out with pirates or slavers, didn't eat dirt or crawl through the mud. At the worst, she had an exciting minute or two dropping off personnel so some galactic asshole got whatever fucking reward they so richly deserved (an ass-kicking and a round to the head) and sometimes another exciting ride picking up the wounded to save some brothers and sisters in Blue. She had men and women die on her shuttle on MEDEVACs, but she had always felt confident that there was nothing else she could have done; shuttles could only fly so fast, prayers and wishes be damned. But that kind of hit?

Patty guess she knew why there had been an orbital bombardment; revenge strike.

The shuttle shook slightly as it passed the planets' Kármán Line, the theoretical line that separated a planets' atmosphere from true space as they passed through the troposphere and entered into the black, the display indicators showing that all systems were green and the cockpit windows showing the great black backdrop sprinkled with stars. Patricia was already queuing up the projected flight path to lead to the _Normandy_ , a waypoint displayed by a small circular ring that was locked onto the Frigates' modulated homing beacon so a shuttle could find a vessel in space instead of hunting for it in orbit against the OLED glass of the shuttles' cockpit windows, the Augmented Reality Overlay letting her 'see' where to go. She also queued up a projected Time-To-Arrival and Distance display that appeared at the upper left hand corner. Patricia flew in silence, trying not to mull upon what she now knew, and what she knew was going to happen. Whatever happened down on Feros, whatever TEAM LION and Humanity's First SPECTRE saw down there? It had earned itself the complete and full attention of the Lion of Elysium.

And her unrequited wrath.

"Havana X-ray, this is Lion-6." Captain Jane Catherine Shepard called out from the _Rey's_ communication suite at the co-pilot's seat, using the shuttles' more-powerful receiver/transmitter array to connect with the remains of IV Fleet as well as the Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla being led by Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Brian Kahoku. The _York_ -Class Cruiser, the SSV _Havana_ , was the flagship of the Flotilla and patrol squadron. Essentially, she was calling 'big bird', so to speak, Patty thought.

" _Lion-6, this is Havana X-ray. Go ahead."_

"Request fire mission." The Lion began, her tone as hard as iridium. "Repeat last mission; fire-for-effect at known point."

There was about a ten second silence on the radio. That wasn't a good sign, Holloway knew.

" _Jane, it's Brian."_ The rumbling voice of Admiral Kahoku and current Acting Commanding Officer of IV Fleet and Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla spoke over the cockpits' speakers, Patty instantly moving to turn down the squelch on the receiver/transmitter to turn down the volume. This was a conversation between an Admiral and the Lion, and the pilot was going to pretend that she was deaf. _"Jane, you're asking me to deliver a massive set of kinetic strikes onto a Garden World and a colony again. I know you're a Council Agent and you have the authority to make such calls, but someone's going to be screaming for someone's head in the next day or two. I need something a little more concrete in case some fagot-ass politician wants to use me as a dartboard for the politicial ambition or cover up whatever scandal they're trying to keep in the dark. It's one thing when you're on the ground. But we don't have eyes-on and I don't know exactly what's going on."_

"I'll tell you when we get back one-on-one, but I'm carrying the entire party of survivors from Hadley's Hope on this shuttle, and I can count them all on one hand with fingers to spare." _Oh… oh fuck,_ the pilot thought while school her face to passiveness, not daring to show or say anything. She was right, oh God she had been right. TEAM LION had pulled out six people from Hadley's Hope, six out of fifteen hundred-plus. Marines, colonists… families. _Lord, please make this right somehow,_ Patricia prayed to a God she really didn't put a lot of stock into, but in this instance she'd make an exception. There had been but a single survivor from the Assault on Eden Prime, only one person known to have escaped the Geth invasion. Not one soul had been saved on the ACV _Horizon_ , and Patty remembered that particular shuttle ride as well, coming back one person light, a Marine having lost his life. Now it was Hadley's Hope.

She didn't want to say it, but Patricia _knew_ , deep in her heart, she _knew_.

 _We're losing._

"I need you to target this thing and make sure that what's dead _stays_ dead." The Lion continued, no mercy in her voice, none whatsoever. "Protheans fucked up a long time ago and didn't finish the job. And we just paid the price for their arrogance.

"I need to make sure that there's no way it can _ever_ survive." The radio went silent for a long moment as Holloway continued to fly the shuttle, getting closer to the _Normandy_ , the ETA set at twelve minutes.

" _Fire mission approved, Lion-6. One mike."_ The man's voice came back, somber but steady. They were going to do it, oh God they were going to do it.

They were going to _glass_ the area.

At thirty seconds prior, the Air Force pilot cut the forward thrusters of the _Rey_ and engaged the docking thrusters to flip the vessel a hundred and eighty degrees, letting the UT-47 coast backwards as they faced Feros, knowing what the Captain would want without her having to say it. They were out of the fire corridor as time ticked by, Patty feeling her heart thudding in her chest at what was going to happen. Never had the Systems Alliance ever done such a thing. Oh sure, there had been _discussions_ of the act, and certainly there were movies and video games that had it portrayed. But turn an area completely and utterly inhabitable? To reduce an area's potential survivability to zero for all time? No, that had never happened amongst Humanity. Even the most vicious and most cruel of assholes had never gotten close to such a thing.

Patricia watched as no less then the _entirety_ of the IVY Fleet and Tenth Reconnaissance Flotilla began firing upon a planet until the unthinkable happened; cracking the planets' surface open like an egg. It took approximately three minutes of continuous orbital bombardment as twenty-seven vessels glassed the site until there was an eruption that even Holloway could see from her vantage point in space; the bright orange glow of lava. _God… a volcano_ , she thought as the area of the target was quickly covered in a grayish cloud that was expanding rapidly, knowing what was happening. They had drilled the site so hard that they had cracked through the crust of Feros and exposed the mantle, liquid earth erupting from the fissure and exploding outward with volcanic force. _A geothermal event_ , Patty thought disquietingly, remembering what the Lion had said about fixing a Prothean fuck-up.

Just what in the good-Goddamn-fuck had they found on Feros?

The Chief Warrant Officer decided she was better off not knowing as she flipped the shuttle back and continued course to the _Normandy_ , the sight of the brand-new volcano staying in her thoughts for a long time.

* * *

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, LaGrange Point Two, Feros Space, Theseus System, Attican Beta Cluster, July 12, 2183**

The _Rey Kenobi_ had docked with the SSV _Normandy_ but a few minutes ago, the shuttle going through its docking procedures and decontamination process before the gullwing doors opened to reveal the Cargo Bay of the Orlop Deck as the passengers inside began to file out. Several were being led to the Frigates' MedBay by other members while others were taking the same members weapons to check and clean them before putting them back in the Armory as was usual for post-mission. Seaman Monica Valerie Negulesco had Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder in hand though the HM-8404 didn't need any assistance in walking or finding the MedBay. No, she did it because Captain Jane Shepard had asked her to, the Lion knowing that the Navy Corpsman would see to the others first before getting herself seen, which under most circumstances was understandable. But this time it was Sara who was a part of the casualty list, and possibly needed to be seen first. The Angel hadn't been pleased with the order that the Lion had given to Monica in front of them, but she hadn't argued it either. Nugee didn't have to look hard to see how _traumatized_ they all were, the haunted looks and pursed lips, how fragile each and every one of them were coming from the grips of that terrible monster. These members, these few survivors, were in need of care; possibly more than anything that the _Normandy_ and her medical staff could give. But that wouldn't stop them.

"Hey," Chief spoke up softly as they reached the elevator that would bring them up to the Gun Deck, looking to Negulesco with blue eyes that were now clear of any sign of infection, "proud of you." Corporal Jeanette Maria Sanchez Vasquez had regaled the Angel before the _Rey_ had picked them up on the Frizbee with what 'Doc Nugee' had done on Feros; fighting alongside TEAM LION, pushing herself forward to try and pull men out of danger, keeping Tali'Zorah nar Reyya alive, and the final battle against the Thorian. Adios was 'lugging' 2nd Lieutenant James Vega, seeing to her last remaining comrade from the Fourth Marine Expeditionary, but Nugee knew that Jeanette had pretty much attached Doc to her hip, the Gunner looking out for the young woman on her first deployment just as Urdnot Wrex had.

"Thank you, Chief." Monica tried _really hard_ not to blush with the compliment, given to her by no less than the Angel of Illyeria. This was the woman who, as a girl, saved her father and dozens of others in Illyeria General. This was the woman who had recognized her contributions and efforts and gave Monica the chance to fulfill her dream, to be a Navy Corpsman. God it had been hard, oh so hard, but people had needed her and Negulesco had been there. Now the very woman who believed in her, who had given her her chance, she needed Nugee. She wasn't about to disappoint. Eleven people entered the elevator as the doors closed and began taking them to next deck above as Monica looked to see its occupants. There was Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams with two people looking out for her, Doctor Liara T'soni and little Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden standing by the Colonial Soldiers' side. There was James Vega and Jeanette Vasquez, the last two survivors of the Fourth MEU. 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was standing with Federal Marshal Samantha Collins, a gentle hand on Marse's shoulder and whispering something to her. There was Detective Garrus Vakarian standing alongside Agent Zevin Raeka, the Turian having appointed himself and no one nay-saying the Rapid Response Sniper. They were all here for their team, for their friends, and it ached Nugee's heart a little seeing that, being a part of it. When the doors of the elevator opened as Monica saw Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila standing on the other side, it surprised the Seaman at first until Marse Tequila's eyes went right to hers with a nod.

"She made it, Doc." Teresa said, and Negulesco's heart skipped a beat when she realized what the Frontier Marshal meant. _Tali…_

"She's a tough kid, and we have a good Doc." Ashley said immediately, the heavy bags and dark smears under her eyes didn't take away the fact that Williams was looking right at _her_ and meant every word she said. Chief Ryder looked at her with a smile, and Nugee felt her heart do a little lazy flip-flop. _I really am a Doc, now_ , Negulesco realized, having completed a combat deployment with a ground team, having pulled troops from out of the line of fire, having patched wounds and armor while under fire. Any one of those three would have been enough for anyone to call her as such, but she had done _all_ of them. She had gone on a mission with none other than TEAM LION itself and had proved herself. _Doc Negulesco… Doc Nugee,_ oh, she knew that nickname was going to stay, but Monica didn't find herself minding nearly as much.

"Alright, everyone." Monica raised up her voice inside the elevator. "File into the MedBay for post-ops checks and evaluations. No shirking or I sic Commander Chakwas on you to browbeat you to tears."

"Aye aye, Doc." Williams said with a smirk, echoed by Newt's childish voice.

"Aye aye, Doc." Collins said, her voice subdued, but she meant it.

Sara looked at Monica, and gave her a nod and a smile before she said;

"Aye aye, Doc."

Monica tried not to blush. She failed.

* * *

" _Tali! Oh! You… you silly, stupid… bosh'tet!"_

 _Sha'ma_ /Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya woke up to see the blue-tinted visor of her cousin Niki'Raan nar Tombay standing outside of her isolation tank; the medical apparatus that would allow a medical professional work on her through the means of sealed gloves connected to the protective duraplast cylinder that would keep her sealed off from the outside environment so to limit the risk of infection and allergic reactions. Niki was standing on the other side of the horizontal tube from where Tali laid upon the disinfected table that was inside the tube, the interior cramped and confining; built for saving a life, not for comfort. Still, it was certainly better than dying from exposure. The Quarian Pilgrim had been away for almost two hours now, having been told by Doctor Karen Chakwas that the shuttle was coming back with Niki alive and on-board, as well as her own prognosis. She would be 'tanked' for several hours to make sure that her reactions were down and any possible secondary infections or flare-ups could be addressed quickly, but the minor surgery needed to remove the shrapnel that had been in her side, him, and right thigh had been removed without issue. It was the exposure that was the real threat to a Quarian.

"Hey." Zorah said, still feeling a little loopy from all the anti-histamines and anti-bacterials she was on, lifting her right hand and placing it on the inner-curve of the clear tube that protected her from the ships environment, hermetically sealing her with its slightly-distorted surface. Niki looked at little silly, the duraplast making her figure a little warped, but that was fine. They were both alive and that was enough for now. Niki's hand went to the other side, her three-fingered hand matching Tali's own, the attempt to touch hands meaning everything to the Pilgrims. "I heard you got to beat up a plant."

" _Ugh! It was_ in _the planet! With all that_ dirt _overhead!_ " Her cousin exclaimed, making Tali snort. Niki had never really been comfortable on planets, much less _in_ them. _"Ancestors as my witness, I swear the roof was going to collapse on us all. And that was before the Captain decided to glass the place!"_ The silvery eyes blinked several times as Niki got closer to the tube, placing both hands on it, no doubt where the Rifleman's point-of-view looked to be as if she were holding Tali. _"I was really worried, Tali. I don't want to lose you."_

"I-I know." Tali didn't need Raan to elaborate; she knew exactly what Niki was referring to. "I'm a Quarian, not some Salarian with a tummy-ache! Give me about a day and I'll be as right as purified air."

" _You'd better be, else I'm coming in there and planting my foot up your_ clochea _,_ tuho _."_ Niki moved to hug the tube, and Tali touched where Niki was, knowing it was the best that they both could do. It was enough for now, but Tali promised herself that she would return it properly when she got the chance. Her cousin had been given quite the scare, and Tali knew that Niki had been worried. She held up a lavender-colored hand to press where Raan's head was so her cousin would know that if Tali could comfort her and ask for forgiveness, she would. _"You get better, cousin. I'll keep Ensign Reid in line as she tries to play acting Chief Engineer. Ancestors know you put a Human in charge of an engine, and half of the components get replaced without you looking. What is up with them and_ not _fixing anything?"_

"They're used to swapping something out, old for new, instead of fixing it in place." The Pilgrim replied, remembering asking that very question to 1st Lieutenant Gregory Adams. She now held his position, his team was now _her_ team. Thankfully, everyone worked well with her before and having a Quarian in charge didn't seem to upset anyone. Of course, someone one who might have an issue kept it inside, probably figuring that since the Captain, Lion of Elysium, and Council Agent Jane Shepard put her in charge of Engineering after her actions on the SSV _Langemarck_ as well as the ACV _Horizon_ , anyone with a problem quickly realized that saying something would get them nowhere fast. Not at all like a Quarian vessel, though a Captain's word was Law; in that Human and Quarian vessels were the same. Still, being a Chief of Engineering even on a Human vessel was a big deal for a Quarian, and being one on a state-of-the-art vessel? Under the command of a warrior-Captain? Oh, the stories she and Niki would be able to tell when they returned to the Flotilla! Fighting the Geth, hacking and _captaining_ a ship, serving with a SPECTRE, even meeting Lady Varis!

Shrapnel be damned.

Best… Pilgrimage… ever!

* * *

Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden shared a bed with not one but _two_ people.

The MedBay of the SSV _Normandy_ looked like something right out of the movies; everything was cleaned and polished, and looked dopes awesome! There were several monitor stations for computing needs, and Newt saw quite a few medical apparatuses that she had no idea what they did or what they were for except for patient care. Oh, she knew that the MedBay wasn't like some _Doctor's Office_ where some old man or woman stuck some flat stick on her tongue and made her say _'ahhhh_ ' while tapping her knee with some funny rubber hammer. No, this was the MedBay for _heroes_ ; everything in here was to help fix the hurts and injuries of TEAM LION! There was Doctor (sometimes Commander) Chakwas, an older lady with a nice posh accent that immediately had Newt smile at her voice; she sounded like that one teacher from her _Harry Potter_ movies, Professor Minerva McGonagall. It was voice that made everything alright.

Next to Newt was Ashley and Liara, the blue Asari fretting over both of them in a nice manner. Doctor Liara was combing through Newt's hair with her blue fingers, saying how she did enjoy the feel of Human hair (that made Newt wonder what an Asari's headcrest thing felt like!) while talking to Ashley, while Ashley and Newt were engaged in an intense game of Slaps. The young girl knew what both she were Liara were doing without having being told; Ashley had gone through something bad, and they were trying to make up for it by being there for her. Like how Ashley had been there for _her_ when the monsters had come. Now it was Newt's turn to return the favor as best she could, seeing in the Soldier's face, the grief that was around the edges, the things without words. Ashley put her hands on top of Newt's as the young girl pretended to concentrate while sticking her tongue out and corkscrewing her eyes before trying to swat the back of the older woman's left hand with her right. The Soldier snatched her hand back in time with a lopsided smile.

"Geez, I remember playing this game with my sisters. All three of them." Ashley said as she placed her hands back on Newts'. Newt thought about Timmy, an ache forming in her heart. They had forever been fighting and arguing over something _constantly_ , Timmy never listening whenever Newt tried to keep him out of trouble or just plain ignoring her. Her last real memory of her eleven-year old brother was back in The Building, when Mom had been trying to soothe them while Dad had gone down into the depths to find a way out. The young girl remember hugging her Dad before he left, begging him not to go. She remembered her Mom tucking her into her make-shift bed, promising everything would be alright. Timmy? Timmy had been a brat, pushing her and nudging her with her feet where they laid upon the same shared bed, keeping her awake with his antics. He had irritated her badly enough that Newt stormed out of their little family room to get away from her older brother, claiming that she hated him.

Her last words to her brother.

Newt's eyes burned as she felt her cheeks grow wet. She tried remembering the last time her brother had given her a hug, or told her that he loved her. It certainly hadn't been in The Building, where Timmy had been practically bouncing off the walls, frustrated with the forced confinement (her Dad's words). She couldn't even remember anything from before then either, in their assigned quarters while Dad worked his job at the Hydroponics Lab and Mom as a Colonial Administrator. Timmy had hated Feros at the same time he wandered off to go exploring, sneaking off in the ducts where only maintenance was allowed, running off from the group of kids only to disrupt something and get into trouble, never listening to anyone at all. He… he hadn't been like that back on Benning. The Company (what Dad called them) had been paying 'twice as much' for people in his job (Hydroponics Technician) and even Mom had been thrilled at the idea of being able to do her job with a substantial pay raise. They had moved to Feros several months prior, and Newt had quickly made some friends around her age days of their arrival, Linda, Becky, and Samiah bringing her into their little group and latching on. Timmy's first several days had him coming to their family's assigned quarters with split lips, a bruised face, and reddened knuckles. Except that Timmy wasn't getting bullied, not even in his own words. He was getting into fights with other kids because he resented moving to Benning and had wanted everyone to know it.

Newt tried to think hard on a memory of Benning, something where she could remember Timmy being happy. All she could really remember was him being away from home most of the time and getting into trouble. Small stuff, but it was all she could recall. She couldn't hold it back as Ashley snuggled her as she cried, weeping for her brother. She loved Mom and Dad, and had been able to let them know that before the Bad Things happened. But she couldn't remember one good thing about her brother. He hadn't been a bad person, just… difficult. But she couldn't think of anything at all. The grief hit her so bad as Newt sobbed, finding herself telling Ashley and Liara as both of them held her and listened to her, Ashley and her arms around her to comfort her, Liara with a caring hand on her shoulder. _It isn't fair, any of it!_ Newt had her head leaning against Ashley's chest as she cried. _Not what happened to my family! Not what happened to those people! Not what happened to Ashley or Sam or Sara! Why did this all happen to us?_

It hit her hard, everything had happened in the past week or so, and the young girl sobbed into Ashley's chest as the Soldier held her and comforted her, her thin arms wrapping around the older woman's waist as she clutched at her. She missed her family, she missed her friends, but they were all gone. _I'm the last one left_ , Newt knew, and until now she had no idea what that meant.

"You're not alone, little one." Ashley said to her, kissing the top of her head, her words soft but kind. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"P-promise?" Newt sniffled a little, looking up to the soldier.

"Promise." Ashley smiled as Newt hugged her again, the pain going away a little as she held on, feeling the comfort that was given to her by a pair of Human hands and Asarikin hands as Liara held her from behind, pressing her blue cheek against the top of Newt's head. There was pain, but it was being held back. It was enough.

None of them noticed the smile that Sara Ryder had on her face as she discretely Chirped something on her OmniTool.

* * *

Corporal Jeanette Maria Sanchez Vasquez found herself entering into the Ready Room of Captain Jane Shepard, her dark eyes trying to absorb everything that was inside. The _pinche_ room was like… an ode of several hundred years of Navy tradition as the Marine Gunner found her jaw dropped slightly at the sight of artifacts and memorabilia displayed throughout the room, everything from an actual underwater Diving Suit to what appeared to be a hand-crafted and probably very accurate model of a wooden sailing ship that wasn't that small… with the name of the vessel HMS _Victory_ on the side of it. This was… _damn, to think my room had pics of_ cholo _rappers and thugs_ , Jeanette thought to herself. This was obviously a collection of someone who was proud of who and what they were, and certainly classier than a bunch of light-posters of muscled _Latino_ men covered in gang and prison holo-ink. She felt like an intruder until she heard a woman clear her throat to remind Vas why she was there when she turned to the deck that was to her right and immediately saluted the redheaded woman sitting behind it.

"Have a seat, _Adios_." Captain Jane Shepard gestured to the chair that was in front of the the desk, which Vasquez took after finishing the salute. She was surprised to see the Captain pull out two glasses and a bottle of Whiskey from inside her desk. _Damn. Well, it's been some tough days, and I think everyone could use a drink or three,_ the _Latino_ woman thought to herself as she found herself accepting the glass from the Captain and tried mimicking how much Shepard drank instead of swilling it all in one go. _This isn't bottom shelf_ mierde _,_ Jeanette realized, feeling how smooth it was. _So that's what sipping whiskey means_. "I brought you here for a couple of reasons, none of the bad. First, I've sent to BuPers my recommendation for a Bronze Star with Valor Device for you for your actions in the ExoGeni Headquarters and the fight against the Thorian. Lieutenant Vega said you were spot-on, and you were that and more. I can count at least three separate occasions that you were a deciding factor, and you really are an artist with that Marshal. I've served with the Teams for over five years, and I can honestly say I've never seen anyone handle a machine gun better. Which brings me to my second point, Corporal.

"I would like to you to join TEAM LION permanently."

Vasquez felt her jaw drop at that.

"You serious, ma'am?" Jeanette had no illusions as to what she was; just a jumped-up street thug in a Marine Corps uniform. She joined to get away from Old LA, from the violence and crime of the _barrios_. She knew that if she had stayed, she'd be in prison or dead by now, some worthless trash hocking drugs, boosting aircars, or boosting herself. She didn't take schooling seriously, had several minor black marks to her name from petty shit, and spent a couple years running around with a crew called the _Decimas Rojas de la Calle_ doing some pretty stupid shit. Muggings, beatdowns, armed robbery… that had all changed when she held her best friend in her arms, Mark Drake having been shot in a tussle between the Reds and another crew. Mark had been all of seventeen-years old, a boy trying to be a man, but ended up dying in the gutter. Jean hadn't wanted to ended up like that, or some booze whore or corner-walker with a monkey on her back. Joining the Corps had been her escape plan, and it had worked. Her recruiter, some burly _Latino_ Sergeant name Arias, had gotten the waivers and whatnot to gloss over her record and gotten her into the next shuttle to Marine Boot in Pendleton in record time, his old ink telling its own story; he had once been like her.

The Marine Corps had changed her life.

Oh, she struggled with it at first. Boot was hell, and the first time some Drill got into her face and screamed at her over some petty _mierde_ , she flat-out decked his ass to the ground unconscious. Ten minutes later, she was in the CO's Office looking at time in a brig. Her first chance at getting away clean and she had fucked it up. She had burst into tears when the Marine Captain had told her what she was facing, spitting out everything she had tried to escape, but the _barrio_ was still in her, not letting go. She must have said something close to being right because the same Drill she knocked out had given her an offer; she'd serve an off-the-books punishment that wouldn't be put in her military jacket, and during that time they would help her become something better than just a kid coming off of the streets. Four months of extra duty swabbing floors and cleaning toilets was miserable hell, but that was only one half of it. The other half was working in a real Marine Corps company, not a training one, seeing Marines call each other _brother_ without care of color or street. It had been… shocking, so different from the life she had known. Tough _hombres_ who had each others' backs, just like the street, but for something more than a few blocks of territory to pan out Sand or Grease. She didn't have to fuck everyone to get into a crew or fuck every new member. They were more concerned with her doing her job right than the fact she had a _pinocha_ or a set of _tetas_. She struggled with the discipline of it, but there were Marines who had come off the street just like her that had taken her under their wing, had taught her the difference.

Four months later, she entered back into Boot under that same DI, and the first time he got into her face and screamed at her, she took it like a champ. She knew without DI Briggs saying it that he was proud of her, that she had kept up her end of the bargain. He had been the first person to stand up for her not because they were friends or in the same crew or whatever. No, he had done it because it was what _she_ wanted, what she needed, but just didn't know how. Thirteen-weeks later, when she graduated Eagle and Globe, it had been DI Briggs that pinned it to her uniform. It had been the proudest day of her life.

Now the Lion was asking her to do something that was well above-and-beyond anything she could ever expect to be a part of.

Vasquez honestly had been surprised when Lieutenant Vega had pushed for her to join TEAM LION back on Feros. Yes, she was in fact the best gunner in the entire Battalion, but she didn't think she was necessarily good enough to hang swag with an N7 (who just so happened to be a Council Agent, to boot) and her hand-picked team of dedicated killers. She had seen them fight against the Geth on the Frisbee, pulling out so many different weapons systems and tech that it absolutely boggled her. There was like six different species fighting on the Lions' side, and many of them were experts in their field. She was good with a gun, yes, but that was it.

"No offense, ma'am, but… really?"

"Really." Shepard took another sip of her own whiskey. "When we were hip-deep in Geth territory inside a fifty-thousand year old building that was falling to pieces, you never once faltered or bitched. You're eyes were always moving, you were calm and cool on the trigger, and you didn't give into rash impulses or silly notions. You used cover, you worked well with a team you had no experience with, you had no issues with the various members, and you stayed on target the entire time. That's something I'd expect out of someone with more than two years in the Corps; usually five or six. Your ERB states that you're twenty. You've got some maturity to you if you can face something like what we had without going off the fringe, especially when we're wading neck-deep in the unexpected. I'm not asking you because I need a seat-filler. What I need is someone that is spot-on, someone that can keep their eyes open without flinching. We've… we've been facing some rather radical shit, and having someone who isn't flipping their shit every five minutes is certainly a boon. That kind of thing can wear a unit out. And I need the best." It went unspoken what that last sentence meant; the Lion thought she was amongst them.

"Alright, _la Capitan_ , I'll do it." Jeanette polished her whiskey in one go, setting the glass on the desk before taking the Lion's hand and shaking it. Vasquez had a pretty damn good idea why the Captain was _asking_ instead of just doing paperwork and shuffling her around Needs of the Navy and all.

"When you get a chance, we got better armor and weapons, as well as materials and the means to make improvements as you see fit. Sergeant Williams is the Armory Officer, and she might have so ideas if you want to beef up that Marshal of yours." There was a lop-sided smile on the redhead's face as Vasquez made to leave before the Lion interrupted her before heading out. "And _Adios_? If you got things that need addressing or family back home? I'd get to it." Jeanette took one look at the Captain and nodded her head once, knowing what Humanity's First SPECTRE was implying.

There might not be another chance.

* * *

 _[Encryption Protocol Established… Handshake Successful… Communication Uplink In-Progress… Connecting…]_

Captain Jane Shepard stood in the middle of the Communication Network Room, a Faraday Cage location in which a singular hardline was connected to on of the strongest and most encrypted communication devices the Systems Alliance had ever conceived, meant for a vessel that was depending on stealth insertions deep in enemy territory without a signal being detected or their frequencies hacked into. There was another additional layer of security thanks to her status as a Council Agent, a protocol from the Office of Special Tactics that had been inserted that thickened the firewalls and scrambled the cryptokey even further in a mutating quantum algorithm to further secure communications. Especially when one was getting a call from the Council of Law. Said persons came to be in the display of the Augmented Reality Display SMARTglass, three holographic images in color and with depth to their appearance. Jannie immediately went to the position of attention and saluted, knowing that a species' acknowledgment was considered acceptable, regardless of the different kinds of salutes that there were in the galaxy.

The Level Three Council Agent had sent her report of the events of Feros over an hour ago. The _Normandy_ had gotten the message for her to contact the Council. Heaven alone knew what the conversation was going to end up being like considering she just glassed a portion of a planet to kill a fifty-thousand year old mistake.

" _Captain."_ Councilor Sparatus Quinlinus nodded his robe head to her in acknowledgment, his fringe covered to mask the few missing fringe-quills that Detective Garrus Vakarian had told her some time ago were missing from an action some fifty years prior. Like Vakarian, Quinlinus was a former member of the Blackwatch, a ExOrD Combat Engineer. _"We have received your reports on the events on Feros. What caught our interest is that you suspect that the entity you encountered below the planets' surface was, in fact, a Thoi'han?"_ Jannie easily noted that the other two Councilors, Tevos T'essus and Valern Namnor, were equally as attentive.

"This conclusion is based upon references given to me by the four members of my team who are Academy Alumni." Shepard began, standing at parade rest. "They mention some class that teaches about ancient horrors, and that the Thorian was one of them. It certainly matched many of the hallmarks that they told me."

" _That is… most interesting news."_ Councilor Valern Namnor said quietly, seemingly lost in thought. _"There were records of the Prothean purge of the species long ago, but data had suggested that they did not feel the job complete. The warnings that we found pertaining of the Thoi'han were… most elaborate."_ Jannie suspected that there was a good deal she wasn't being told. Why would someone teach a class to some of the most brilliant young minds in the galaxy over a possibly extinct race? The Thorian under Feros had thought itself the last, having been taken and captured as some sort of _pet_ for the Protheans to fondle their ego to, but who was to say others weren't captured for science, study, or military purposes? Shepard knew better than to ask, but she assumed that one of those monstrosities had been encountered in the past before, probably causing a great deal of damage. For all she know, it had started off for the same reasons that ExoGeni had been doing it for; getting an edge over its competition and money.

"My Alumni were quite eloquent about the threat, and I didn't disagree. The Thorian depopulated an entire colony and a Battalion of Human Marines with everyone none-the-wiser." Jannie replied, looking at Valern, as he was the last one to speak. "I guess they were warned of the threat, and to take measures that would likely conclude to area sanitation. I feared biological contamination or some sort of quarantine violation, and performed an orbital bombardment of the site until I cracked the crust. There's now a new volcano where it once stood."

" _Are you aware of how it initially survived?"_ That was Councilor Tevos T'essus.

"My conclusion is that the Protheans got greedy or stupid." Shepard replied immediately, going for what she believed to be the truth. "The Protheans were adamant about eradicating the race, but somewhere near the end of their campaign I guess someone thought it would be a swell idea to have a trophy or a new addition to the zoo." Those were the 'nice' possible scenarios. Jannie was beginning to suspect otherwise now that she wasn't in combat. "The creature was in some sort of scooped-out cavern, too nice to be natural. It had its own biome and vegetation, as well as the colonists and Marines from the surface. Once we understood the threat that the Thorian presented, I had my team eradicate the creature, and then we eliminated the possibility of any hope of its survival, big or small, by drowning the area in lava and explosions. I won't be making the same mistake as the Protheans."

" _To that, you have our approval."_ The Asari Councilor intoned, though it was hard to tell if she were pleased or if it was just words to some lackey or thug to let them know that they weren't in trouble. Jannie wasn't exactly impressed with the Council members, more dithering over politics and ramifications. Oh, she understood the basic concept of their job, but arguing over every little point and waiting for more information to come it didn't solve everything… or anything. Typical politicians. _"We shall have the Office of Special Tactics forward you any further updates as necessary. Citadel out."_ Two of the three figures faded away.

The Turian Councilor remained.

" _Your request for a private meeting surprised me, Captain."_ Councilor Quinlinus said, his holographic image still present. _"I assume that this has something to do with ExoGeni, Feros, or the Thoi'han."_

"All three." Shepard replied. "ExoGeni knew of the Thorian for a few to as many as several years, discovering it before the colony was created. I have no idea of the true extent, though I did capture a good deal of their files from their Headquarters on Feros, but no one is stupid enough to leave all the incriminating evidence in one location, especially right near the scene of the crime. I forwarded this information to the Office of Special Tactics, _not_ the Systems Alliance. I have evidence and collaboration that a few members of my government were in the know about this, though the depths of their knowledge and their true involvement I don't know for certain. But it sounds like someone or someones in ExoGeni were feeding people piecemeal to the Thorian for ancient knowledge, likely technological of some kind. Without having a stock portfolio in front of me, I think I remember hearing about ExoGeni's good run of profitable quarters for the past several years. Feros certainly wasn't a money-maker, and many colonies take time to turn into profits. There were most certainly collaborators on the inside and the outside of ExoGeni.

"Which brings me up to the point of this meeting, Councilor; did yourselves or the Office of Special Tactics know of this creatures' existence prior to my report?"

The Turian looked at her for a long period of time without saying a word, but his stare was certainly baneful.

"The reason why I ask," Jannie continued, "is that the Geth were there. They thrashed a Human Fleet to get to Feros. While I have no physical evidence that Saren himself was there, I know he had to have been. I found the body of a possible confederate in the same cavern as the Thorian, one Shaila Janessa, a Huntress Guard of House T'soni; one of Lady Benezia T'soni's people. So either Saren was there, or someone he trusted. Right in the same location as the Thorian. He went to Eden Prime for a Prothean Beacon that was kept under wraps, though I don't' know what level of confidence or collaboration was kept on your end, if other SPECTREs knew or what the normal need-to-know was. He sent thugs to capture a Protheantologist that has had zero contact with her family for twenty-five years, but he knew exactly where to find her. Now he visits a fifty-thousand year old plant that was being kept under wraps by the corporation that found it and those they were bribing. I had to rip out the information from a heavily-encrypted databank that wasn't connected to any ExtraNet. Yet Saren knew and actioned upon it somewhere between three to seven days ago, convincing or ordering the Geth to send a _hundred and twenty vessels_ to wipe out a twenty-seven vessel fleet. They even had reinforcements. Either he stumbled upon the information somehow, the Geth magically hacked the intel while looking up 'weirdest things we can find'… or he had to have known before Eden Prime. Councilor, this does _not_ add up."

Quinlinus still looked at her, but it was no longer a stare. It had cooled down considerably.

" _Captain… Jane."_ That was certainly a first. Her biggest detractor on the Council calling her by her first name? They certainly weren't on a first-name basis. _"I now understand the seriousness of the question. We were unaware of the existence of the Thoi'han, both this office and that of the Office of Special Tactics. You are passionate about the protection of your race, and that I respect. I can see how you can reach the conclusion how it might have been on the Citadel that Saren discovered the Thorian through classified materials not made readily available to even trusted Agents. But I assure you that I had no idea of the Thoi'han's existence upon Feros, and how Arterius was able to glean of its survival from the Prothean Era is unknown as well. I must admit I am surprised that you forwarded the information from ExoGeni's involvement to the Office of Special Tactics. I… would not have guessed that from you, or even most Agents."_

"Sending Marshals might tip some of them off, and then there's the whole issue that those men would cry long and hard about having a fair trial while hiring the most expensive lawyers to finagle their way out of their just desserts while Humanity would be getting a massive DLC on some of those threats you yourself said we weren't ready for. A Council Agent or three would be more discrete… and more final." There was no mistaking her tone on her thoughts towards this. ExoGeni had fucked up, and fucked up _hard_. Even if they had not known of the true dangers of the Thorian at first, they had certainly acted in a cautious manner enough to suggest that they had tripped over the possibility that the creature could and would gain control in a manner that had happen thanks to Saren Arterius and his Geth. Every death on Hadley's Hope and with Fourth Fleet she laid upon the boardroom table of the Board of Directors of ExoGeni, every one of their names confessed by Ethan Jeong. While it had been Saren to unleash the Thorian upon the unsuspecting populous above, it was because of ExoGeni's cute little science project that it existed in the first place. If they had burned down that damn plant once they realized the dangers, Fourth Fleet and Feros would have never lost a soul.

" _I believe I have the perfect Agent in mind."_ Sparatus nodded once. _"Thank you for trusting me with your concerns, Captain. I will see to it that they are addressed. May the light of your stars guide you."_ The holographic image faded as Jannie watched the ARD SMARTGlass returned to translucency, pondering all that she had heard. After a moment, she typed in the protocol and a communication address she had received a couple of hours prior along with a message for the address's owner. Shepard waited a few moments before the call connected and the Communication Network Room's VI indicated that the handshake for encryption was successful when she saw a holographic digital representation of whom she called appear on the Augmented Reality Display in front of her.

" _Ah, Shepard. Good to see you, sister."_

"Agent Rix." Jannie nodded her head and smiled at the half-image of Level Three Council Agent Avitus Rix, only his head and upper torso visible through whatever he was using to communicate through. It might have even been his OmniTool. "I take it you got my earlier message?"

" _I did. I'm glad you came forward with your concerns."_ The Turian SPECTRE said. _"I wish I could say they were unfounded, but some of the questions you brought up were quite… disturbing. I know_ of _the ancient horrors, but not each individual species or what they can do. How Saren came to learn of one on Feros while exiled from the Citadel and supposedly unable to gain access and intelligence makes little since unless he knew of it_ before _Eden Prime…"_

"…or someone clued him in on it's location." Jannie finished the sentence, getting the Council Agent to nod his head in reply. "Believe me, I am fucking _pissed_ at ExoGeni; enough to turn this Frigate around and gun right for their galactic headquarters. But then the truth would come out, and I don't think my Parliament and species need to know that the Citadel or the Council are purposefully hiding knowledge of threats such as the Thorian or some of the others I'm coming to learn about. God… Sara's the only one of my entire race that knows anything." Jannie had gotten the low-and-dirty on the _thirteen_ ancient horrors, of which she had only known two of prior to Feros; the Rachni and the Metacons. Hell, she only knew of the Metacons _from_ Sara! If the Systems Alliance got wind that such threats _likely_ existed (why teach a class on a boogieman that didn't exist?) and the Council had kept them unaware? There would be political hell to pay. No one needed that right now, not in a time of war when relationships were already… strained. Jannie would clue in a few people to keep eyes and ears open; Poppa Bear, Uncle Steven, Uncle Royce and Aunt Val. But the last thing her mission needed was some brainless politician trying to score political points mouthing off and making a terrible situation even worse. "Which brings me to two points I'd like to bring up to you. Both are at apocalyptic-shit-hit-the-fan levels of stupidity."

" _Humans and your foul language sayings."_ Avitus chucked with some amusement. _"If it isn't excrement and profanity, it's mating jokes. What do you have for me, and I'll see what I can do."_

"First, I'm pretty Goddamn certain that the Thorian I just threw into a volcano isn't the only one." Shepard began. "Just got done talking to the Council, and not one of them were arguing about their possible existence. Something Valern said about the details of their existence from the Protheans were elaborate, but I have a fully bona fide Protheantologist who has _never_ encountered any mention of the Thoi'han in her quest in discovering what made the Protheans extinct. Said the Protheans didn't feel that they accomplished the job, and I guess we read it on some wall-scrawl somewhere. Easiest way to look at that is that the Council is _lying_."

" _Keeping in confidence the true nature of a threat from the public is nothing new, but I think I see what you mean."_ The Turian mused. _"It does seem odd that a school that is valued for its education would teach a class about supposedly extinct species gone for fifty millennium. To find even just a singular representative would be considered an archaeologist's dream, not a call to war. You think we've encountered such things before?"_

"It would make history of the Rachni Wars more sensible." Having gone to the Systems Alliance Military Academy, Jannie, along with other Cadets, had studied military history. One assignment she had done was, in fact, the first century of the Rachni Wars. There had been a surprisingly great deal of gaps and questions about the start of the Wars. Opening a Relay and somehow magically a species of space-faring incests began pouring out and attacking everything? It never added up. That the initial First Contact had been lost was understandable, but supposedly the Rachni were Mass Relay-capable _before_ the Salarians stumbled over them. The species from Sen had never opened the Relay for whatever reason, even though they had possessed the ability to do so. That… said things. Like _fear_ of traveling into the unknown, what was taught now in reference to unmapped Relays. Had the Rachni stumbled onto something else… or did they know something terrible was out there to begin with and were avoiding it? It would have that first assault on the Salarians' expedition make a lot more sense if they were _defending_ instead of _attacking_. "Not once did the Council ask what the Thorian could do, what it did, any of its possible abilities or tasks. Not one First Contact Protocol question whatsoever. They weren't even perturbed that I vaporized a creature that was a quarter of a _million_ years old and what might have been the last of its kind. Not once did the word 'genocide' come up.

"I think there's another one. Just like on Feros."

" _That makes a disturbing deal of sense."_ Rix did not sound pleased at all. _"I have no idea how Saren could have come to this information unless it was given to him. The two most likely avenues would be the Geth and someone on the Citadel. But that last point would mean that they would have known about the Thorian on Feros. Perhaps… a deal was made between some element on the Citadel and your ExoGeni Corporation? Exchanges for information and technology to aid in the cover-up as well as finances?"_

"It's been done before, so it wouldn't even surprise me if that turned out to be the case." Avitus hit upon what Jannie already assumed; the Citadel _had to have_ known. Between all of the intelligence agencies and bureaus in the galaxy, data being sent on the ExtraNet, some drunk at a bar trying to impress someone… there was no way something like this could have been going on _for years_ without anyone knowing. Shepard wondered if a Council Agent had been sent to broker a deal; that would be a great deal more clandestine than sending a diplomat. It would explain a lot.

If that Agent had been Saren Arterius, it would practically explain everything, all wrapped up with a bow.

"Which brings me to my second point, the one you're going to like even less, Avitus." Shepard continued, taking a deep breath. Being an N, she was use to having intel from several locations brought together to make a big picture out of separate puzzle pieces. Having been out of the loop since the _Normandy's_ departure from the Citadel on route to the ACV _Horizon_ eight days prior, she had caught up on some correspondences and other tidbits, mostly from Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson, her Poppa Bear keeping some of the better news stories about her accomplishments and sending them to her. Being the Commodore to the acknowledged most lethal vessel in the galaxy had certainly tickled her, but something had caught Poppa Bear's eye, and he had forward it to her. She saw the same thing, too, something that had made her blood run cold. She had checked the fact that Poppa Bear had sent her, and what they had both discovered was quite disturbing.

"Avitus, I think some or all of the Council may be in league with Saren's plan."

* * *

Fine: ARC VIII, The Master Of Puppets

* * *

 _ **END PRIORITY MISSION: Feros**_

* * *

 _ARC IX: Being Human_

 **Dock 15-B, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 14, 2183**

The SSV _Normandy_ was docked with the Arc for a quick layover; a disembarking of passengers. A supplies and physical reports were being handed off to by appropriate personnel aboard the Human Station that served as the Gateway into Sol as well as a dozen other colonies throughout Earth Alliance Space, two items in note being escorted by a squad of Systems Alliance Marines; Multi-Fusion Objective Acquisition Battery Missiles. Food stores were being replenished as quartermasters and Bosun's Mates accounted four and hauled up the deployment ramp onto the Cargo Deck something that had most Sailor's mouth water at the though off during a deployment; fresh food and booze, colloquy known as Class Six in the military. There were also a few personnel changes being done as well; Ensign Nov alee 'Nova' Reid was getting her Permanent Change of Station Orders for the _Normandy_ (a bit of finagler done by its Captain), the Captain herself receiving a much needed Yeoman to help collate and help make manageable they great deal of data work that came with being a Captain of the Systems Alliance Navy as well as Humanity's First SPECTRE, and two more Engineers to keep up with the ever-increasing demands that the Stealth Frigate faced in its mission to hunt down a Rogue Agent. All this occurred under the watchful eye of Frontier Marshal Teresa 'Tequila' Aquila, who was actually standing Watch while 'ashore' at a space station, everything happening under the watchful eye of the former Marshal of Feros.

She watched as 2nd Lieutenant James Vega disembarked the _Normandy_ with Captain Jane Shepard at his side, the beefy _Latino_ Marine doing an about face to salute the Captain and shook her hand before he turned around and headed deeper into the Arc. _World's worth of weight on that one's shoulders,_ Teresa thought to herself as she watched Vega head towards the Docks, where one could see the main strip of cafeterias, eateries, shoppes, stores… and of course Starbuck's. One had almost been installed in the Hadley's Hope Bar (and grill), and Aquila tried to picture some cute female Batista working as a bartender too, or vice versa.

"You sure, Marse?"

Tequila looked to Captain Shepard, the redhead standing a polite meter away. She knew what the N7 was referring to; Jane had offered her a spot on the _Normandy_.

"I am." The Marshal replied, taking a deep breath. "Back on Feros, when you wanted to evict the Geth out of the ExoGeni Headquarters and find out why they were on the colony, I thought me and my boys were tough enough to hang out in the big leagues." It wasn't the fact that two of them had died while serving alongside TEAM LION that had proved her wrong. There were a good deal of points that had Teresa realize that she was nowhere near cutting the mustard. "This is Earth Space Series shit, Captain, and I'm at best Triple-A. It's one thing for me to make a decision that sends me home in a pine box; that I'm okay with. But I'm not going to put on Aires thinking I'm good enough and endangering your crew. I'm a cop and a damn good one. You need something more than a damn good cop. Detective Vakarian and Marse Collins are the kind that you need, and I'm nowhere near like that."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Tequila, but I respect your honesty, insight, and decision." Jane offered a hand, and Aquila shook it. "Anything chincey happens out there in the black, don't be afraid to give out a holler. Geth are too damn good at being where they aren't wanted, and the rest of us scrambling." Yeah, Teresa had heard some of the stories on the flight back from Feros to the Arc, Sailors talking and all. "Marshal Services going to toss you onto another colony?"

"Actually, they're talking about setting me up as a Federal Marshal." That had the redhead nod. Frontier Marshals oversaw the law and protected the colonists of their proscribed posts. Federal Marshals were the true bloodhounds of the Systems Alliance Marshal Services, able to enforce the law anywhere a Human lived, worked, or prayed. "But firsts' things first; I've got two of my own that I need to see to. Pay my last respects and make sure they get home right and proper." There had been an End of Watch ceremony on the _Normandy_ for the loses on Feros, and Captain Shepard had called out the names of all four of her lost Deputies as well as that of Lance Corporal Oblong Ubantu and the members of the Fourth Marine Expeditionary Unit. Tequila and her remaining two Deputies had been touched at the ceremony, seeing their own honored as heroes by the ever-growing legends of the crew of the SSV _Normandy_ and TEAM LION. Teresa would have done _anything_ to have her Deputies alive, but she knew that they would have been proud to have known that they would have been recognized by such an elite unit. They had done the Marshal Services, Feros, and the Alliance proud with their duty and sacrifice, and now Marshal Aquila would make sure that they were laid to rest properly, as any cop should. "Where to next for you, Captain?"

"The Cit. Some things that need to be looked into and addressed." The way Jane said it had Tequila pretty sure that whoever was on the other side of that equation wasn't going to like the scrutiny. Nor likely live much longer beyond it. "I've got a friend who's going to look into ExoGeni in a way I can only describe as disturbing and get rid of the rot. I forwarded your name in case he needs a consult or an extra pair of hands cleaning out the trash. So if you get a strange call from an unknown user, don't just discount it." The Marshal's heart skipped a beat at the implication of that; the Lion had sent a _SPECTRE_ to get to the bottom of the debacle pertaining to Feros. Well… hot damn. Guess no one was going to weasel their way out of a very short, very bloody trial.

"If they holler, I'll come running. Captain." Teresa touched the brim of her Stetson as she tipped her head the redhead's way. "Do me a favor and look out for Sam for me, would you?"

"Of course, Marse. Good luck and good hunting."

* * *

Author's Note: As of 10/23/18, this story has hit the hallmark of 20,000 reads in 7.5 months. I also hit a hundred reviews with Master Of Puppets, IV. Not trying to beat my own drum, but I am pleased. Thanks to everyone who reads, rates, reviews, and rants, you certainly help this story along.

 **Feros**. I know I promised a different sort of _Mass Effect_ (it's right in the story summery), but I think between what happened on the _Horizon_ , and even with the _Battle of LaGrange Point Two_ , you were probably expecting Feros to go somewhat in the direction that it did in the game. But in reality, occupations are generally _very_ horrifying, only a few examples existing in history where an occupying force doesn't decimate the native population. In fact, the First Crusaders put _everyone_ to the sword when they overthrew Jerusalem on July 15, 1099. EVERYONE. But you probably didn't expect me to chalk up a loss, did you?

'Repeat' in the Military - The word 'REPEAT' is 99% _never_ used in radio transmission in the military (you do not say 'repeat your last transmission', but 'say again last transmission') except for one instance only; fire missions. To 'REPEAT' is to drop rounds at previous location once more, essentially bombarding something for a second (or third) time. I don't know when this came to be or why the military (or at least Army Basic) was so persistent on it, so I assume that at some point in time in WWI or WWII, this SNAFU came up and probably did something bad, so the radio protocol was created (AR 24-18/19 involves Radio Etiquette in the Army if I remember correctly). BTW, saying 'Repeat' means one does not have to describe the mission again (ie. Jannie wouldn't have to say fire-for-effect; REPEAT would cover that).

 _Decimas Rojas de la Calle_ is probably a really butchered translation of 'Tenth Street Reds'. This would make _Adios_ the Earth-born background, having been born in Old LA and being a part of a gang.

Jeanette Vasquez is, in fact, the _Earth-Born Shepard_ of this story. This has been the plan from the start of _The Siege Of Hadley's Hope_ mostly because of Jeanette Goldstein's portrayal of PFC Vasquez in the movie _Aliens_. The Vasquez character was (and in many ways, still is) quite unique for a female character; most females in Sci-Fi, Action, Horror, or other movies are generally _damsels_. The few that are actual 'heroes' are general second-fiddles until about ten to fifteen years ago, when female-led action stars have become increasingly more popular. It is interesting to note that Goldstein's portrayal of Vasquez, a female Marine heavy Gunner, was for quite a long time a source of inspiration for female actresses who wanted action parts (such as Michelle Rodriquez, who has cited just this).

SMARTglass - Something I was to use in _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ , primarily the interrogation room's two-way mirror. This would be similar to the OLED, but an actual thin piece of electronic plastic that one could get displays, images, and information on. You see this concept in Sci-Fi with clear panes of glass with HUD that aren't projected onto the glass, but instead displayed upon it. Tony Stark's sunglasses in _Avengers: Infinity War_ would be a good example of SMARTglass.

The conversation with the Council and Avitus Rix was to cover just how Saren was suppose to know of the Thorian on Feros, which was never explained. It was obviously kept hidden/classified by ExoGeni, so how did Saren know of it? Here I introduce the thought that perhaps the Cit did, in fact, know.

And… what the hell are you doing, Jersey? The Council possibly collaborating with Saren? Well… the game did leave up the entirety of the Geth was in Mass Effect up to Shepard and Co., making it a _Human_ problem. Even the Salarian Team had been dispatched to 'observe', not necessarily 'investigate'.


	41. Being Human, I

" _I can hold my breath, I can bite my tongue,  
_ _I can stay awake for days, if that's what you want.  
_ _Be your number one._

 _I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh,  
_ _I can dance and play the part, if that's what you ask.  
_ _Give you all I am._

 _I can do it… I can do it… I can do it…_

 _But I'm only human,  
_ _And I bleed when I fall down.  
_ _I'm only human,  
_ _And I crash and I break down.  
_ _Your words in my head, knives in my heart,  
_ _You build me up and then I fall apart._

' _Cause I'm only human."_

 _\- "Only Human", Christina Perri, sung by Federal Marshal Samantha Collins at a Citadel karaoke bar, 2183_

 **EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183**

Author's Note: A little more Cit time. Some much-needed R and R for our intrepid crew. They've had a hell of a week.

There will be a little more of the Cit seen, some tie-ins, and some of the long-game planning that I'll continue on that will be seen throughout the story.

For now? Discover Shepard's favorite spot on the Citadel!

* * *

The SSV _Normandy_ pulled into the Earth Alliance Space Common Docks in a berth meant for Sixth-Rate Military Vessels in the Kithoi Enders, the tail end of the Kithoi Arm of the Citadel. Clearance had already been granted by Citadel Security Services Space Traffic Control as the Harbormaster Program logged in the incoming vessel, naticles unfolding to 'capture' the ship in a contragravity field as well as mechanical berthing arms as the Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate was locked into port. Post-flight checks and inspections were conducted by the necessary crew members of the _Normandy_ , from the Flight Lieutenant to the Bosun's Mates, while on the exterior Systems Alliance deployed Sailors performed external checks of the vessel for any possible damages or potential threats, taking twenty minutes before the Heavy Helium Fusion Thrusters finally cooled down enough and the hull had reached near atmospheric temperature from the cold grips of space. Dock E15 itself was populated by more than a few sapients; most of the Systems Alliance Military. There were Marines who guarded the Earth Alliance Space Docks, armed with Hahne-Keder M500 Storm Shotguns, eying anyone entering the Docks as their identities were scanned and their business inquired. There were CitCitzs with family members in the Military who were doing the right thing and greeting their loved ones as they came to dock. There were Ministry of Defense civilian employees who did the jobs that the Military didn't have the personnel or the education for, filling in roles so that more members could serve their duties to safeguard Humanity.

And there were reporters, too.

The deployment ramp of the SSV _Normandy_ dropped to shore as dozens of members exited the vessel admists the view of drone recorders, OmniTool pic and still-takers, embedded vid-capture programs on visors, and even old-school digital photographic picture devices for long-range shots as Normandiers exited the craft. A few of those waiting were loved ones or were hoping to reach that status, hoping to catch the eye of a Sailor or Marine for temporary or permanent romantic purposes. Some were on official business. Several were reporters and journalists. One Human man was a very dedicated fan, bordering on obsessive. All had come to see the _Normandy_ return, knowledge of its destination fed out by a diplomat in the Human Embassy who had sold the information to a small-time information broker, who then turned around and sold it to several media social network sources. Three hours before the Stealth Frigate had arrived in Widow Space, its impeding arrival had been released on CNN, Citadel Network News covering the story about the recent events involving the vessel that was quickly becoming a legend, especially with the events of the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros).

Its arrival was announced with Tweets and Chirps, InstaGrams and ARTARVABlooms, hashtags and EN-links. Amongst the members of the Sons and Daughters of Terra, the ship that was captained by Humanity's First SPECTRE and crewed by what was quickly being believed to be the most lethal team in Human history was seen as the chariot of the Gods. Heroes and legends graced its decks, and the popularity of its members espoused by the media paled to the popularity felt by a great deal of the public. Hundreds of sapients were crowding the Dock, kept at a distance by Alliance Marines. A majority of them were Human beings, but not all of them. Turians and Salarians were interspersed through the crowed, Asari Maidens filtering in. Holographic lightboard placards were held up with words of gratitude written, and at least three marriage proposals were displayed, one surprisingly held by a Human woman who made her offer to a certain Turian resident of the Frigate. Salarian males were ready to serve at a moments' notice to a female of their species, as was their duty, and Maidens with thoughts of whisking Humans for a night of fun (male or female) waited patiently; they truly had the time, after all. But towering over them all were two female Quarians in armored exoskeletons, Migrant Fleet Marine Tech Warriors who stood taller thanks to their DuraFrame ExoSkeleton Suits, the females in question with armored visors and silvery eyes that watched everything at once, bodies ready for action. Both hosted a pair of retractable claws for personal defense if any thought to harm a member of the _Normandy_ , Rahe and Jora'Tarrem nar Sofis vas Varis vigilant. Ancestors would smile at the carnage they could wrought if some _tuho_ thought to do something stupid. When one obnoxious reporter decided to test one of the twins, Rahe just popped out her retractable Wolverine claws, and was highly amused to see damn near every Human in sight jump up and backwards at the sight.

The Lady of the Chambers wasn't about to let harm come to the galaxy's best Gethkillers, after all.

Sailors disembarked from the _Normandy_ to the sound of cheers and applause, pic-taking and questions shouted, and many were stumped at the sight. None of them had expected a hero's welcome, especially on the multi-racial station known as the Citadel. The sight of so many Humans was an endearing one, but the recognition that the Sons and Daughters of Terra weren't the only ones present was a surprise as well. The crewmembers were looking forward to a well-deserved Liberty, and it was being kicked off by what appeared to be a crowd of adoring fans and well-wishers.

The cheers went up a couple dozen decibels when the sight of a redheaded women in Alliance Blues came down the ramp, flanked by a petite yet muscular brunette Corpsman and a woman with a Stetson on her head and Tridend colonial markings tattooed upon her face.

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) felt herself almost stumble at the sight and the noise as she came down the ramp, shocked at the sight of so many people crowding the dock as the roar of their cheers washed over as TEAM LION and dozens of members of the SSV _Normandy_ disembarked the craft for an unprecedented one-hundred and sixty-eight Liberty Pass; she had given her ship a full week off. After the grueling events that began on the Fourth of July, when Mister Arnold Donald of the Earth Carnival Cruise Corporation had informed Jannie that the ACV _Horizon_ had gone missing, to the conclusion of Feros, her command had given their all in the name of mission, duty, and species. While she might have been the only N-Level on board, Shepard firmly believed that she had the most elite crew in the entirety of the Systems Alliance Military, those few, proud, dedicated few whose actions were becoming known galaxy-wide. Seeing the crowd of people cheering for them as they disembarked? It touched her deeply. It reminded her of the days after Elysium, of the three-month USO Tour that she was more-or-less ordered to do for the Systems Alliance, the military touting out their newest hero for propaganda and good press. But this wasn't the Systems Alliances' doing; this was the people, the same folks that she fought for. To see so many?

While it didn't make the struggle and the losses any easier, it did help.

"That's a sight to see." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams said as several people disembarked the _Normandy_ , the Lone Wolf looking at the crowd as she held the hand of Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden, the sole survivor of an entire Colonial Army Battalion caring for the sole survivor of an entire colony. Doctor Liara T'soni stood by Ash as Jannie looked to them, seeing how things had changed; how _they_ had changed. The not-so-friendly-with-aliens Soldier standing so close to a meek-and-timid Protheantologist, the both of them had grown in such a short period of time, both growing personally and grown together. Now Ash was sweet on an Asari Maiden, and Liara was a little more exuberant, a little more assured. Newt, that little girl that they had pulled from the very jaws of Death that had consumed so many, was never more than arms' length away from Ashley, a maternal bond forming between Soldier and child. If Newt wasn't with Ash, she was with Liara, and the Doctor seemed charmed at the thought of having such trust in a little Human girl. The both of them were growing committed to one another, which was a wonderful thing to see in such tumulus times, Jannie admitted to herself. But the way they doted upon little Rebecca Jorden? That touched her even deeper. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, with Scottie in tow yet Sara happily skipping alongside her Auntie, all smiles as they explored the Cit.

Jannie smiled at the sight as the three of them walked down the ramp, the little girl holding hands with both Soldier and Doctor, the nightmare of Hadley's Hope disappearing at the excitement of her first visit to the famed Citadel. That reminded the redhead of the request she had sent to Poppa Bear earlier.

Shepard stood as she watched her team go ashore, smiling at the sight of _her_ crew relaxing, that terrible burden seemingly disappearing as they stepped off the _Normandy_ and onto the Cit. No doubt there would be bars visited, glasses drained of alcohol, and temporary company visited in rather exotic locales. It was the life of a Sailor, normality removed and replaced with long tours of duty where ones' life was always at jeopardy. All the things that civilians did everyday and took for granted where crammed in a few short hours or a couple of days for those who served, making up for lost time by increasing the intensity of such acts. It left the impression that Sailors on shore were a rowdy bunch, barely-mannered grunts who seemed to have rash of poor decision-making skills. No, Jannie knew the truth of it, what those civilians didn't understand. Tomorrow wasn't a guarantee, the future a dark and foreboding thing. Sailors weren't making up for lost time.

This might be their last chance, and they were going to fully use it.

Everyone that was going to disembark had done so before the N7 took her leave, fully believing that as a Commissioned Officer and a Captain, her men came first in all things. She would be the last to leave the vessel, if only she could watch them and wish them well in their endeavors. Sara stayed by her side, of course, the Navy Corpsman still hurting on the inside from what happened on Feros. Jannie had said it a dozen times to the young woman how it wasn't her fault at all, but Ryder still felt responsible for what happened to the colonists and Marines in Hadley's Hope. That fucking Thorian… Jannie wished it were alive only so she could watch it burn to death again. A pity she wasn't there to watch ExoGeni burn.

"I see Shayla and Alixa." Sara said, seeing an Asari and a Turian in their respective Presidium General Medical Work Uniforms; a one-piece blue-and-white work suit for Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, and ERCS Light Barber-Surgeon Armor for Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis. Jannie had forwarded a message to the _Skybulance-37_ crew of Sara's impeding arrival, as well as Professor Irissa T'vara several hours before their arrival as well as their projected itinerary. Sadly, Irissa was currently off-station until Late Light, promising the Corpsman a nice, quiet evening with dinner and other couple-like activities. But Shayla and Alixa had come for their friend, Jannie having given them a barebones idea on what had happened and what Sara was suffering. Shepard knew that Sara could (and would) come to her, but the redhead wanted her friend to see that were others that believed in her, who would say the same things that Jannie was saying, but having more would certainly help. The Council Agent didn't doubt that there would be more than a few people the would help Sara; the Lady of the Chamber Eloa'Varis, Shayla, Alixa, Irissa, probably even those monstrous Quarian twins out in the crowd that look like they could break a Krogan in half. "Go. See your friends, kiddo. I know you need it."

"Thank you, Auntie." Sara replied, her normally effervescent voice dull, her blue eyes still tinted with grief. That fucking plant… God she wish she could burn it again for what it did to her friends, to her Sara. The young woman gave her a powerful hug, Jannie wrapping her arms around Sara fiercely, letting her know that her Auntie would always be there no matter what. Jannie watched as Sara disembarked the _Normandy_ , blinking away a tear as the Corpsman went to Shayla and Alixa, embracing the both of them. The N7 knew what would happen; Sara would tell them everything, to get that grief out of her soul. To think that Jannie hadn't really liked most non-Humans, but it had been Sara who had eventually changed her mind, making friends amongst them.

 _What does this say about Humanity, I wonder_ , as the Captain looked upon the sight of an Asari, a Turian, and a Human leaving together as if it were completely natural. _What can we be truly capable of if we all possessed your wonderful sense of courage, Sara?_

Jannie smiled as she turned to look at Federal Marshal Samantha Collins, still standing on the deck, nowhere else to really go, no one else to turn to.

"C'mon, Marse." The Lion told the Butcher, Sam's Turian-marked face turning towards her blandly. "Poppa Bear's got some stuff for us to help us relax, and no doubt he'll talk your ear off about the good old days. Be prepared for a few hours of war stories, jokes, and his sailing ship model collection. It's always worth it."

"That… sounds good, actually." The Marshal replied, her tone so… dead. Jannie wanted to help, but Sam had buried too much, been hurt too much. She didn't know what to do save bring her in a little closer and hopefully get her mind off the pain and losses for a few hours or so. It wasn't like herself or Sara, where they had a myriad amount of family members and former team members to fall back upon during those hard days. Sam had no one else. No one else but them.

Shepard wouldn't fail her; she had a promise to keep to her deceased mentor, after all.

* * *

 **Lead Chair, Skybulance-37, In-Flight, Middle Presidium Ring, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183**

Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis sat in the lead chair of _Skybulance-37_ , with her back to the direction of travel while sitting closest to the portside deployment door, her right shoulder facing the left side of the aerocraft as she looked upon her _full_ crew now, all six members that she knew and trusted with both of her hearts. Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis sat to her left, occupying the far seat by the starboard side deployment door, Emergency Rescue Technician Javis Latarius sitting in between them, the male Turian Flamefighter and former Hierarchy Damage Control Specialist tapping a talon on his knee to the beat of the Hierarchy martial music playing over the _Skybulances'_ speaker system. Across from Shayla was Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla, the Salarian male composing something on his Haptic keyboard for his OmniTool; probably writing out his FanFic about a brutal space war involving six different species and millions of lives, fighting against mutants, some robotic zombie army, and some monstrous green-skinned barbarians that shot everything in sight. Next to him was Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara, the Asari Maiden enthusiastically chatting up with the other sapient next to her.

Sara Elaine Ryder was sitting in her traditional seat, what the Human called 'the hellhole'.

Seeing the young Human Maiden in her seat, a position never filled since she had joined her Systems Alliance Navy only two short years ago, had Shayla's hearts swell with pride, the former Presidium General Hospital Emergency Medical Technician dressed in her Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniform instead of a Paramedic's uniform. It was hard not to see the haunted look in the Human female's blue eyes, the things that she must have seen since becoming a part of the crew of the SSV _Normandy_. Humanity was fighting a war with a species that the Council wanted _nothing_ to do with; the Geth. The facts of it all disturbed the Asarikin greatly, in a fashion that had the Citadel-born Asari very disquieted. When the Geth took over the Quarians' Homeworld of Rannoch and all of her colonies, the Council of Law and Chamber of Governance had elected to do absolutely nothing about it, leaving a huge potential threat while losing their holdings in the Terminus Sectors. For three centuries, absolutely nothing had been done about the issue as far as the public was aware, Citadel leadership content to leave the Geth be, and assuming that the Geth would return the favor.

How wrong they were, how so very wrong.

 _Over a hundred thousand dead on the colonial world of Eden Prime,_ Shayla thought to herself, having subscribed to the Alliance News Network (ANN) and Alliance Forces Network (AFN) when little Sara Ryder had enlisted, the Senior Emergency Care Technician keeping abreast with Earth Alliance Space as a means to keep up with her friend with more than just EN-Mails and Human Chirps. What the Human live reporters, talk hosts, speculators and commentators said of June Sixth (what they called ' _the Day of Infamy_ ') was a great deal more tragic and in greater depth than what the Citadel News Network (CNN) and ARTARVA was announcing. Yes, Humans could be passionate and dramatic in their news, and disgustingly so, but in this the Asari Matron understood; one of their worlds had been viciously attacked and brutalized. Amongst the galactic news channels, the attack on Constant, Eden Prime did not merit the headline, sometimes appearing halfway through an update segment or halfway down a media front page for the other species-ran media moguls. For Humanity's news, it was the leading story until what they called 'the Battle of LaGrange Point Two' where a Human Fleet had triumphed over an extremely large Geth Fleet, crippling one of their own fleets but utterly annihilating the Geth over the skies of Feros. Hierarchy Fleet News broadcasters had been practically giddy reporting the statistics of that battle, practically giving a shot-by-shot account of a brutal space battle in which, by all accounts, Humanity should have lost completely and utterly. The fact that a Human Fleet (in which Alliance Navy Fleets were smaller and lighter than the Fleets of the Republic, the Union, and the Hierarchy) had destroyed one-hundred and forty vessels, two of them Dreadnoughts at near-size of the _Destiny Ascension_? It was crest-boggling! And Sara had been a part of it!

CNN broadcasters were all agreeing that the so-called 'Human Problem' that the Council and Chamber had elected to call it was in fact being solved by Humanity alone, deeming the Council correct in their wisdom. But Shayla looked at the statistics that Humanity was reporting; the lives lost, the vessels lost, the price of the war they were fighting single-handedly against a synthetic species they had never interacted with before until June Sixth when the Geth assaulted Eden Prime, and her hearts shivered.

It was not a mere 'Human Problem', Council edict be damned. What would the Council and Chamber say if the Geth jumped right into the Widow System? Was the Citadel even prepared for such a threat?

Shayla watched as Asha and Sara chattered, as if no time had passed since the former Paramedic sat in her seat, two years evaporated in an instant as everyone had their chance to speak (and tease) their little Human companion. It was hearts-warming to see, and Talis knew little Sara needed it. Captain Jane Shepard had clued the Senior Emergency Care Technician of some of the things they had faced, from a Cruise Liner in which everyone had been killed (and yet TEAM LION had to kill something like four thousand of the opposition, the details understandably left vague), the Battle of LaGrange Point Two and the aftermath that the Navy Corpsman was 'elbows-deep in' (whatever that meant), and then Feros where Humanity lost practically everyone in a colony due to the Geth and another unnamed enemy. Captain Shepard was practically the bond-sister of Sara (though Humanity could not do such things, they saw each other in the same manner), and the Human Council Agent clued Shayla in that due to what happened at a 'Hadley's Hope', Sara and her small team had been very privy to an enemy action that a Human Special Forces Commando reported as being extremely horrific and disgusting, barely making it out alive. Their little Paramedic had not talked about it yet, obviously not ready to. But when she was, Shayla would be there to listen and support her.

The poor Maiden had suffered so much in her short, young life. Likely, she would suffer more.

The Skybulance went to a call, Talis taking it as the vessel was redirected to the Regency District of the Upper Presidium Ring where one of the intern staff members of the Asari Embassy had evidently decided to not pay attention where she was going and had gotten her hand slammed in between a set of closing doors. Flight Lieutenant Kaius Contenius got _Skybulance-37_ there in near record-breaking time (in which he held the record anyhow) to find the Maiden in question in the Embassy cradling a broken hand. The intern got her hand secured and stabilized before being escorted to the _Skybulance_ to be flown to Presidium General. Shayla noted how… quiet Sara was the whole time, doing a perfect job as always, but it was as if that special something that had the young Maiden full of zest and zeal was gone, replaced with something… a little more empty. After the call, it was their Mid-day Meal in which Contenius landed the Asari-designed _Shu'pris_ -'75 Cargo Transportation Vessel (Medical Class) upon the PresGen tarmac. Javis, Asha, Meeska, Kaius, and Alixa all went to the hospitals' galleria for their meal, but Shayla saw that Sara was just standing by the _Skybulance_ , seemingly staring at nothing.

"Sara?" The Senior Emergency Care Technician approached her friend, placing a gentle hand upon the Human Maiden's shoulder. Ryder jumped, obviously startled from her reverie, looking at Talis as if she were about to be bit by a shark before coming to her senses. The Matron knew what she was seeing, and it weighed heavily upon her hearts. The stress and the trauma of what she had been facing were weighing in on her, having faced so much in so little time, having to deal with something obviously horrific at such a young age for a Human. "Sara, I am here for you." The Asarikin smiled as she brought the Human close, embracing her as Sara's arms slowly went around the Matron's waist as she pressed her face into Talis' shoulder and began to sob, no words said but everything pouring out of her, the emotions and grief saying everything Shayla needed to know. She remembered well when Sara lost her mother, how she wept at the loss.

These were the same bitter tears.

 _Alec, you need to be here for your daughter,_ the Asari thought, the thought not pleasing her at all. Alec Ryder and herself had never truly gotten along, Sara's sire being rather xenophobic and unwilling to bite his tongue or his pride for the sakes' of his daughter. Having grown up on the Cit her entire life, Sara Ryder had a life that was immersed in the many cultures of the Citadel, much like Shayla's had, born on the Citadel herself. Yet Sara's sire, a First Contact War Veteran, and never truly warmed up or trusted a non-Human. There had been… incidences in the past that had hurt Sara due to her sire, though the daughter in her had forgiven him of such transgressions. Talis had no compunctions. At the least Scott Ryder was so much more like his sister. Shayla held her friend, the young Maiden she would have been proud to have called daughter as Sara wept into her shoulder, letting the stress and the grief run its course until the tears had run out.

"I'm… sorry." Sara pulled away a little to wipe at the tears in her eyes, looking ashamed.

"Do not be, my little Sara." Shayla smiled as she touched her forehead to the Humans' in a similar fashion that Turians did with friends and those they trusted. "This is what you need, and there are those who are willing to provide when you need it most."

"It's just… when we were taking care of that Maiden…" Sara began, looking a something at the distance behind the Emergency Care Technician, but the Matron recognized that Sara was not looking at anything outward but inward, "I just felt… bland, like going through the motions. Such things use to excite me, to be there when someone needed me. Now it feels like rote." Ah, that was part of the shame. Sara was now more attuned towards wounds of war, and something so benign such as a broken hand did not have the thrill that she once experienced as a Emergency Medical Technician.

"That is because you are a Human adult now, tested and proven, Sara." The Asari replied, looking into Sara's blue eyes. "Before? You learned at my side, worked at Alixa's side, relied on all of us for the times you were not so sure, enjoyed the camaraderie that we shared. It was what you knew, and it was enough. Now? You are no longer that Human child eager to prove herself. You have worked on your own, people relying on _you_. You have grown, dear Sara; you have accomplished what you wanted. Perhaps in a few years time you will seek activities such as this again for its stability, but for now? Your singular heart does not belong in a Skybulance, but on a Frigate, working with a team that calls you 'Doc'." That had Ryder nodding slowly, sniffling a little. "Sara, I am _proud_ of you. You have become a Navy Corpsman, what you wanted to be. You have earned yourself a place amongst an elite team, working along the best that see you as worthy of belonging. Yes, the path was hard and still fraught with its dangers, but in your heart you know where you belong."

"I know." Sara looked to her and this time it was the Maiden that pressed her forehead to Shayla's, holding it there for a long moment. "I just really hate losing people, and I've lost so many."

"How many more would have been lost without you? How many if you were not to continue?" That had the former Paramedic nodding in understanding, a slow smile coming to her rose-colored lips.

"I have a little sidekick now, actually. A trainee." Sara explained when Shayla shook her head at the word _sidekick_. Humans and their euphemisms! "Monica Negulesco. She was actually down on Feros with us, her first mission. She… she saved lives, too. Lives that I wouldn't have been able to save because there were two places to be and one of them…" Ryder's eyes snapped shut as she practically swayed on her feet. Talis knew a traumatic episode when she saw one. "Thank God she didn't have to face that. Would have lost her if our places had been reversed, I think."

"Then why do you wish to compound what you faced with guilt, Sara? Whatever it was, I know it was not your fault, not anything that you did wrong."

"I worked so hard on saving those people, Shayla!" Tears were threatening her eyes again, the tide of grief coming strong. "I spent _hours_ fixing those Marines so they had a chance! I went into that compound to check on the colonists, to see to them! I faced horrors to pull them out and _I failed!_ " The grief crashed to shore as the tears came, but there were no sobs. So this was what Captain Shepard had been eluding to. It made sense now; Sara did not brook failure, finding ways to succeed. But in this, there was no other recourse, and she felt like she did not accomplish her duties.

"Dear one, we all fail. Sometimes spectacularly." The Asarikin replied, wiping away one of the Human Maidens' tears with her thumb. "I seem so competent now because I have two centuries worth of experience. Alixa is the utter professional now, but you should have seen her first three years, jumping out of the _Skybulance_ every time as if we were under attack. I bet if you ask your Monica Negulesco? She would say that the sun rises and sets with you, her seeing the kind of woman she wishes to be _in you_." Sara looked a little shocked at that. "The only true failure is _not_ _learning_ from failure. It is, after all, the greatest teacher and the best motivator."

"I just wish it didn't come with such a steep price." The Human sighed, though her eyes did not seem so haunted now.

"We all wish that, little one." Shayla replied honestly. "You are a full Maiden now, and while you knew that the galaxy can be a cruel and unforgiving place, it is now a very harsh reality that you visit everyday as oppose to generally know of from a distance. Yet in that same location, you can make a true difference as well. For only in the worst waves can one really know what one is truly capable of."

* * *

 **Luigi's Multi-Ethnic Restaurant, Shoreside District, Block 0840 (Mid-Ward), Zakera Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183**

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) decided that the best way to treat her team was to take them all out to dinner. Some of them even brought plus ones.

Luigi's was a restaurant that was a symbol of Man's progress on the Citadel; a multi-cultural restaurant where one could order Earth-oriented food, Sur'kesh-oriented food, Thessian-oriented food, Palaven-oriented food, and the others as well, promoting on a tagline of '#Check This Out! #Check Us Out!', offering discounts if a patron ordered something not of their species (obviously, opposing chilary foods were not served to avoid lawsuits). If one worked in a diverse workplace or had friends of different species, Luigi's was one of the best places to go to, to have everyone fed without having to spit out their food and asking what the cook was thinking. Its decor was oriented towards an ancient theme known as Retro-50's Diner, where the chief colors were red and chrome, fiber optic line strands contained passing bubbles, and an honest-to-goodness jukebox existed in one corner playing classical music of ten different homeworlds. Jannie had been here on several occasions as a kid and loved the theme and the food. And it was really the best place to have a large dinner with six different species involved. She had called ahead with the reservations and had gotten an area staked out for a party numbering thirty with RSVP's from the various team members of TEAM LION, some coming with dates or friends. It was exactly what Jannie had hoped for.

"So what's the pot at now, Loot?" Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams directed towards 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko, both dressed in civilian clothing and sitting across from one another. "Sara won the last round with her choice."

"Eight hundred Credits total for each team member, and I got Vasquez's guess as well as Doc's next guess." The Explosive Ordinance Disposal member replied, and the N7 pursed her lips as the random conversations of TEAM LION came, but she found herself focusing on the two Humans that sat to her left and right as she manned the head of the tables that were pushed together vertically. "Jean picked Turian Cop, and Sara picked Asari Sister of the Order of Justice."

"What _are_ you two talking about?" Shepard asked, curious.

"Oh! We've got a team pool for the next member of TEAM LION." Ash replied, making Shepard boggle for a moment. "Started when Sara Chirped us about Sam before we knew who it was, and the XO won that one. Sara got Round Two with Human Marine. Everyone puts up fifty Credits and selects their idea of our next knuckle-dragger." That had the Lieutenant snort. "Species and profession have to match, and if you don't get the spread, you only get half for only being half-right and the rest gets added to the next round. Doc picked Human Marine and we got Jeanette Vasquez. Now we're on Round Three."

"You're betting on the next lifeform I'm putting on my ship?" Jannie asked pointedly, making Kaidan cough uncomfortably.

"Well, duh, yeah!" Williams replied with a grin on her face. "Half the Ops Alley, the entire Engineering Team, and about a quarter of the Gunners' are in on it, too. I think Sara won like twenty-four hundred Credits. I'm still waiting for mine to pop up. It'd be hysterical."

"Do I even want to know?" The N7 asked, a little amused. If the Navy didn't have drinking and betting pools, Sailors would likely do something even more stupid. Honestly, she wouldn't mid getting in just for fun but she knew she couldn't; she was, after all, the final authority for said inclusion.

"BLASTO. A Hanar SPECTRE." Several people at the tables overheard Ash's comment and were chuckling.

"You know there _are_ Hanar SPECTREs, right?" Detective Garrus Vakarian said from further down the table, sitting next to his 'date', Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis of _Skybulance-37_. "I don't think any are Level Threes, but I've met a Hanar Level One Council Agent. I believe he was a hacktivist."

"A gun in every tentacle, a lover at every port." Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss hooted from even further down the table, calling out the tagline for the _Blasto!_ movie.

"Don't joke about that, I had to pull an Elcor dildo out of a Hanar's bum." Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder replied, sitting next to Professor Irissa T'vara, the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies for the University of Serrice having arrived an hour before.

"Wai… what?" Corporal Jeanette Vasquez boggled from across the Navy Corpsman. "Like, seriously?"

"We're not hearing that story again over the dinner table." Vakarian replied, Trevalis chuckling next to him. Jannie remembered that Alixa had actually been there for that 'procedure'. "Or the one about the Krogan who ate a full three-course Turian formal affair on a bet. That was just Spirits-be-damned disgusting."

"Do I want to know?" Seaman Monica Negulesco asked, sitting beside Vasquez, the Hospital Corpsman perking up.

"Probably puked out his own gizzard to scrape away the leftovers before shoving it back in." Urdnot Wrex commented, sipping Hanar tea of all things.

"Sadly, he isn't exaggerating." Sara replied, her face sour. "First time I saw that, I thought I was going to do the same. Don't even begin to ask me where in evolution thought it was a good idea to be able to turn your gut inside out while dangling from out of your mouth."

"Ewww!" Ash croaked. " _Wayyy_ too much info, Doc. I'm looking forwards to my Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo, thank you very much!" That had just about everyone at the table laughing as Jannie smiled. They needed this, all of them. She looked over to see that Marshal Sam Collins was actually talking a little to Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, though the Federal Marshal and Level Two Council Agent had been mostly quiet. Jannie had brought her along to go visit Poppa Bear, and right on cue Read Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson had swept up the Butcher figuratively and started shooting the shit with her, telling stories and lies as Sailors were wont to do, usually his own escapades that ended hilariously. They both had spent several hours in the Special Tactics And Reconnaissance Section (STARS) Office, getting to know the men and women who worked under Poppa Bear, Global Bureau of Investigation Agents and Office of Naval Intelligence Officers along with Yeomen and Dataware Specialists that manned Humanity's SPECTRE Office. Jannie wanted to spend time with those men and women so that she would know who they were as well as for them to see whom _they_ were serving as well. She had her own office (a room and a desk with a terminal, undecorated since she was off on missions) and it was there that she finally got Sam a little out of her funk by having the Marshal teach her something things about the Office of Special Tactics and some other activities and avenues that a SPECTRE would use in such times. But there was a call that Shepard had made that had Collins reel a little bit but in a good fashion, getting the Marshals' help to both include the woman and to give her mind something positive to do.

Jannie looked to where Ash sat with Doctor Liara T'soni, the two of them slightly separated by the inclusion of a young Human child in between them, Newt gossiping and chattering away with anyone and everyone. Somehow the kid had gotten _Urdnot Wrex_ to open up and give her a piggyback ride on top of his hump. That had been a sight. Seeing Ash dote on the little girl really was endearing, and Shepard knew that Williams was doing her best to spend as much time as possible with Newt as she could for the simple fact that there was no way that Jannie would let a minor be included on a warship, much less with the mission that the _Normandy_ was on.

Which was why Jannie (and Sam) got into contact with one Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson.

Dinner was served, and Shepard watched on as she saw her crew dig in, the horrors of the past week slowly slipping away as banter and cat-calling ensued while people at their dinners. A year ago, she never would have guessed she would have been the host to a multi-species dinner, that she would actually enjoy the event. But now? Now she was glad. She remembered how she felt when Council Agent Nihlus Kryik first told her that she had been selected as a SPECTRE Candidate, how it proved how far her species had come along in such a short period of time. But in reality… it was her that had come along, growing into the kind of person that the galaxy needed in such times. Yes, Jannie represented what Humanity _could_ do, but her strength didn't just come from herself. It was with those that sat in front of her, her diverse and eclectic crew that had slogged through the worst that the galaxy had thrown at them, facing such threats together. Being an N helped, but the redhead knew that strength came from the willingness to push forward to prove oneself for more than just personal reasons and ambitions; the Villa had certainly taught her that, especially the N1 Course. She had learned the difference of what a species _could_ do and what a species could be _capable_ of.

 _Nihlus, I wish you could be here to see what you helped created_ , Jannie thought to herself as she lifted her glass of beer, poured a small amount onto the restaurant floor in libations, and drank to his memory.

* * *

 **Illola Water Gardens, Meridian Place, Presidium Commons, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183**

Commander Mark Gerald Vanderloo walked down the white boulevard that was Meridian Place, passing by the shops and kiosks of the affluent marketplace as he headed down a series of stairs and towards a balcony that was a part of a bridge to where he could see a redheaded Human female in a Systems Alliance uniform standing at the railing, overlooking the Asari-created Illola Water Gardens, where one could find a small beach that _wasn't_ a beach and the Elcor Unity Statue in the middle commemorating when the Thessians and Dekunnans formally signed treaties where the Elcor Dekunnan Confederacy became a client-state of the Asari Thessian Republic. He knew that he would find her here, her favorite spot. In another life, he suspected that she might have had a green thumb.

"Hey, Jane."

"Hey, Mark." Captain Jane Shepard turned to look at him for a moment, having leaned her elbows on the railing of the bridge to peer into the Water Garden, Mark leaning against it sideways to look at his Commanding Officer while spying what appeared to be an Asari family walking the gravel-lined paths of the Gardens. He knew why she loved this place; seeing families. It reminded Jane of the times when she took Sara and Scott Ryder when they were kids. It also made her think of what it would have been like if _her_ family had been whole, her father alive and her mother not nearly so career-oriented. "Knew I'd be here, didn't you?"

"You talked about this place on more than a few occasion, and mentioned that it was a place that you'd visit whenever you wanted some peace and quiet to reflect." Not that Meridian Place was quiet at all; store-tenders and hawkers trying to interest wealthy customers and entertain visitors while lightbanner advertisements and streamers decorated the air in the corridors or above the shops and stores. No, the peace and quiet didn't come from the outside but the inside. "After what we've face, it was the first place I thought that you'd be at this time of night." Night was subjective on the Citadel; being the center of the known universe, it never did sleep. The Presidium's luminosity never changed despite the cycle of day, an eternal day in the eternal night of space. It was approximately 2200 hours _Zulu_ , and everyone's schedules were a little out of whack thanks to the previous week and at least three different time difference between Feros, the Arc, and the Cit. Liberty was set, but many of the crew members of the _Normandy_ were using their own quarters for room-and-board for the evening so they wouldn't be straight out robbed by the many different hotels available on the Cit. A few were likely out drinking and doing their best to find some night-time companionship, or in Sara's case, having a 'sleepover'. "What's bothering you? Okay, correction, I can guess at a few things." Shepard merely smiled wanly at him. "Sara the big one?"

"Yeah." The redhead admitted, her face going dark. "Mark… I fully thought she was going to die in my arms. I know it was the right call to make, and I know that Sara would even agree with me… but I still had to make that call." Jane's eyes closed as she obviously relived that moment in which she had ordered him to have no less than five vessel to bombard the area they were in with orbital strikes, kinetically destroying the cavern buried beneath the surface. Mark knew that feeling well; he'd thought he might be killing Jane, Sara, and a portion of TEAM LION, but he knew that Shepard wouldn't have made that call unless there was no other option. _Gigantic man-eating plant the size of a Destroyer_ certainly qualified the use of Naval fire.

"Jane… we got lucky, so enjoy it." Vanderloo replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, getting her to look at him. "We got our crew out of there with one loss against how many Geth and whatever else that thing threw at you. We managed to pull out survivors. And you buried that thing that was at the heart of it all in a lake of lava. I know it isn't a comfort, but we managed. It could have been so much worse, after all."

"I know, Mark." Jane replied with a whisper, her green eyes going back to the Garden. "God, if I had to bury her… I don't know if I could do this. It's one thing to say that I can make the kind of calls that most would never be able to make, the kind of things they expect out of us N's. But putting Sara in the line of fire _kills_ me at the same time that I know that I _need_ her, that my team _needs_ her. Did… did you ever felt that way? Feel that way now?" Jane had never asked that question before, not when they were married.

"When we were married? Every single time for the first couple years." Mark admitted, thinking back to those days when Shepard was in a hard-tempo with an NCT Unit geared towards fast-response as oppose to vessel assaults, urban ops, or hostage rescue. She had a four month ship-out, four months of training/technique reinforcement, and four months of garrison-like duties that generally involved the lighter version of the other eight months. Their first year of marriage, Mark had seen Jane all of two months concurrently. The second year it was about two and a half. By the third year, Mark had hardly felt he was married at all for the little he ever got to see of his wife, not to mention that his own rotations generally meant that they were lucky if they got to see each other at all. Both hadn't completed their initial eight years of service requirement for Commissioned Officers, and it was generally 'suggested' that N's do at least ten, though most normally were already in for four to six years before being recommended for _Villa Militar_.

Jane had been an Ensign about to get her j.g., hot off of her success on Elysium when he proposed to her days before she got her orders to go to the ICT School in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. Hell, he spent more consecutive time with Jane on the _Normandy_ than he had during any portion of their marriage, having seen her day in and day out for the past month save a couple. There had never been a month when they were together when they were married. Between Elysium, Shepard being an N, and him being a Commissioned Officer in the Navy during the Skyllian Blitz, there was little time for a marriage, and the little they got seemed interrupted. Despite it all, they ended up a part of that high statistic of military divorces due to stretches of absences and lonely nights.

"Y'know, I always said I'd never do what _the Admiral_ did to me." Vanderloo winced at the reference to Rear Admiral Hannah Singer and the acts that drove mother and daughter apart. "But I did it with you. Elysium, the Teams, the Blitz… it just seemed that I was always needed, and I _hated_ the thought of saying no, of saying 'I have a husband I haven't seen in almost a year' with the Blitz running hot. It just… seemed more important at the time."

"Hey." Mark moved in and wrapped his arms around his ex-wife, holding her close to give her the comfort she needed, being there for her when she needed it. Propaganda and vids all loved to espouse on the amazingness of N's and warriors, especially with the badly-made ones led by some actress-portrayed heroine that was a bare veil of Shepard without having to pay for the rights in using her name, image, or whatever else. But N's were just like anyone else; they were Human. They had feelings, grief, guilt, hopes, and dreams. Some had families to come home to. Some had those families torn apart by their service and duties for whatever myriad of reasons. Jane rested her head against his chest as he held her, and he heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and her felt her _relax_ , to let the worries wash away for a moment and been that girl he remembered; the intelligent wallflower that was practically _dying_ to shine, for a peer to take notice of _her_. Elysium had changed her, had made Jane do her best to be a hero for their people following a terrible event and at the precepts of a war. She tried being like her father, Lieutenant Commander John Shepard, the Hero of Shanxi.

Mark wished she could go back to being that Jane of old.

* * *

 **Domicile 2209, Celice Park Tower, Ringside District, Block 0220 (Skyward), Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183**

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder walked alongside Professor Irissa T'vara as they entered into the arcade of Celice Park Tower where her domicile resided on the twenty-second floor, shyly having her arm in Irissa's as they walked together into the complex's breezeway bazaar where a few small restaurants and residential-oriented businesses existed to cater to the towers' residents as well as those who might be passing by. They had just finished the crew dinner at Luigi's, followed by a nice little outing involving going through a more art-oriented area in the Zakera Wards, passing by galleries where one could find cultural art on display, everything from trinkets with a taste of a homeworld to statues. The Rannochian-born Asari had showed Sara a series of oil-based paintings that had caught her fancy done by an Asarikin painter by the name of Celiai Culanis, one that specialized in Thessia nature paintings, plying her trade by taking her stock with her and hiking out to vistas before finding one that pleased her and setting up her equipment to memorialize whatever she had found in oil and canvas. Sara knew what Thessia looked like thanks to the myriad of stills and pics, as well as vids and shows that would display views of Armali or Serrice, generally panning around the Temple of Athame to give a skyline of the city of Serrice that surrounded it, the structure of the Goddess galaxy-famous. But seeing nature paintings had been different from most, where most Asari displayed the metropolitan feel of Serrice, Armali, and Attena. Sara immediately saw what had appealed to Irissa, a particular series of paintings that even had the Navy Corpsman viewing it with wonder.

"Is that… Jynessa T'mala?" Sara asked, looking at the subject of a nude Asari huntress in the wild, seemingly stalking prey in the fields, clothed in mud and vegetation with a Light-Lance in hand. The Asari in the painting was young, nearly Maidency age when an Asarikin when from Youngling to Maiden at the age of sixty-five. She completely lacked any centurymarks… and clothes, though that itself wasn't unusual for an Asari on Thessia or for certain activities where such things were proper for the Asarikin. There were sports and activities where being nude was completely acceptable upon Thessia and her sister colonies, though the Asari forwent that tradition in more diverse holdings, understanding that the rest of the galaxy did not view trapezing about naked as proper. Yet this young Huntress was covered in mud and camouflaged with plant matter to blend her in with the surroundings, her determined face looking at something off-painting with concentration as she held her Light-Lance in a ready grip, ready to let fly to hunt and kill her prey, the weighted end of the hunting weapon containing a nugget of Eezo so an Asari could use her Biotics to pull the weapon back long before the advent of the Biotic Amplifier. The posture of the Asari, the way she staked through the grass and trees, the attention to detail and the way the oil displayed the mud covering of her body made it almost feel as if Sara had walked onto the scene herself.

"It is." The Professor replied, smiling. "Celiai did perhaps two dozen paintings of Jynessa in her youth during one of her hunts. They were quite popular even before the Sunset Wars." Ryder knew that Jynessa T'mala was pretty much the Asari version of her Auntie, perhaps even more so. The daughter of one of the greatest commandos to have ever lived, Jynessa had fought against the Sisterhood of the Eclipse during a coup attempt upon the Serrice Council, the group of mercenary war trainers wishing to implement laws and policies that would relax certain restrictions, such as sapient trafficking of certain degrees as well as the relaxation of certain contraband laws, mainly narcotics. Jynessa T'mala had been a member of the Sisterhood, a lauded member of the company her _aithntar_ created to help defend Thessia and the Republic, fighting her own sisters and _mother_ to save the Republic her sire had defended a dozen times over from its enemies, both external and internal. Jynessa was a _very_ popular figure amongst the Asari, and Maiden commandos and huntresses practically threw themselves at the opportunity to train or work along with the Maelstrom of Thessia. Sara had actually met her once years ago during a function, a five-hundred year old living legend that the Asari practically fawned upon, even near-millennium Matriarchs deferring to a Matron that many considered the greatest warrior alive. A master of the Light-Lance, the Songblade, and the _shuwani_ blade, Jynessa's reputation as _the_ expert of melee combat wasn't greatly exaggerated, as Sara understood it. The Asari didn't have many enemies; damn near all of them never survived her.

The evening wore on when Irissa and Sara went to return to the Professors' domicile, passing through the arcade, Sara noting a few Asari Maidens scowling at the sight of an Asari Matriarch arm-and-arm with a Human female in a way that _didn't_ suggest that Sara was some sort of pet or _connessa_ ; the Asari idea of a pleasure object, like a courtesan or prostitute. Matriarchs were suppose to be with their own kind with a trail of Matrons and Maidens obeying her wishes, some pet Turian or another serving as an 'escort' while another, generally a Maiden, served as her object of sating. No, Irissa was none of these things, singular but with someone in a relationship like a Matron was suppose to do, breeding like a rabbit with others for 'genetic diversity'. Sara had never believed that illusion for a moment, knowing that an Asari was practically _expected_ to have at least a family of five with a variety of _aithntars_ to 'further diversify' Thessians amongst the galaxy. Sergeant Ashley Williams had mentioned something like this to her, calling it genetic theft; something Sara had realized back in the Presidium Academy of Education. Irissa treated her like an equal, not some near-millennial Matriarch surrounded by mere mortals to serve upon her every whim. The scorn emanating from the various Asari seeing Irissa and Sara walking together, arm-and-arm, had the Corpsman feeling smug.

They entered into the lobby as a couple (earning a few more scornful looks) and took to the turbolift that would bring them to the level that Irissa lived on. The privacy of the lift was a blessing-in-disguise as the Human female turned to face her lover, slipper her hands around the Asari's robed waist and giving her a passionate kiss while waiting for the conveyance to arrive at their destination. It had been just over ten days since she had seeing Irissa last, but those ten days had been filled with a lifetime of grief and woe. Sara wasn't one for public displays of affection, giving the Professor a chaste kiss when meeting her at the Thessian Republic Common Docks at the Bachjret Enders a few hours prior. Now that they had privacy, Sara was going to show just how much she missed the Matriarch in more ways than one. Irissa certainly wasn't fighting the act, either.

"How I missed you, dear one." Irissa smiled with the kiss was done, her yellow centurymark'ed face looking at Sara with a smile, obviously meaning what she said. "It is not easy knowing that you are out there in the black, engaging those who wish to hurt your kind, wondering and worrying."

"I know, I use to be the same way with my Dad." Ryder replied, resting her head against Irissa's shoulder. "I honestly don't know how Mom was able to do it for years. I wish I had asked her."

"I believe we all have our ways of enduring, dear Sara." The young woman looked up to the Protheantologist as Irissa caressed her cheek with a gentle thumb. "But for now, there is no need to endure. You are here with me, and that is what matters most." The lift doors opened to reveal a pair of Salarian males on the other side, Sara automatically stepping away from her paramour out of public politeness, a more Human response than what Asari normally did, though thankfully Irissa seemed to understand. The two males (by their skin patterning, they were likely clutch-brothers) entered the turbolift as it resumed its travel upward, Sara trying not to blush as he two Salarians stood their mutely, absolutely pretending that that hadn't walked into anything. The lift arrived at the twenty-second floor where both Human and Asari exited the conveyance and made their way to the Professor's domicile. There was something on the door of Domicile 2209 that had Sara slow her pace as she saw what appeared to be…

"Is that… a yellow ribbon on your door?" Sara asked breathlessly as she turned to look at Irissa, feeling her eyes go wide.

"Yes it is, dear one." The Protheantologist replied, smiling at her as Sara felt the rug pulled from beneath her feet figuratively. _Does she know what that means?_

"My… Mother use to keep one on our door whenever Dad was on mission." Sara said slowly, remembering that when she and Scottie got older, they would help with the tradition. "It was an American tradition that started with a year-long hostage crisis, though there are songs about tying a ribbon around the old oak tree. Not too many of those on the Cit. Did… did you look up what it meant?"

"I did, and it was confusing. Even for an archaeologist." That had Sara snort but smiling all the while. "As I understand it, when a soldier goes to war," the Asari Professor moved closer to slip her arms around Sara, "their mate would have or hang a yellow ribbon to declare their love to their warrior while praying for their safe return. I thought you would appreciate."

"I… I do." Sara had to blink away tears, feeling them threatening her blue eyes. "No one's ever done that for me before." It was an old Human tradition that had been revived with the Blitz. Sara and Scottie had done it for their Dad, and after Elysium they had done it for Jannie, too. It wasn't necessarily for a lover; it could mean a family member, too. Mom hadn't been able to do it when her twin children were in Boot Camp, being too sick to even stay at home. But if she had been able to, Sara knew there would have been two ribbons on the door. Seeing a yellow ribbon on Irissa's door, knowing that it was meant to represent her? An Asari following a Human tradition? To say that Ryder was touched was putting it mildly. "You… you're good to me, Irissa. I really and truly mean that." She wanted her Asari mate to know that, to know what Irissa meant to her. It times such as these, those feelings were something worth holding onto. Especially after what happened on Feros. "Let me show you.

"Just… not in the hallway."

* * *

Author's Note: This is a different vein of story from the past several ARCs; this focuses on the price of war, the human condition, and trauma. It won't be doom and gloom, but people finding resolve and comfort in others (platonic and otherwise). While a portion will be about Sara and Jannie, Sam and a few others will be focused on.

Just who the hell is Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson? Technically ( _very_ technically) she is a canon character. You'll be seeing her later.

I touched a little on Jane and Mark's null-and-void marriage. Military divorces are something like 500% more than their civilian counterparts (probably around the same percentage as cops and firefighters).

Jynessa T'mala is an OC from the Peacemaker Series that didn't get used in the story "The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand". The brief bio I did was what I used to explain why she would have joined Sam Collins and the STARS Team to fight the Agents of CHAOS after a double assassination of the Salarian Councilors (outgoing and incoming at the same time). In this universe, she is believed (by the Asari) to be the deadliest warrior alive in the galaxy, and she is rather venerated throughout the rest of the galaxy as someone not to casually fuck with. She even comes with her own superhero name! You will see her later.

Light-Lance - A unique weapon I created, it is a spear with a small nugget of Eezo in the pommel for Ancient Asari to 'pull' back game and enemies, much like Scorpion's rope dart from _Mortal Kombat_ save with Biotics.

Songblade - From Dara's Asari Wikia, it is a disk-like weapon with quills surrounding it (like a frisbee ninja star, but used like Xena's hoops) that was thrown and 'steered' with Biotics at rather ridiculous ranges. Imagine if Captain America's shield had razor blades coming out of it!

Aithntar - Stolen from _LogicalPremise's_ 'Of Sheep And Battle Chicken' Series, it is the 'father' name for an Asari. Considering they're 'monogendered', they wouldn't have a masculine name for the sire of a child, something that LogicalPremise and _Meytal's_ 'The Spirit Of Redemption' highlight well (though Meytal uses an Asari word that equals 'not-mother').

The Yellow Ribbon - Actually… this is a Puritan thing that has come up many times throughout American History, going as far back as at least the American Civil War. I mention that it 'started' with a hostage crisis (the Iranian Hostage Crisis of 1979-81, which it did gain national recognition for the 444 day political siege between America and Iran, people hanging yellow ribbons to pray for their safe return), though there have been songs ( "Tie A Yellow Ribbon 'Round The Old Oak Tree") and movies ( "Around Her Neck She Wore A Yellow Ribbon" with John Wayne). There are folk songs dating back to the Confederacy in the American Civil War. But the 'major' usage of the Yellow Ribbon became prominent during the Persian Gulf War in 1991, when America sent a quarter of a million troops to liberate and protect Kuwait from Iraqi aggression. Today, you see it as cute magnets on people's cars displaying "Support Our Troops". I wonder how much money random companies made selling these without donating anything to the cause of soldiers, sailors, or their family members?

My mom had a yellow ribbon tied around the tree of our front lawn for me. I remembered how touched I was when I first saw it coming home for R+R for my first tour. My oldest daughter did it for me, too. I wanted to highlight that a little, as well as the way it made me felt. Yes, I cried.

Look up the history and see how the Yellow Ribbon has changed throughout the years, from a man putting a ribbon around a woman's hair to tell other men not to be Jodie, to a convicts' wife welcoming her paroled husband's return, the other old 'favors' that a woman would make for her tourney knight to give him luck (the ribbon would be tied around a locket of her hair, a personal memento). Now it seems to be a marker for campaigns (from breast cancer to killing zombies).

Copyright stuff

"Only Human" by Christina Perri. Her voice fits the haunting theme of this song perfectly.


	42. Being Human, II

" _Other little girls wanted to be princesses. I wanted to be an N7 Operative." - Captain Jane Catherine Shepard_

 **Domicile 2209, Celice Park Tower, Ringside District, Block 0220 (Skyward), Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183**

Author's Note: There will be a… pretty damn accurate description of a PTSD moment with Sam's portion. It is based off of one of my own.

And I've essentially completed NaNoWriMo in 7 days, doing +7,000 words a day for a week. Halfway to target of 100k words in a month.

And happy N7 Day! 10 years of Killing the Xeno! (Jersey… that's Warhammer 40K.) Check out the disclaimer. So totally stole that from a shirt on ThinkGeekDotCom.

* * *

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder woke up in the bed of Professor Irissa T'vara, her eyes slowly opening up to see the fresco of Ancient Thessia on the ceiling, the lights of the domicile slowly glowing warmer and brighter for the coming day as the young Human female enjoyed the pleasant feel of the warming field of the bed as she looked to her side to see Irissa laying there, slowly coming to wakefulness herself as cyan eyes opened to look at her and her teal lips widened into a smile. Sara was sure she had been dreaming, but the sight of the Asarikin Matriarch laying beside her erased all thoughts of possible dreams or nightmares that she might have had concerning the past week.

"G'morning." The young Human female said, her voice groggy with sleep as she slid herself closer to her bedmate, feeling Irissa's arms slipping around her, holding her closely as Sara felt the Protheantologists' body pressing into her from behind as they cuddled, a blue hand sliding under her head to encompass her while the other slid over her flank and down the rigid muscles of her abdomen, making the Corpsman shiver slightly from the sensation of that hand against her skin. An Asari's hand wasn't like a Human's hand; the texture of their skin was different, finely scaled where it was almost like the skin of a snake, though smoother. The feel of someone having laid by her side as she slept was one that she wasn't use to, and yet the sensation was one that she found endearing, having shared a bed with someone she cared for, someone she trusted with more than just her body. _Is… is this what being married is like?_ She wished she could have asked her Mom about such things, though Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder wouldn't have been too keen about seeing her little girl with an alien. Sara remembered well what had driven both herself and Detective Garrus Vakarian apart, mutually agreed upon due to both sets of family members; Garrus' family had been just as thrilled as her father had been, though… Sara actually wondered it Hespera Vakarian had actually been disapproving of her son dating and mating with a Human as Garrus' sire and sister Solona had been. She shook off the memory of that disaster, enjoying the moment. _I could get use to this_ , Sara thought to herself with a smile as she snuggled into Irissa's embrace, turning her head so the Asari could kiss her lips, the tingling sensation of their Biotics interacting together thrilling her.

"Any plans for breaking fast?" Sara asked as she felt her stomach growl, feeling a little amused at the sight of the Protheantologists' face looking at her growling belly, almost alarmed by the sound it was making. "Going out, or staying in?"

"If we stay in, you might see me as a meal." The Professor replied wryly, her turquoise lips smiling lopsided.

"That was last night, honey. And I don't remember you complaining." That had her mate smile, obviously remembering the previous night. "Either works for me, as long as there is coffee involved."

Breakfast ended up at a local Asari-oriented bistro where Sara ordered a bowl of Thessian-imported oats and nuts rolled into sweetened syrup and baked into cluster crumbles, with sweetcream poured into the bowl to make a cereal-like breakfast with the addition of _golash_ yogurt berries to top it off. It was somewhat late in the Light Cycle on the Cit, so the bistro was fairly packed with Asarikin and their mates and families, Sara having seen Matrons with Younglings in tow, or gaggle of Maidens having breakfast together. There were a few non-Thessians at the open-air restaurant that Ryder spied while waiting at the table that she and Irissa shared, a Salarian here, a Hanar there, and surprisingly a suited Quarian male. That made Sara recall that Irissa's sire was a Quarian _female_ , a musician. She had been born on Rannoch, a century or so after their discovery. Sara wondered if Irissa had been Firstborn or not on Rannoch, or the first Quarian-born Thessian. The Professor had lived on Rannoch for the first five decades of her life before her sire passed away from old age, Irissa and her mother moving to Thessia shortly afterwards. When Irissa had turned seventy-five, she joined the Thessian Republican Guard as a Sister Hospitallar, and then had gone to the University of Serrice after a quarter-decade of service to her species to become a Protheantologist. During one of her expeditions a few centuries later, she lost her Homeworld when the Geth overthrew and overtook the planet of her birth. Much like the Quarians, she would never be able to return home.

Their conversation remained light and bantering, mostly about what Professor T'vara had been doing since Therum, more than just Chirper updates and EN-mails that she and Sara sent nightly or near enough depending on missions. The University of Serrice was dealing with the fallout of the attack on Therum by the Geth, though thankfully the fact that the entirety of both the Serrice Team and the Oxford Team came out without a casualty softened the blow of the loss of Dig Site Alpha and the assistance of the Systems Alliance Government thanks to the full-swing efforts of the SA Parliament shoring up the Fleets and Marines to protect the Human colonies and not scientific endeavors. Irissa was dealing that that very backlash, the backroom politics of blame and backpedaling making her profession and occupation difficult. Expeditions required funding to operate, and funding wouldn't come if there wasn't any planned expeditions. Plus the so-called 'failure' of Dig Site Alpha on Therum was having investors backpedaling. Irissa was trying to alleviate fears and getting financial support to continue research on the few things they were able to excavate from Therum before the attack on June Fifteenth, not to mention the data, reports, scans, and transfers that were made. Basically, the Asari Professor was having to make promises with scraps and leftovers. Sara didn't envy her or her position.

"Hey," Sara reached over to place her hand on the Matriarch's, knowing that she herself wasn't the only one facing difficulty and adversity, "I believe in you, honey. You're passionate about your work, and that's one of your best selling points. You aren't out there trying to make a Credit or splash your name all over the news. You're a believer, and it shows. That makes people believe in you. Don't be afraid to show them a little of that belief and adventurous spirit. Sure you might not win them all, but get a few on board, and others will slide off that fence and towards your direction. You show them what you have been able to procure in a short period of time, let them know that the Dig Site is closed off for only a period of time, and let them know of some of the things you were working on and hoped to achieve. Doctor T'soni did discover that security system that helped protect the evacuation route from the Geth. That alone would interest Turians and Salarians. Especially in a time of war."

"And who am I to argue with an Alumni of the Academy?" The Protheantologist said with a smile, a sparkle in her eye. "It is a plan that I have been working on, but you are right about one thing; it is my voice that they will listen to, not necessarily what it is I have to say." Her teal hand gripped Sara's, and the young Human woman felt… good about this. She had gone to Irissa because she needed the Asari's help after her time on Feros, the trauma she had suffered at the grips of the Thoi'han. But she was contributing too, able to help out the Asari that she was in love with with her passion and profession. Being there for one another… it meant something to both of them, and for that Sara felt a little of that guilt and grief return. So many lives had been lost on Feros, hopes and dreams ended. Yet… it had been ExoGeni that had created the situation, that had began the dialog and scenario that led to the Thoi'han's overrunning of Hadley's Hope. She had been as much a victim as those colonists and those Marines, just like Ash, Sam, Raeka, and James. She couldn't blame her friends for what happened; they weren't responsible. Just like Irissa wasn't to blame for what happened at Dig Site Alpha; that had been the Geth's doing, orchestrated somehow by Saren Arterius.

The pain was there still, but Sara looked to the Asari she loved and squeezed her teal-colored hand.

"I think I'm going to be okay." The Corpsman said, a few small tears escaping, but smiling all the same. "Won't be easy, but I think I'll get there."

"Good, I am glad, dear one." Irissa replied, lifting Sara's hand to give her knuckles a chaste kiss. "Because I intend to help you get there."

* * *

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams started her day in a more unusual fashion than normal. First, she didn't wake up in a Colonial Army barracks or a Navy ship. She didn't even rent a hotel room for Liberty, Shore Leave, or Block Leave. Instead, she had a 'sleepover'… at Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni's 'modest' timeshare located in the Haspith District of the Lower Presidium Ring. 'Modest' meant that it was approximately the size of a small house on a space station, shared by several sapients that hashed out whomever would be there with the landlord/timeshare owner. It was obviously meant to be a location that others could use whenever visiting the Cit for a week or two without being extorted by Credit-stealing Cit business hotels or forced to rent an apartment just for a couple of weeks. Timeshares, Ash was learning, meant one only had to pay a percentage of the rent and upkeep, spread evenly with other timeshare renters while the landlord/owner raked in the Credits for a place to make profits while avoiding Cit Property Taxes.

The place was nicer than anything Ash had ever lived in. It was also _very_ obviously meant for Thessians.

First, Williams woke up in a bed that had not one but _two_ other occupants; Liara on one side, and Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden on the other. The three of them had spent the evening going to a comedy club that was a little more family-oriented, a chattering Salarian who was actually pretty damn funny and really good with voice impersonations acting out what Ash assumed to be a satirical episode of some of the wealthier, more prominent members of galactic society and their antics. There had been this one bit about Aish Ashland, the billionaire debutante and oldest daughter of Howard Ashland of Eldfell-Ashland Energy Corporation, that Ash had completely gotten, the trashy socialite and sometimes Fornax Star usually making a damn fool of herself. Evidently Aish had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction at some social outing that had her losing her entire dress (not that anyone was actually mystified about how she looked in the buff with all her uploaded vids and sex tapes, not to mention her full-frontals on Fornax), but this one evidently occurred stepping on, and tripping over, her own dress while shitfaced drunk. Ash would have actually paid money to have seen that particular moment, but the Salarian comedian actually did a pretty damn good reenactment (and sounded just like a Human girl when he shrieked with the act). The Act had devolved into (of all things) a Turian male trying to do stand-up, the Palavenian being so bad that people actually applauded when he was done. His jokes were so terrible that Williams thought a random person on a Cit street could have done better. Still, Newt thought he was hysterical (she might have been the only one) as Night Cycle came to the Cit and Liara shyly asked Ash and Newt to accompany her to her timeshare.

The Colonial Soldier hadn't done much more than kiss Liara goodnight, but if Newt hadn't been there snuggling them…

Williams' normal morning routine usually started off with coffee, clean PT clothes, working out, a shower, and then breakfast. Technically, she was on vacation, so Ash was going to be a bit of a lazybones and forgo working out for the day as she scoured the timeshares' galley for breakfast and coffee before Liara and Newt could get up. The Soldier got out of bed quietly, stretching her arms up as she looked at her civilian clothes a little distastefully; she wasn't about to do a walk of shame when there was no real bedroom fun involved. Ash went with the tanktop she wore last night and her blue jeans over her underwear, deciding to forgo her bra for some comfort before she stepped out of the bedroom and into the main portion of the timeshare. She had the briefest of thoughts of trying to cook breakfast herself (the thought really warming her up) until she saw that the galleys' pantry was filled with Thessian-oriented food… described in Thessian logogrammatics which she couldn't read at all, much less knew any Asari recipes for Asari food. Well, at least there was coffee. Thank God the Asari were ga-ga over coffee. She made a pot of Starbucks' House Blend (of course!) while looking up menus of local take-out-and-delivery places that would serve breakfast foods, and winced at the prices. _Forgot that practically all the food on the Cit is imported and taxed_ , the colony-born woman looked at some of the menus on the CitNet, and then back at the pantry. She could either create breakfast surprise, or go broke ordering breakfast.

 _Breakfast surprise, it is._

 _This could be fun,_ Ash thought with a smile as she began pulling out ingredients.

* * *

Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni woke up to the pleasant smells of something been cook.

The Asarikin Maiden woke up feeling rested and pleasant, having gone to sleep with the knowledge that she would be sharing her bed with another sapient that was not a family member for the first time in her short life. It had been an experience that had her nervous at first, knowing that Ashley was attracted to her, but the Asarikin a little… unsure if a Human female would find her pleasing or not. She knew in her hearts she was worrying too much, but she had never… been this intimate with another before. Having Newt present had allayed some of those worries, knowing that the Human female would not be so intimate with her in the presence of a child. Liara worried that she did not know what to do, having no experience or any real idea what Human 'women' liked amongst their own kind and gender. Still, they had kissed several times, the experience both pleasing and invigorating, and having Ashley's strong arms around her had… certainly caused an effect within her that made her wish for more.

The smells of something cooking roused her from her sleepfulness as Liara briefly wondered who was cooking.

Newt was still in bed, fast asleep, the blankets curled around her youthful body as the young Human girl somehow took over a vast portion of the bed, yet Ashley was not around.

 _Is… Ashley cooking?_

The Protheantologist accessed her timeshare wardrobe with a palmprint on the rotating closet, the device shuffling to access her personal wardrobe before the doors opened to reveal some Cit-appropriate attire and some outing-wear. She selected a morning robe made of Thessian silk and threw it over her teal-colored shoulders before tying it over her waist to cover her bedwear (what Ashley called a 'nightie') before checking in on Newt and giving her a light kiss on the Younglings' forehead just below her sun corral-colored (what Humans called 'dirty blonde'?) haircrest. With that, the Doctor exited the bedroom, keeping the door slid open as she went into the living area that connected to the small culinary where the Asari spied the Human female hard at work in preparation for breaking fast. What she saw surprised her, seeing Ashely trying to… cook _gosha_ berries and _julana_ nuts in some sort of oil.

"Morning!" The Human said with a smile as she used the pan on the inductive stove to _toss_ the cooking food in some sort of vertical rotation manner… oh, Humans called it 'flipping'! Liara had seen the Navy Culinary Specialists cooking food before, especially in the making of 'eggs' (which they most certainly did _not_ make eggs! They cracked them open and cooked the contents much to the initial horror of Zevin Raeka, crying out in terror at the thought of turning _taddis_ into food!) and 'pancakes' (which was some sort of powdered substance added with cream and _more_ eggs to turn into some sort of soft flat bread). Human cooking perplexed Liara… but then again she herself had never had to make an actual meal for anyone other than herself. Thessian cuisine was one of the most venerated highlights of the Asari culture, their _haute culina_ celebrated galaxy-wide as the best and most civilized of food preparations, reputedly turning _any_ dish from _any_ species into a work of art and taste. Human cooking? They 'fried' _everything_! And if they weren't frying it, they were _barbecuing_ it!

Humans had some rather… odd ideas about making food. At least their seafood was decent enough. Liara did enjoy boiled lobster and several different kinds of cooked shrimp, especially popcorn shrimp (yet another fried food!).

"Are you cooking for breaking fast?" The Maiden asked, her voice a little at wonder. When she had lived with _the Matriarch_ , there had been house servants to do such things, those trained by the _maître d'manse_ to serve the members of Clan T'soni and those under their auspices. There had been Maidens older than she who were of the lower economic _strata_ who were employed by the House T'soni _maître d'_ to take care of such matters, such as cooking, cleaning, maintenance, even shopping. Liara _had_ cooked before, but only simple dishes, and mostly for her Grammercy-oriented Culinary Class where she had made _very_ burnt crepes once. To see Ashley, a Human, using Thessian-related ingredients and attempting… what was that Human term? _Oh yes, 'winging' it_ , Liara remembered. It amused her, and also touched her deeply. Ashley was not afraid to try something new despite having no idea what she was using, making do with her own knowledge to 'make shit up' (Humans and their Goddess-awful foul language!).

"Yep." The Human replied as Liara approached the counter, looking at the titanium non-stick skillet upon the inductive stove, seeing the _gosha_ berries and chopped _julana_ nuts frying in batter, being fried to a golden brown. "I'm use to cooking for my sisters back home when I lived with my parents, and I'm no stranger with making do with whatever out in the field back in the Army. Once turned a gasbag into a mean grilled steak."

"What… is a gasbag?" The Doctor asked as she took to a stool, propping her head on her hand as she rested her elbow on the counter, a smile spreading on her face as she listened. She did love listening to Ashley's stories about her time in the 'Army'.

"Ugh, these smelly floating creatures back on Eden Prime. Indigenous herbivores that created methane and stored it in a back pouch that expanded and let them float from location to location to eat leaves on trees. Let me tell you something," the female spoke as she took a flat utensil and scraped some of the food she was cooking and 'flipped' it again, "being around a methane-producing creature? They smelled _vile_. One tried getting into our rations so I put it down, and decided to barbecue it. Might have smelled foul alive, but they turn out to be pretty tasty once you cook the methane out of them. Just make sure you pop 'em before you cook 'em. Buddy of mine accidentally singed his own eyebrows making that mistake." That had the Asari giggle a little, trying to imagine a Human without their furry eye protection. Her time on the SSV _Normandy_ had certainly been an enlightening experience with the rather charmingly rustic race. True, some of their ways and customs were bizarre, sometimes even backwards! But they had their strengths and their charms, and certainly her time amongst them had proved much of what the galaxy had said of the Sons and Daughters of Terra to be rather incorrect. Each species had its quirks and flaws; no one was immune to that. But Liara saw something in the Human on the _Normandy_ , something that she felt made them worthy of better reconsideration.

"Well! Morning, sleepyhead!"

Liara turned to see Newt walking into the living area, a little apprehensive in a new location, but that was understandable for anyone, especially for a Youngling, and most especially for a Youngling who had gone through an ordeal such as she had. Her haircrest was a frightful mess, tufts sticking out and looking… wrinkled and disarrayed. The Protheantologist had seen that effect before with Human females upon waking up, having to 'brush their hair'. The Youngling looked at the both of them with a bleary face as she rubbed at her eyes, rubbing 'the sleep' out of them.

"We got breakfast cooking, and we got some sort of juice if you're feeling adventurous." Ashley told the child, who took a stool at the counter next to Liara, looking a little grumpy. Well, they had been out late last evening. It was understandable. She herself remembered not being much of a First Light Youngling, either.

"The yellow one is Parintha Tea. It is sweet and light." Liara added helpfully, having an idea of what might be in stock thanks to the owners of the timeshare. Thankfully, no one would be using the residence for the week during this time of year. The political season had yet to warm up for the InnerCit Block Assembly for Block Governors and Aldermans, the election season coming up in the next couple of months. Of course, with the Geth War, it might make the upcoming campaign… interesting. As far as Liara was aware, there was not a Human Block Governor or Alderman (something she had heard from Sara Ryder on the _Normandy_ when they talked about Cit politics on their way to the Cit last time), something that Humanity addressed as disappointing. Some of those Blocks had been held by Clans and businesses for decades or longer… yet some of those Blocks were heavily populated by Humans, too.

"Well, breakfast is done, and it's a surprise." Ashley wiggled her furry eyebrows as Newt giggled a little as the Colonial Soldier began serving the food onto plates straight from the skillet before adding utensils to the plates and handing them over onto the counter. _"Bon appetite."_

"Bahn… appa-teet?" Newt asked curiously.

"It is… French?" Liara replied, looking to Williams who nodded. "I believe it means 'good eating'." Together they began to eat the culinary surprise that Ashley had made, and Liara was pleased to find that the fried- _gosha_ -and-chopped- _julana_ mixture with cream turned out to be quite satisfying. Newt was a mixture of eating and talking, excited about all the things she had seen about on their jaunt on the Cit, her child-like enthusiasm infectious as Ashley and Liara listened on to bubbling joy with smiles, and it occurred to the Maiden something that had not before.

This was the first family moment she had shared in at least twenty-five years, but much closer to fifty when she last felt this… effervescent.

"Everything okay, babe?" Ashley asked, spying the look on her face, and Liara just gave her a smile.

"Perfect, actually." The Protheantologist replied as she looked to the Human females that she shared the morning with, and her hearts went aflutter.

"Everything is perfect, Ashley."

* * *

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins woke up alone with an aching heart, an anvil's worth of grief on her shoulders, and a really massive hangover.

The Level Two Council Agent groaned as her head pounded and throbbed, every second feeling like someone was battering her too-hot temples with a pair of mallets, every heartbeat bringing a thump of pain as she tried to get up or roll over, feeling like absolute dog shit. Her joints ached, her body hurt like hell, and her mouth tasted somewhere in between an ashtray and vomit. She coughed hard, making her head explode in pain as she tried to get out of whatever bed she happened to be in, stumbling out of the piece of furniture on bare feet, feeling the cool metal floor as she tried to find something…

 _Need a bucket, now!_

She barely made it to a nearby waste receptacle when hot lava churned her stomach and erupted up her throat and out her mouth, vomiting hard enough that she swore she must have been stabbed in both sides. Another turning of the stomach and Sam was regurgitating whatever was in her stomach, her throat burning and her mouth filled with vile fluids as she spat out the remnants, her ribs hurting like hell. She barely noticed that someone had taken to her side, holding her hair up and back from her face as Collins spat again, feeling the burn of tears from her eyes from her act of vomiting, her flanks hurting bad and her throat burning. _God, I feel like absolute dog shit_ , Sam thought weakly as the room did a nice lazy tilt on her, her throbbing temples protesting any movement as she rested her too-heavy head on her arm as she hugged the waste receptacle, seeing a face looming beside her as she looked at it blearingly.

"D-Doc?" Sam asked, seeing the youthful face of Seaman Monica Negulesco settling beside her. "What 're you doin' here?" Ugh, her mouth still tasted like bile and her lips were kind of numb. Plus, thinking hurt.

"Taking care of you, Marse." The young woman replied as if it were the most natural response in the world. Sam tried to blink and figure out just where the hell she was, and it occurred to her that she was in the _Normandy's_ MedBay. She had slept on one of the medical beds and puked in a bucket like she was some Jarhead on a bender. _You… fucking idiot…_ Sam chided herself, her thoughts heavy and painful with her hangover. _Doc… is suppose to be on Liberty… and she's taking care of you!_ The guilt and the grief caught up to her along with the personal admonishment as she tried to close her eyes as tears as hot as a sun began to leak out of her burning eyes, sobbing as her hangover battered her poor abused brain. _She's a kid… who did something extraordinary! You're a fuck-up who's gotten people killed, who has nobody and nothing left! And she's taking care of you!_ The memories of what happened on Feros tried to push their way through the pounding in her temples and the vice-like grip on her brain, the sight of all those strange-looking creatures oozing away, remembering placid faces laying still as they were vomited upon with white fluids, Chad… _No, oh God, nonono don't remember!_ Collins turned her head to vomit one more time as she began to heave, her empty stomach twisting upon itself as it felt like it was collapsing upon itself painfully, Sam trying to puke up nothing, the dry heaves painful to feel. _Please make it stop,_ Sam begged and pleaded as she stuck her head into the waste receptacle to try to throw up the memories and hangover, but nothing came out.

"P-please…" Sam spoke through numb lips, hot tears, and a broken heart;

"…please let me die." She begged.

"Nope." Collins squawked as she felt her head being lifted up, a hand offering her a pair of pills big enough to choke a Krogan to death. "Take these." Sam grumbled as she bleared at Doc Nugee, fumbled grabbing the pills, finally got them and put them in her mouth. Magically a cup of water came and the Marshal took that too, gulping the pills and the sour taste of bile in one go as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and saw that it hadn't been Doc to give her the cup, but Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, the buff _Latina_ Marine standing just in front of her with dark eyes and an expressionless face. "Give those about five minutes and you'll be feeling a lot better, Marse. Take the worse out of that hangover of yours."

"D-don' give… a shit 'bout the hangover." The brunette replied as she knelt on the floor, the puke-filled bucket in front of her holding her attention. "D'serve worse th'n this. 'Lot worse." Despite the pounding headache and her aching brain, the memories came back. _Nonono, don't go back there, please_ , Sam begged, not wanting to remember dragging Marines from the Hadley's Hope Bar and Grill to be infected, to pulling them out in the open so they could be consu… _NO!_ Holding Chad as he leaked away, his consumed body decaying before her very eyes and in her arms as she begged, begged for him to come back, her last remaining friend… _NONONO!_

Sam cried. She cried hard, and she cried long.

The sobs escaped her as they wracked her body as she bawled, feeling two sets of arms holding her, pulling away from the bucked as the arms knelt beside her, holding onto her tight as she saw swept away by the grief and the pain. _There's nothing left but the pain,_ she cried, her words distorted by her sobs and tears as spittle ran down her chin and her cheeks were awashed by tears. The team that she had when becoming a Federal Marshal and a Clandestine SPECTRE were now all gone; she was the last one left. _All dead, they're all dead but me,_ she screamed, the throbbing heat of her brain growing worse as someone pressed a cool washcloth to her head, the slightest respite to agony. She had fought for Humanity and the galaxy alongside the _finest_ , men and women she believed in, who had her back while she had theirs. _I buried them, I've buried them all,_ she whimpered as she was held, barely noticing the two presences that held her as she broke apart, the weight in her chest excruciating, crushing her heart. It was impossible to breath as she struggled to pull air into her lungs, her ribs crushing the very life out of her as ice water filled her veins and sweat exploded her pours. _Bury me, bury me with them, please_ , she begged with every gram of her soul as she shivered violently. Lights flashed before her very eyes as the world went sideways and the roar of an oceanless surf crashed to her ears. Lord, she couldn't catch her breath as panic seized her, absolute terror. It was there; the smell, the sounds, the violence, the grief, the sound of gunfire and the scent of blood, the musk of ancient dust and the sweat of fear. _I want my friends back, I want my husband back,_ she pleaded as her heart absolutely pounded inside her oh so fragile chest, swelling as if it were going to explode as she struggled to breath. She drew breath through a choking throat and numbed lips as she fell to pieces, held together by hands, clenching on so tightly that she felt her knuckles crack and her hands ache.

 _Breath, Sam. Breath._

She felt dizzy and nauseated, feeling as if she were going to defecate herself right at that very moment, her bowels feeling like jello and her belly clenching hard. She tried to control it, tried not to drown, losing focus and color as the world grew dark and everything swayed. She sweated and froze in alternates as she struggled to breath as colors exploded everywhere, everything going negative as she felt like someone punched her in the gut.

 _Breath in…_

She struggled to take in a breath, trying to gasp, trying to fill her empty lungs, so full of nothing.

 _Breath out._

Lord she was dying! Dying! DYING! _Breath in…_ Sam clutched on as she wished she could be swept away, begging the hands to let her go and cast her away as she gasped for air as the world exploded into a single point of light, silence deafening her as everything went surreal; seconds like syrup, unable stand or fall. _…and breath out._ Spittle and moans escaped trembling lips and God, oh God she wanted to die, it hurt so fucking bad! Her knees ceased to exist as the strings were cut as reality jumped up to smack her in its cruel embrace as strong hands held her, kept her from flying apart. The sound of a wounded animal came to her and she realized it was her, her own voice as she held onto those pillars of strength that held her, embraced her, kept her from drowning in air. Sam held on, grasping at anything while begging to drown. Her heart shuttered as it squeezed, her lungs bursting empty, everything inside forced up and down, leaving nothing in the middle. She was being torn apart.

"I failed them." Sam whispered through raw lips and hoarse vocal chords, having screamed her agony and rage to the galaxy, her head so heavy, her soul so empty, that vice-like grip in her chest getting tighter. "They're all dead. I failed them." She could see them, the faces of seven men and women from a variety of species; her responsibility. Chad Gaultier, her first partner, a seemingly invincible Deputy that survived Therum and dozens of actions, ever the stoic protector. Nysiana Velyanis, the Turian female who so desperately wanted to be a cop, to prove herself despite the pariah-like gloom of being from a barefaced family of Separatists. Mark Teller, a brick of a man that was as tall and as wide as a Turian himself, yet the heart of a teddy bear, always bringing candy for children. Daepron Norban, a Salarian male from C-SEC's Investigation and Evidence Bureau with a mind that loved puzzles and clues, and a mouth that loved getting into debates. Ameki Jovis, the Drell female from the Illuminated Primacy that was a data-trawler and hacktivist, quick to anger and quicker to protect. Yala D'mora, the C-SEC Customs Agent that had gotten tired of the daily grind, the youthful Maiden with a zest for life and adventure.

And her dear, dear Nihlus. Friend, partner, confident, lover, husband… with her every step of the way, striving to be better not only for his own kind, but her own, too.

"Why me?" Sam begged, cradled as she sobbed. "Why not any of them?" Chad, that incredible force of will that never faltered. Nessie who so wanted to show that being barefaced didn't mean being a coward. Mark, whose golden heart was perfect for being a father. Daepron forever seeking challenges of intellectual skill, the practical joker of the group. Ameki who supported her mother and younger sister back on Kahje. Yala cut down before she had lived to see a century, the one who should have outlived them all. Nihlus, who had grown so much, had changed his views on a species he originally detested, whom he had given Humanity his all. What was she compared to them? Just a cop, good with a gun and numbers. They had fallen, lost their lives on their toughest mission; the moon of Aratoht, Torfan. Chad had been shot so many times it was a wonder he had survived. Nessie had died in her arms, gurgling her own blood while the Turian apologized to her for _dying_ , as if she had done something wrong. Mark had been blown up when the slavers started arming slaves with suicide vests, giving his life to save a Batarian cub. Daepron had been shot destroying the Command and Control Net that armed the slaves' control collars, died freeing slaves. Yala had lost her life taking on no less than three Special Intervention Unit Operatives, sent to stop them but losing their lives to an underpowered Asari cop. Nihlus had damn near lost his life as well after blowing through most of the state militia, gunning them down with his favorite shotgun, taking on the encampments' Commanding Officer and ripping his throat out with his talons. Sam had been shot three times, bleeding out from a round in her thigh as she protected Nihlus' back, fearing that the rest of her team was dead and determining _not one fucking more_ as she chose to fight instead of dressing her wounds. It had been Chad that had saved her life on Torfan, having eaten six round himself and yet still able to carry her to a better location in which to fight from. She _should_ have died on Torfan, just like she should have died on Therum during the shootout with Frontier Marshal Bart Weathers, Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamsters' President Nico Dekker, and their goons.

 _I should be with them, I should be dead._

Sam blinked away the burning tears, wiped at the spittle that flecked her chin, feeling the vice on her heart loosen slowly. It took her a few moments to realize that she was practically laying in someone's lap, looking up to see Doc Nugee loom over her, the Corpsman's arms around her. Collins looked away, ashamed of herself for the things she had said, for having fallen apart like that. _She's just a Goddamn kid, and you're a grown woman, a Marshal! You should be looking out for her, taking care of her, not the other way around!_ Sam wanted to crawl in a corner and bury her head somewhere, but Doc won't let her, those arms holding onto her. Saving her life, saving her from herself.

"Y'know, my dad's a cop, too."

Sam looked to Monica, who was sitting on the ground while Sam half-laid on her, and half-sprawled out in the MedBay. She noted that Corporal Jeanette Vasquez was grabbing something from the dispensary. The Marine came back with another cup of water, which Collins took gratefully, her throat raw and her head a mixture of heat and pounding. She drank a little bit to cut through the desert of her throat, cool relief pouring into her throat. It wasn't better, _per se_ , but it was a start.

"Where at?" Sam croaked. Funny enough, people saw a cop or a Marshal, and they felt the need to admit that they had _some_ relative that was a cop _somewhere_. Most didn't like cops until they found themselves under possible scrutiny, and then magically someone remembered they had some distant cousin out there somewhere with a badge.

"Illyeria Metro." Doc smiled, but there wasn't any real warmth to it. That had Sam pause, her senses taking that in. Illyeria Metro was the largest police force in the Human colonies, and the city itself ranked as high-tier amongst _Earth_ cities; no small feat for a colonial capital. Illyeria was the largest colonial city, Humanity's pride-and-joy amongst the stars. Nearly a million people called Illyeria and its surrounding towns and lands home, the nearly nine million people who lived upon Elysium enjoying one of the few near-Earth planets quite efficiently. It wasn't surprising to run into a colony kid from Elysium, and Doc was young enough to actually have been born on the planet after being founded in 2160.

"Chief saved my father's life that day. Captain saved my brother and sister, too."

Sam found herself looking at the little Corpsman.

"My dad had been shuttling people to buildings and strong points when the scum came." Monica said, sitting with her back to the MedBay wall, looking forward, but at nothing. "I was a kid at the time, and thankfully my Elementary School wasn't one of the parts that those animals came for. But my older brother and sister went to Illyeria High School, the same one that Captain Shepard took a stand in and funneled slavers into a hallway to protect thousand of students. They… they would have been captured and _enslaved_ if not for her." The young woman wiped at a tear, forcing back that old fear, that old grief, Collins saw. "My dad was shot saving people, pulling them away from landing zones and where those people were trying to collect them with their speeder bikes and capture nets. My dad… told me how afraid he was that day, that he knew he was going to die." Doc turned her head to look at the Marshal with hazel eyes. "But he went and saved people, fought back. He was shot so some… some _fucking_ slaver could have some Credits and feel good about himself, like that kind of thing is right or proper. He was lying on the street with a round in his chest, one of his lungs nicked as he bled on the streets, still fighting back as best he could. I could have lost my family that day.

"But I didn't."

Sam looked at Jeanette silently, the _Latina_ looking right back at her, neither saying a word.

"G-God, I remember when my dad's partner picked me up like… five hours later." Nugee wiped away another tear. "I had been in school at the time, and when the Colonial Emergency Broadcast Alarms went off, they put my school on lockdown. Thousands of kids stuffed into a Gym during an attack; imagine how we felt." Sam felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought, but there was really no better option than to do what Monica had just described. But she never thought about how the kids in those schools had felt, stuck in some room, panic and fear while trapped for their own safety. "When… when the lockdown was lifted, the school had called parents and relatives to pick us up, everything was so chaotic. I remember… kids who didn't have anyone else anymore, having lost one or two parents during the Assault, either killed or captured. When Uncle Kyle," ah, her dad's partner, "picked me up… I…" Nugee's eyes slammed shut hard, obviously reliving that day almost eight years ago. "I remember his first words to me when he picked me up and held me.

"An angel had saved my father's life. Literally."

Collins slipped her hand into Monica's, and the young woman squeezed it. Hard.

"I remember how hard I cried that night," Doc continued, "how close I came to losing everything. Uncle Kyle took care of us that night while my dad stayed in an outpatient clinic to recover, looking after his partners' three kids. Kyle McLoughlin stayed with us for a week, holding us together after those first days when everything really came to light and we were left with the pieces. So many had died, so many had been taken, buildings damaged and the city was in turmoil. There were riots and civil unrest, just… mobs of people who were angry, afraid, and in pain seeking some sort of outlet. We had survived something terrible and I remember how absolutely _stupefied_ I was to hear about lootings and shootings, like… how did that help? We were living in a time of emergency and grief, and there were packs of idiots who only thought about themselves while people like my father and Uncle Kyle were ready to lay down their lives to save those very people. It took about a week or two for things to calm down and for what remained of the Illyeria Metro Police Department and the Systems Alliance Marshals to restore order, instituting martial law and enforcing curfews while Systems Alliance Marines manned check points and enforced civil law. In some ways that was even scarier, but Uncle Kyle and my dad told me that our leaders were having to do what was necessary during a difficult time, doing their best to protect good people by being harder, to instill fear into criminal elements so those who followed the law and did good when no one was looking would be safe."

"Those are cop words, alright." Sam had pulled a few measures herself during her six-month stint as a Frontier Marshal on Therum, miners rioting after the capture of Nico Dekker and pushing the new Marshal's buttons to see how she would push back. She had never called in the Marines; she had found other ways to enforce law and order that might have actually been more brutal in certain regards. But she had stopped the riots with zero casualties and fatalities on her side of things; she hadn't lost any of her few Deputies, and she hadn't had to shoot at civilians. She noted that Monica had never once mentioned a mother.

"Dad said something to me when he came back home and was recovering, something that stuck with me." The Corpsman said, looking a little smaller, shrinking on herself. Sam held onto her hand. "He said that people remember the Lion and the Angel, but there were hundreds if not thousands of everyday heroes who did something similar, who worked just as hard. I don't blame Captain Shepard or Chief Ryder for being the ones who are remembered, but I know they weren't doing it for fame or glory or grandstanding. I've seen people who try to act important in a time of need, who use others in a time of woe, to inflate themselves to rise to the top. My dad wasn't one of those people, nor was Uncle Kyle. When people needed them, they were there being the people others needed them to be in a crisis, ready and willing while others thought only of themselves. In the aftermath, when those people rioted, my Uncle Kyle was out there again, my dad griping how he couldn't be, too hurt to do anything. I saw… I saw what makes us Human.

"You either think and act for others, or you think and act for yourself."

 _Damn, she's certainly the daughter of a cop, isn't she?_ Collins felt that gripping guilt inside of her, knowing the point Monica was trying to make. _They would want me to continue on, to be here during these dark days, to keep fighting,_ the Marshal knew. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad. But that was how she knew she was still alive. That pain would drive her forward, to push her ahead. She would put one foot in front of the other because that's how she wouldn't fail her friends.

"Thanks, kid." Collins slipped her arm around Negulesco and gave her a kiss on top of her head before ruffling her dark hair, making the Seaman growl. Jeanette snorted as the Marine offered a helping hand.

Sam took it.

* * *

Author's Notes: I realize that there is a bit of a hiccup about Liara concerning her age, the Thessians' views on age… and the fact that she is a fully accredited Doctor of Archeology/Protheantology at a rather prestigious school (the University of Serrice in Serrice, Thessia). Look, Medical Doctors can take about 12-15 years before being generalists, and even longer for specialists… and don't even get into Surgeons. But even still, the other 'Doctorates' are probably around 8-12 depending on profession and specialty. That's 26 years old for us Humans; that's about the 1/3 point of our lives with a life expectancy of 72/76 (depending on gender). Liara is 106… considered something of a 'child' amongst her race (as she has lived a 10th of her life). Her 'views' haven't been regarded because of her 'youth' (and not the fact that she might be a conspiracy theorist or a nutcase). How does one become a Doctor but still be considered… young? Well, gee, TV gives me an answer; **Doogie Howser, MD**. (oh God yes, Neil Patrick Harris to the rescue!) Liara is a prodigy, like Sara. There have been a few 'young' Doctors (Von Neumann comes to mind, the polymath that practically invented Game Theory, binary math, and several other fields during the early 1900's), and Liara's respective age is the same as Sara; she is the equivalent of a 18-20 year old. I guess that's better than calling her The Hundred-Year-Old Virgin.

Thessian _Haite Cuisine_ \- This is actually a French term meaning 'High Cooking' or perhaps 'Excellent Cooking' would be more appropriate. This is the equivalent of five-star restaurant cooking, and in the country of France, they take their dishes _very fucking seriously_. To them, a well-made meal is a passion and a very real portion of their culture, likely beating the most fanatical barbecue artist in America. I know we have 10,001 cooking shows now, but in terms of cooking specialties, the only people that really match the French are the Japanese (who are also very proud of their dishes). The French horribly look down upon 'fast foods' and microwave stuff. So I wanted Liara to have that mentality, as she is a super rich Asari who is… slumming it but trying to be polite.

 _Maitre d'manse?_ A _Maitre d'hotel_ (Matre'd) is generally the headwaiter who keeps things in the kitchen and dining room running smoothly. In this case, I use the term for a _majordomo_ or _house steward_. Yes, I'm making Asari uppity. Any surprises, there?

I wanted to make the relationships I do have more than just some dimestore trashy sex novel, and tried out for this thing called (ahem) _romance_. I know most FF's go straight for 'the good stuff' but I like building upon reality. Sorry, no 50 Shades of Blue, here. (Go check out _LogicalPremise's_ "Of Sheep And Battle Chicken" Series if you want in on that action. Bring handcuffs and whipped cream.)

This chapter was to focus mostly on the recovery of Sara and Ash, but necessarily with a bunch of visions, flashbacks, nightmares and whatnot. When shit gets hard, we generally run to someone that we trust and love to help heal us. Sometimes (like in Sam's case) we don't have anyone to run to.

I mention that Illyeria, Elysium is the largest colonial city in Earth Alliance Space (which is everything outside Sol, but honestly looking at the Codex might be everything outside Earth, too, as Mars was 'a backwater' and who the hell wants to live on Titan or Triton?). Terra Nova is the 2nd Extrasolar colony (which seems to be a mistake as Demeter was the first… and then where does Shanxi fit in?). According to the few planetary descriptions of Human Colonies, it doesn't even look like there's a billion people living outside of Sol. Elysium has 8.5 million people, Berkenstein 5 million, Benning 2.5 million, Terra Nova 2 million, and going down from there with colonies that have no demographics (such as Shanxi, Mindoir, Akuze, Amarastu, Sirona, Demeter, and others).

Forward unto next chapter! There will be a strip club involved. :O!


	43. Being Human, III

_For Stan. Where would we have been without you?_

 **The Strip, Lakeside District, Block 1500 (Midward), Tayseri Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183**

Author's Note: There will be a 'ladies night out' at an establishment generally oriented for bachelorette parties. It is meant for humor, and hilarity will ensue.

So yes… I'm taking you to a strip club _a la_ Magic Mike-style. They were in the game, after all. #SoDoingThis

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) was off doing her favorite personal hobby; antiquing.

Jane was sifting through the bin and crates of an antique store with Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder for some daytime activities, the Navy Corpsman's lover Professor Irissa T'vara mediating through several meetings as the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies at the University of Serrice, the wake and aftermath of the events at Therum giving her difficulties from investors and financiers who had donated for the expedition and were pretty much looking at zero return. The Asari Matriarch pretty much had to convince skittish rich people that the peanuts that she got could in fact be gold nuggets while trying to convince Systems Alliance authorities to let the Serrice Expeditionary Team return to Dig Site Alpha for the equipment and finds they were forced to leave behind. Unfortunately, with the attacks on Eden Prime, Therum, and now Feros, any kind of scientific endeavor looked grim in the near future, not to mention the damn near total loss of the Fourth Fleet following the the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros) and what happened on the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporations' ACV _Horizon_. Jannie felt for Irissa, she really did. The few times that she got to have talking to the Matriarch had showed the Professor to be a very different vein than her kin, in a rather pleasant manner.

Irissa had gone out of her way to help Jannie with the effects of the Prothean Beacon from Eden Prime, helping taking away the near-blinding migraines she was suffering and the restless days-long nightmares she seemed to have but not quite remember every night. Shepard had been a wreck in those days following Eden Prime because of it, and Irissa had gone out of her way to help Jannie. The N7 hadn't been thrilled with the thought of having to meld with an Asari (at all) but understood that there was likely no other option unless she wanted the effects to get worse and spill into a coma or lose her damn mind. The process had taken four hours in real-time, though in her mind Jannie felt like she had been stuck in some sort of limbo for weeks. Yet… the Professor had done it, had eased the issues that the redhead was suffering. No longer was she plagued with crippling headaches and extremely intense nightmares. Every once in a while, she'd get a nice wallop of a headache right behind the eyes, but those usually went away within an hour. Her dreams were still messed up, but the intensity of them had been reduced significantly, and Shepard was able to actually get sleep.

And Sara was pretty much slowly falling head-over-heels for the Asari. Jannie would have had a problem with that before, but… Irissa really was good to her best friend. The thought of their relationship continuing and deepening didn't really bother her, and Shepard wondered if they were talking about 'the future' for them. It wouldn't be easy for them, considering their professions.

"Don't you already own a few models of that?" Sara asked, her tone rather non-plussed as Jannie held in her hands a classic Rock'em-Sock'em Robot Game, both of the fighting models in very good condition, and all four grips still having their finger-depressing buttons working. How the old game survived two hundred years and made its way to the Citadel was beyond the redhead's imagination, but it was certainly a cherry find for such a collectible.

"Y'know, with modern technology, you could easily recreate this game and make a killing." Jannie replied to her friend, all smiles as Sara snorted and shook her head as she, too, sifted through a storage bin that contained some of the classic tech from decades past. "I bet having dueling robots beating the crap out of one another would be quite popular in a year or two when the Geth War is over."

"Gotta get a toy manufacturer willing to risk that venture." The Academy Alumni replied as she pulled out a PlastiGel-crafted device that looked to be a simplified version of a six-stringed instrument that fell out of popularity almost a century before. "What's this? Looks like a really crappy electronic guitar. I can't even tell where the LiFi is at." Sara looked at the plastic item with its four colored buttons on the neck and toggle in the middle of the body.

"It's a Guitar Hero controller." Actually, that boggled her even more than the Rock'em-Sock'em Robots. They were a fad that spawned a whole bunch of games during the early 21st Century, falling out of vogue after a few years after so many games had flooded the genre in a short period of time and people losing interest quickly. "People who wanted to be musicians without learning a musical instrument had a bunch of color-coded games they could pretend to play music to."

"Lame." That Jannie snort. "Look, another Samsung Galaxy. Didn't these things double as paperweights?" The Corpsman had a flat, black rectangle pinched between two fingers, the screen cracked and the body showing a great deal of wear-and-tear. Physical cell phones went out the airlock with the discovery of optronics and holographic Haptic technology with the discovery of the greater galaxy in the wake of the First Contact War. The model Sara was holding was a 2142 Samsung Galaxy Elite 32s, but the younger woman had _never_ seen an actual cell phone, having been born on the Cit and lived upon it for the mass majority of her life. Hell, cell phones had been almost completely phased out by the time Sara had been born.

"It would make an interesting coaster." There was sadly little value or worth in old microelectronic technology, and little to be used with printed schematics being so much easier and more efficient instead of flexible circuit boards and integrated electronics. About the only things of worth in the device would be the microprocessors and the thumb-sized battery pack that could store a megaWatt of capacitance. Jannie had dozens of those items for her tech-hobbies creating and crafting items the suit her needs and creativity. "Sara, kinda got a… question to ask." The brunette looked to her as Jannie tried to keep her face smooth but failed, the Corpsman seeing her wince.

"Uh oh." Ryder smiled, way too smart for her own good. "What's his name?"

"Does it have to be a guy?" Jannie asked pointedly. Sara put the old cell phone back, folded her muscular arms across her Cit-attire robed chest, and stood in a _you're not fooling me_ stance as she looked at the redhead with some sass. "Okay, it's a guy."

"The na-aaaame…" The twenty-year old sing-songed, her smirk growing bigger. If possible. Jannie winced again. _Sara's probably going to kill me for this._

"It's Mark."

Sara's face slowly oozed into a double-take, looking at her with a look that was somewhere in between disbelief and incredulity.

"As in… Mark Vanderloo? Your _ex_ -husband?" Sara asked pointedly, going in for the theoretical kill. "Are we talking a little moment of weakness and a peck on the cheek? Or are we talk you falling into a bed and him falling on top of you?"

"Kinda more… the second one." The N7 replied, wincing again. It smacked of stupid on so many levels, Jannie knew. You weren't suppose to hook up with an ex, though Lord knew probably a good quarter of people broke that little rule at least once. Then there was the fact the Mark was her direct subordinate. It was hard enough as is being a woman in the Navy, though as the redhead understood it, her and Sara's generation had it a lot easier than women in the past. When she had walked in on her husband with another woman in _their_ apartment, Jannie had gone apocalyptic, throwing them _both_ out physically into the hallway and out into the Arcturus Station Proper _sans_ anything, shutting and locking the door with them nude in public while Shepard broke down and cried hard. It had been seventeen-year old Sara she had went to, her young friend holding her and comforting her as Jannie finally broke down and sobbed out the story as Ryder held her. She couldn't even see or think of Mark without that rage or that pain boiling to the surface those first few months. Jannie had filed for divorce with a broken heart, realizing how few memories and days she could recall with her husband, actually counting them and realizing they had spent only a _fifth_ of their marriage together, and the longest period together had been something like three weeks. Out of four years.

She had made the same mistake her mother made.

"Jannie…" Sara looked at her for a moment before she moved in, slipping her arms around the redhead and holding her. "You know I'll be there for you, and I'll support you whichever way you go." Shepard put her arms around the younger woman and held her, remembering those days when it was _she_ that needed Sara, that young woman who had looked up to her and seen her at her worse and never lost faith. "Just at least tell me that sleeping with Mark was the end cap of a really nice evening and not just you grabbing him and _ptoinking_ him."

" _Ptoink?"_ Jannie never heard that term, but she figured it out easily enough. "Dare I ask who uses that? I know _vrack_ and _shurl_ from the Turians' lexicon thanks to you, but ' _ptoink_ '?"

"It's… ah, Volus." Jannie just had to look down at her friend with a slightly horrified expression.

"Did you just reference the Volus in regards to my sex life?" The redhead asked incredulously, making the young woman blush a little. "I can't believe you just had _Volus_ and _sex_ in the same sentence in regards to anything dealing with me."

"Awww, could return the favor you gave me when I graduated the Academy." Sara's eyebrows popped up twice suggestively, more than a little humor in her voice. Jannie knew _exactly_ what the Corpsman was implying.

"That's a terrible thought, kiddo." Jannie snorted as she took a step back, regarding her friend. "So full of disaster it doesn't even beg explanation. Make it a ladies' night?"

"Saddle up the lady Normandiers for a night of trouble?" Ryder suggested, her smirk getting even bigger. "Just don't let them in on it. It's so much better when it's a surprise. Like what you did with me."

"I really didn't hear you complain once you got through the front door, squirt." Shepard laughed, making Sara scowl at the pet nickname. "I can see this going wrong on so many levels. Which is what makes it fun. The guys will be jealous."

"Please! I don't doubt Ballsack and Lapdance have already been kicked out of two establishments already." The Corpsman waved off the possibility. "Guys go for the _possibility_. Girls?" Sara waggled her eyebrows again. "We go for some _fun_. Ten Credits says we get Tali to pop her faceplate and make Liara blush neon."

"Ten Credits says you'll have to drag Monica through the front door as she makes every excuse in the book _not_ to go in." The N7 smirked. Oh yeah, this would be a night of trouble; exactly what they needed. "Same place as before?"

"Yep." Sara smiled. "Let me Chirp Irissa and let her know what's up. Don't need that kind of drama in our lives."

* * *

 **Lollipops' Fashion Entertainment Review, Sublime District, Block 2200 (Lower Ward), Tayseri Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183**

"Let me get this straight. We're going to a _strip club_." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams stood in front of the location that Captain Jane Shepard and Petty Officer Sara Ryder had brought the group of 'lady' Normandiers to, the Colonial Soldier looking at said location, and then right at Sara. "You brought us to a titty bar." Poor Doctor Liara T'soni looked mortified at the thought while Seaman Monica Negulesco was blushing so hard she could have served as a taclight. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was trying to wave her hands at the thought while Niki'Raan nar Tombay latched onto her arm, pulling the purple-clad Pilgrim closer to the location in question while both Dravens cousins, Rosamund and Tabitha, looked faintly amused. Corporal Jeanette Vasquez was just shaking her head and smiling wryly while Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid and Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele were all smiles, hand-in-hand on their impromptu honeymoon at the Cit. Marshal Samantha Collins was just throwing up her hands in surrender while Agent Zevin Raeka looked rather interested. But the best expression belonged to Commander Karen Chakwas, the Doctor actually having a wry smile.

"It's not a titty bar, Ash." Sara corrected the Soldier. "First off, you can't have strip clubs on the Cit, so they're _fashion entertainment reviews_ ; think runways with a lot less clothing involved. Usually something on an ankle or on the shoulders." _Adios_ snorted at that. "Second of all? It isn't a titty club.

"It's a stud bar." The Corpsman revealed with a smile.

That had the females look at Ryder as realization dawned on most of them. Some had already known what _fashion entertainment review_ meant, likely.

"Weren't you bitching earlier about Chora's Den, Ash? _Ten thousand light years from home just to see a bunch of guys drooling over strippers_ or some such thing?" Auntie came to her rescue, folding her arms and giving the soldier a smile. "Now it's your turn. But we're going to have _fun_."

"What the hell, let's go studdin'." Vas said, nudging Nugee as the Hospital Corpsman blushed even more furiously. "Go get you a private showing if you want."

"But I've never-." The young woman squeaked, gasping and covering her own mouth before she could go much further with that statement.

"Uh oh." Able Seaman Tabitha Dravens announced, bumping shoulders with her cousin Rosamund. "Now we have to do it."

"Like you needed any encouragement?" Rosamund returned, the LADAR Technician teasing the Logistical Supplyman.

"Wait, how many of you never seen a naked male? In real life." Auntie asked, and there were four hands raised; Liara (sheepishly), Monica (even more sheepishly), Tali (whose hand was being hoisted by her cousin), and Nova (who was actually smirking a little). "Oh yeah, we should go. And I'm fronting the bill, so I don't want to hear excuses."

With reluctance from some and the amusement of others, the lady Normandiers took over a _fashion entertainment review_.

Lollipops' was situated just off the main boulevard of the 2200 Block of the Lower Wards of the Sublime District of the Tayseri Arm, built in the 'entertainment' area where one could find bars, dens oriented for gambling, legal narcotics clubs, and even hotels that had legal prostitution for the Sub-Block and that Sub-Block only; where the district inherited its name. The location itself was nestled in between one of those very hotels and a narcotics lounge that catered towards relaxation, the area very well-policed and clean as its appeal was directed towards good, clean entertainment and anyone violating the rules were generally pounced upon by the many different private security firms that kept the area well-protected and maintained from miscreants or the many 'organized' businesses that sought to make a profit or edging their businesses from the local dealers and establishments. Lollipops' was glamorous without being glitzy or crass, owned by an Asari Matriarch who specialized in entertainment venues and endeavors throughout CitSpace. This had been the same establishment that Auntie had taken Sara to when she graduated from the Presidium Academy of Education, a sort of 'joke' graduation gift that marked her as being a true adult. The redhead had practically dragged the eighteen-year old the last time, at least until she got inside. Considering Humans were considered legal adults at fifteen on the Cit (thanks to the Turians and not wanting to deal with the confusion of 'Human hatchling laws' that even hiccuped in Earth Alliance Space), Auntie breezing an eighteen year old Sara into a fashion entertainment review establishment when she wouldn't have been old enough to go into a ladies' strip club in Vegas didn't even turn heads. The fourteen Normandiers entered into the establishment like a slowly-rolling assault (some willing, some reluctant) as Sara watched Auntie give the door greeter/bouncer Elcor her CitID, the Elcor greeting her with a _shocked… revelation… greetings… SPECTRE…_ as Sara did her best to get the herd of ladies into Lollipops, knowing that half the fun would be the various reactions that would be happening in the next minute or so.

Sara wasn't disappointed. At all.

The establishment was a great many tables surrounding a runway that dominated the middle of the floor, flanked with two bars on either side. The sitting area (for the patrons) was kept darker for veil-like secrecy while the runway was well-lit while light Asari dubfusion was played through the house speakers, kept to a low ambiance so the announcer could call up the next 'model' and the patrons could converse with one another while ordering drinks from the servers. While the Asari generally dominated the market in terms of entertainers and models, Lollipops' was an establishment with diversity in mind, having members of practically every species present for whomever had whatever in mind, from their own species to something more exotic. There were no trideo viewers or holographic imagers for multiple views or so a patron could watch something else. The runway was not only center stage but the only one, and whomever was on the runway was the star of the show. Each 'fashion model' had selected and hired on a rather discerning list of qualities, and Lollipops' paid its employees _very_ well.

It was, after all, the most popular strip club on the Cit. And it wasn't meant for riff-raff, either.

Sara entered the club last, seeing about _half_ of the Normandiers stopping within a few steps of the entrance as they realized what they had gotten themselves into; a multi-species stud bar. On the runway was a male Drell wear a robe-like trenchcoat that was most certainly _not_ secured to the front, showing off a rather muscled torso that was rather Human-like with pectoral muscles and abdominal muscles that could have easily been compared to a Human mans'. The Corpsman noted who was looking right at the stage as the Drell flared out the garment he wore to reveal just a little bit more, showing off the flanks of his torso and muscular hips much to the cheering admiration of the crowd sitting at tables as females of a wide variety of species gave out their opinion of the 'fashion'. It was quite easy to tell that the opened robe was the _only_ thing the Drell was wearing.

"Wow." Rosamund commented, her brown eyes large. "You can play chess on those abs and still have room for checkers." That had Auntie snort as Monica just stared and stared, her jaw dropped open and looking like she was about to swoon.

"Let's get you to a table there, Doc." Ryder told her subordinate (whose eyes never left the Drell) as Jannie led them to a pre-subscribed table, ordered earlier in the day. Auntie had gotten them good seats, practically front and center of the runway, not even a table in the way. Lord knew how much that reservation cost (and who she had to outbid and by how much), the circular couch-like apparatus conforming instantly to various biologies (yeah, the business was that rich) as the table immediately called for a personal caterer as everyone sat on the lounge furniture, enough to sit twenty as everyone made their way to their seat. Sara practically had to lead Monica by the hand as the Drell decided to turn about and show them what Amonkirahad given him. Sara had to admit that the Drell had a _very_ nice pose as the robe was swept to the side to show off his posterior. Tali, she noted, had a hard time not looking as well as Niki shuffled her cousin into a seat. She saw that Ash and Liara were cuddled together, the Asari still blushing, but no longer in embarrassment. Or at least not in _that_ kind of embarrassment as the Soldier whispered something to the Maiden that made her blush furiously, covering her mouth with a blue hand to hide her smile. Good, everyone seemed to be getting into the idea that they were suppose to relax and have a good time. Raeka surprised them by queuing up her OmniTool and passing it over the table, depositing some Credits and an option for a particular 'view'.

"Wait… you can do that?" _Adios_ asked, looking surprised as the Salarian female chose an option that had Sara almost bust up laughing.

"He does have great coloring. I want a better view." The Not-Dalatrass supplied, a smirk on her face. The order was sent and the Drell male (obviously connected to his customers' orders) complied by facing their table, sliding his hands to his hips to spread open his garment to give the ladies of the _Normandy_ a nice full frontal and began working his hips in a rather suggestive manner. "Such a lovely shade of red." The STG Agent sighed, her dark eyes right on the Drell, her tone quite pleased. "Wouldn't mind being dipped into a pool with that one."

"Skinny-dipping or deep-sea diving?" Collins asked, a little amused. Sara was glad to see that the Marshal was looking a little better after the events of Feros and what had happened the previous night. Half of the reason they were doing this was to help out with some of the horrors that they had faced over the previous missions, to bond and help each other out with their individual struggles. The other half of the reason? Well…

"Definitely deep-sea diving." The Salarian replied, Auntie throwing her head back and laughing as Liara blushed magnificently, obviously getting the euphemism.

"I gotta ask," Vanessa Steele looked over to Sara, "but… um, where's his _junk_?"

"Humans are the only ones with permanently exterior sex organs, both male and female." Ryder informed the _Normandy's_ Gunnery Chief, watching as the Drell worked his hips in a rather prominent display of some _deep-sea diving_.

"So… their junk is on the inside until it's time to bang?" Tabitha Dravens asked, curious. "And how does that apply to females?"

"We're the only one with external breasts." Sara informed her as the Drell strutted towards another direction, obviously getting another 'tip' to show off.

"Um, the Asari and Quarians have breasts." Nova pointed out.

" _Not as you think of it, no. Not as I understand it."_ Niki replied. _"Ours are more like storage containers of fatty tissues for lean times back when we were hunters on Rannoch. Much like a Krogan's hump. We do breastfeed, but our milking glands are inside of our chests and behind our ribcages where as Human females sit on your chests, as I've read somewhere."_

"Yeah, and Asari breasts are actually accumulated Eezo tissues." Ryder replied. That had everyone looking at Liara, who realized that she was now the center of attention.

"Wait… you have Biotic _tits_?" Tabitha Dravens asked, her tone pure disbelief.

"That… is a rude way of looking at it." The Maiden replied, a little miffed. The Drell male was turning to leave the stage, indicating another 'reviewee' would be performing soon.

"Whenever you see Asari showing off the goods, it isn't sexual, not the way you and I think of it." Sara informed the Logistics Supplyman. "They're showing off their potential abilities. Bigger is better. Which… yeah, is suppose to lead to potentially Biotically-powerful children, but to them breasts aren't sexual." _Ohhhhh…_ both Dravens coined as Nova smirked at Vanessa, the two wives evidently sharing some sort of perverted thought.

"How can we fill your order this Late Light?" A male Turian caterer came to their table, fourteen pairs of eyes going to the (mostly) nude Palavenian. He was wearing a belt that was suppose to emphasize his waist, and nothing else. Thankfully, his sheath was still closed, but Ryder saw Monica staring and Tali trying hard not to look but failing. He was certainly _very_ male.

"Drinks. Whatever they want, my tab." Auntie piped up, lifting a hand to indicate herself. "And I'll take a Human Sex on the Beach."

" _Meritocide._ " Niki was quick on that beat. She was eying the Turian, too.

"Serrice Brandy." Doctor Chakwas replied, an aire of sophistication about her. "If one is to enjoy the evening, one should do so with a proper drink." Drinks were ordered, some mixed and some exotic, Vasquez 'helping' Monica get a drink (after admitting she had never drank before) by describing said drink without giving its name. Collins was snorting when the Marine Sergeant gave the order of Bailey's, Kahlua, Amaretto, and whipped cream on top. Obviously, Negulesco had no idea that Jeanette had just ordered her a Blowjob. It made Sara think of Private Mikael Holodansk sadly. Auntie noticed, likely because of the order and how Holodansk got his nickname, and nudged her with her shoulder.

"Hey, kiddo. Check the sad thoughts at the door. We're here to help prop each other up, okay?" The redhead said to her, leaning her head so their conversation was a little more private. "Those thoughts will still be there tomorrow, sadly. But for tonight, we're suppose to have fun. So let's get wasted and prank the shit out each other."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Auntie." Sara leaned her head to touch Jannie's, knowing that the N7 was right. Tonight wouldn't cure the ills of the galaxy, but it would help them a little bit. They were here to have some fun, and Sara was fully intending on getting at least three of her teammates to squawk.

" _And for your viewing pleasure,_ " the Turian female announcer came over the PA system as the music dimmed for her duel-toned voice, _"a crowd favorite we haven't seen in a few months. You want the best, and tonight to showcase a line from Taraque's line of belts, let's give it up…_

"… _for URDNOT WREX!"_

The _Normandy_ table went completely dead silent with that.

"No… fucking… way." Ash said as the lights on the runway dimmed for a moment before fading brighter to show a very large (and _very_ male) red-headplated, scar-faced Krogan wearing nothing but a cinch belt around his thick waist as he stood center stage in a pose that showed off his tough exterior, striking a warriors' pose that left very _little_ to the imagination. "Dear God, is that…?" Williams was certainly pointing something out.

"Yes, it is." Karen replied, her own eyebrows up. "That is certainly… quite an impressive specimen."

"I though you said their stuff wasn't out?" Vanessa asked, unable to turn her head away.

"Unless they're excited." Sara had to blink a few times at what everyone was seeing. It wasn't hard to guess why Wrex was a crowd favorite. " _Vrack_ , he could club somebody to death with that thing and have some left over to spare."

Auntie swiped her OmniTool over the table, smiling nastily.

"So gonna see if we came make a Krogan blush." The redhead called out, and Sara saw that ordered a particular pose known as 'the ex poise'. "Should we let him know now or have him bury his head in shame later?"

"Now!" Ash called out, grinning from ear-to-ear as the Krogan turned to the table and executed the pose, raising his arms over his hump to flex and show off ever centimeter of his impressive hide. "Pity we can't do a private showing and watch a Krogan cry! That would be epic!"

Sara turned to Ash, smirked, and swiped her own OmniTool over the table to do just that while the Turian caterer came back with their drinks, handing them out to the proper guest.

"You didn't." Raeka's lipless mouth dropped open, obviously knowing what a fashion entertainment review was for and how it worked. The Salarian certainly wasn't condoning it, either.

"Oh yeah." Ryder's grin was a parsec wide.

" _We have a bid for a private viewing for our fashion model!"_ The announcer called out as the dubfusion quietened slightly for the Turian female to speak over the din of ladies of many species talking and calling out. _"The current bid for our entertainer is set at five hundred Credits for Sara Ryder!"_

The Krogan on stage practically stumbled at the mention of the name, his massive head turning left and right to find the table in question. A spotlight went onto the table in question as it lit up the ladies from the SSV _Normandy_ as Wrex's red eyes both went on the table, Sara feeling saucy as she smiled and waved at the big game hunter, half of the other ladies at the table snickering at the Krogan's obvious surprise. Ash was laughing her head off while both Dravens were giggling like school girls. Vanessa and Nova decided that chanting out Wrex's name was a good idea as several others began joining in, Niki, Sara, Jane, Ash, both Dravens, and even Karen began adding their voices to the chant, _'Wrex! Wrex! Wrex!'_ being heard throughout Lollipops.

" _The bid is now up to six hundred Credits."_ The Turian called out, ending the chant. _"The current bid goes to Mirala D'lesa for a private viewing."_ The spotlight went to another table where a singular Asari Matron sat, grinning like a cat as the Asarikins' eyes were like daggers at the Normandiers' table.

"Oh _hell_ no!" Ash spoke up, taking a drink of her Long Island Ice Tea before swiping her OmniTool over the table. "That's _our_ Krogan eyecandy and you can't have him!" Niki gave a _whoop_ of encouragement as Sam just chuckled as she silently drank her non-alcoholic Tequila Sunrise while Monica tried out her first Blowjob, declaring it 'good' and wanting another, much to the amusement to the Human females at the table (and surprisingly enough, Tali'Zorah, who seemed to know what the drinks' name was and what it meant in Human lexicon). "No way in hell we're getting outbidded by some blue hussy."

"Who are you and what the hell did you do with our Ash?" Auntie asked playfully, making Doctor Chakwas snort as she sipped at her brandy. Liara was half-buried in Ash's shoulder, but smiling sheepishly.

" _The bid is now up to seven hundred credits thanks to Ashley Williams!"_ The announcer declared as Wrex stood on the stage, momentarily befuddled. It did not look good on a Krogan as he eyed the table the lady Normandiers were sitting at, and then the one the lone Asari sat at. The big game hunter obviously made his mind about something as he turned to show off his impressive hump, his stunted tail wagging suggestively towards the Matron as he posed in a stance that exuded masculinity.

" _Eight hundred Credits to Mirala D'lesa!"_ There were a few cheers and whoops from the crowd as ladies from several species were getting into the scene as the music turned from Asari dubfusion to Krogan wardrums, the throbbing pounding of bass drums hitting in the rhythm of war as Wrex turned and moved towards the direction where the Normandiers and decided to demonstrate just how long his tongue was by pretending to lap something up in a long, lazy flick of the tip of his hydrostatic organ.

"That motherfucker is playing us! Son of a bitch!" Shepard howled in laughter, slapping her thigh as she cued up her OmniTool and swiped it over the interactive table. "If I'm getting hustled, then I'm getting a damn good show out of it!"

" _The bid is now a thousand Credits to…,"_ there was a slight pause to the announcers' voice, _"to Jane Shepard!"_ There was no doubt that the female Turian recognized the name, and the crowd went silent for a moment as the Krogan on stage _winked_ towards the Normandy table before strutting over to show off to anyone else that wanted to bid. Sara was highly amused to see Wrex bringing his arms down to show off his impressive Korogish physique, flexing to show his girth and toughness. _Damn, he is good,_ Sara thought to herself as the Krogan worked the crowd.

" _We have another bid from Mirala D'lesa!"_ The female Turian knew her job, working the crowd as well. Lollipops was certainly a host to a bidding war as Wrex took main stage to the feud, knowing what to do. Sara wondered if he had something like this happen to him before. Likely. _"The bid is now at one point two five kiloCredits!"_

" _We're not going to let her one-up us, are we?"_ Tali squeaked, the purple-clad Quarian looking over the group, obviously coming out of her nervous shell. _"We can't let Wrex be some blue's_ pet _!"_

"Hey, you're drawing an Alliance paycheck. Pony up!" Williams countered with a smile, leaning over to address the Pilgrim. Silvery eyes behind a purple face-plate regarded the Colonial Soldier for only a moment.

" _And we have a bid from… a Quarian?"_ There was a falter from the announcer; evidently Quarians weren't allowed generally. _"One point five kiloCredits for Tali'Zorah!"_ Wrex just looked at their table as the spotlight went to the Quarian, who meekly raised her three-fingered hand and waved nervously, obviously not too comfortable with the spotlight as the Krogan's jaw dropped open in shock. It snapped back up as the big game hunter did something different; jumping upward and grabbing an overhanging strut overhead and dangling from the nearby rafter by his three-fingered hands as he began swinging back and forth. Sara and Jannie looked at each other in confusion until they looked over at both Quarians, and saw that the female Pilgrims were just falling to pieces, clutching at each other and giggling.

"Must be a Quarian thing Wrex picked up on Rannoch once-upon-a-century ago?" Ryder said, trying to imagine how that pose or form would work out. No… she'd rather not know. Auntie just grunted at that. _Okay, Wrex obviously knows his_ s'kak _._

"TWO _kiloCredits for a private viewing goes to… Nakmor Akura!"_ The spotlight went to a table that was hosting a Krogan female that looked to be a least a few centuries old. The Krogan with the brown crest was smirking toothsomely at the Normandiers' table while the Asari Matron looked put out, Wrex shifting his attention to the female of his kind, showing off what the Korogish Gods granted him.

"Watch this."

" _Three kiloCredits for… Zevin Raeka!"_ The Turian obviously stumbling over what was so apparently a _Salarian's_ name for a Krogan's private viewing, the Krogan female at the other table on the opposite side of the runway looking at their table in shock as the STG Agent decided to taunt the Tuchankan by wiggling her forefinger in a circular fashion in the Turian expression that meant _go fuck ones' self_. Wrex was obviously eating the attention as he moved in the direction of the Normandiers' table and did something that had Sara stunned with the Krogans' flexibility as he dipped his headplate nearly to the floor of the runway and proceeded to arch up and back and push his hips forward in a powerful thrust. Sara had only _heard_ of that maneuver from Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla; it was a sort of fertility dance that Salarian males did to impress females to get them into the breeding pools.

"Oh my. That was quite lovely." The Not-Dalatrass replied, a silly grin on her narrow face. "Didn't know a Krogan could do _that_." Monica was giggling as the caterer came back with her second Blowjob. Someone was going to be poured into bed tonight, Sara thought snarkily as she drain her own mojito before grabbing her second.

" _The bid is now up to four kiloCredits for Mirala D'lesa!"_ The male Krogan began rotating his hips in a sinuous manner, showing that the eight-hundred year old Tuchankan certainly hadn't lost his touch.

" _FIVE KILOCREDITS is the current bid for Liara T'soni!"_ Everyone just stared at the Asari Maiden who practically fled back into Ash's arms, but looking rather pleased with herself as she nuzzled into the Colonial Soldier, whispering something that had the Human female chuckling. _"Do I hear another bid?"_ Wrex was centered to where the lady Normandiers were sitting, both Dravens chanting _'Wrex! Wrex! Wrex!'_ in unison as the Asari Matron at the other table looked at them with disgust. _Aww, someone's reached Matriarch Dearests' credit limit,_ Sara whispered to her Auntie, making the redhead roar with laughter as more of the ladies at their table began joining Tabitha and Rosamund with their chant. _"Going once!"_ The announcer cried out as even Karen Chakwas and Sam Collins got into it, clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and calling out the Krogans' name in time. _"Going twice!"_ Every one of them were chanting, Wrex flexing his arms and nodding, obviously pleased with himself as he struck a heroic pose in front of all the customers at Lollipops.

" _Complete!"_

Fourteen females of a wide variety of species cheered at the victory as an Asari Matron and Krogan female sulked. Nugee was standing up and cheering, swaying a little on her feet as Vasquez was bent over from laughter.

" _If the winner could approach the lead caterer so that she may be escorted to our private viewing rooms!"_ The announcer cried out as Liara blushed hard but was smiling just the same. _"And Lollipops would like to remind everyone in the audience that private viewings are_ private _, not group viewings."_

"W-what?!" The Protheantologist stammered, her sapphire eyes going wide as she sat up in shock. "B-but…"

"Go get 'em, tiger." Sara catcalled, making the Maiden blush even harder. Ash was laughing too hard to comment.

* * *

The night wore on as the ladies of the SSV _Normandy_ drank and 'viewed' the fashion entertainers of Lollipops, seeing no less than seven different species 'displaying' various fashion items, everything from a scarf (on a Turian), to a new OmniTool (on a Salarian). Agent Zevin Raeka had won herself a private viewing with the Salarian male, and Sara Ryder and Niki'Raan had won the Turian for Tali'Zorah, who stammered and squeaked as the Turian in question gently led the purple-clad Quarian to a private viewing room as the Pilgrim half-stammered and half- _jumped_ at the thought of having a rather impressive-looking Turian male in a room all by herself to 'critique' his performance. When a Human man showed up to the runway, Sergeant Jeanette Vasquez had gotten a private viewing for Seaman Monica Negulesco, who blushed so hard she couldn't even speak properly as the Marine Corporal practically shoved the Hospital Corpsman to the room with a smirk as the man gently took the Sailor by the hand to encourage her, only wearing (of all things) a new line of Crocs. It was very easy to see how Lollipops got its money with the private viewing rooms and performers.

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins had to admit to herself that she had a hard time remembering when she had this much fun. And she damn near had a perfect memory.

 _What was it that Jane said to Sara?_ , the Marshal thought to herself as she watched a Hanar 'showing off' a draping that covered the head of most species as most were wont to do on the Cit despite the lack of any sunlight or rainfall. The Kahjean was evidently a popular regular (Sam couldn't see why, but that was fine) as a few tables bid on the Hanar as it spun slowly, undulating its tentacles suggestively as it walked instead of using a contragravity flotation device like most of its species. Sam wasn't here because she wanted to be at a strip club; titty bar or stud club. She knew that if she hadn't gone, she would have sulked and probably drank herself into the gutter again, and the previous night had been terrible. She had never put herself in that kind of position before, and the thought shamed the hell out of her. She never drank herself to that kind of excess before, nothing close to it. Thankfully, Seaman Monica Negulesco and Corporal Jeanette Vasquez happened to be hanging out at the same bar that Sam was trying to drown herself in booze in when they noticed her while playing billiards together, the Marine Corporal from Old Los Angeles trying to hustle some Human CitCitz while Nugee was obviously the distraction, whether she knew it or not. Sam had been black-out drunk, not even realizing that she had been tottered through the Cit completely and utterly smashed and taken back to the _Normandy_ to sleep it off. God, she could have been kidnapped right off the station and woken up with a control collar around her neck and never would have known. Completely and utterly stupid.

 _Check the sad thoughts at the door,_ Jane had said. _Tonight is about having fun with the people who do have your back._

There was another Turian male on the stage, strutting like there was a female in heat in the establishment, wearing a cinch belt that was to emphasize the musculature and proportions of the Turians' sinewy lower torso, where the plates ended and the the more tender tissues of the waist were exposed to show off the chiseled muscles and well-developed invert where the waist narrowed before it flared out to the hips. Actually, he was a rather good-looking male with a long fringe, chiseled waist, buffed plates, and graceful movements; in some ways, Turians were much like some birds on Earth when it came to males enticing females, strutting and showing their stuff in a different manner than Human Beings. Still, the sight had Collins' heart ache. He was a good-looking male, but it wasn't _him_.

Sam was a little surprised when Sara scooted over to her and laid her head on Sam's left shoulder, snuggling her. Doc wasn't that drunk; this was something else.

"I know that look. Wore it once myself." Ryder said just loud enough for Sam to hear over the music without announcing it for all to hear. "Made me do something stupid, too. Something I ended up regretting for months afterwards." The Navy Corpsman slipped her arms around Sam's left arm, holding onto her softly, obviously giving her some comfort. "Did you know that me and Garrus dated? I was very much in love with him, and he reciprocated."

"I figured it out about a week in on the _Normandy_." She was a cop, after all; cops tended to see things others missed. Sam never said a word to any of the others. She had fought her own battles when it came to being with a Turian, so she respected Sara's want for privacy concerning her private life. "Your first, I assume."

"Yes." That barely came out a whisper, the younger Human woman looking at the Turian… but not seeing the male that was on stage. "I imagine that you and I have some similarities in that regard; we both survived something terrible together. Garrus saved my life… more than that, honestly." The Corpsman had the look of bitter regret to her face as Sam looked at her, seeing at whatever memories haunted her. Jane had mentioned that Sara and Garrus had gone through an ordeal back when she was a CitEMS Paramedic at sixteen years of age, something that the Lion of Elysium didn't even know about, the Angel of Illyeria having kept it from her 'Auntie' in fear for _Shepards'_ life. God only knew how bad it must have been, that 'Red Harvest'. Collins tried to imagine what could scare a Rapid Response Sniper and a kid famous for jumping _into_ a warzone to look for a family member years before. She had looked up on the SPECTRE Home Office database any kind of report or request made by Detective Garrus Vakarian for the need of a Council Agent, and came up blank, which struck her as odd. Jane had confirmed that both Sara _and_ Garrus had sent whatever it was to the Office of Special Tactics to get a SPECTRE involved. In the scheme of things, the request made by an Academy Alumni, a Special Crimes Detective, or a Rapid Response Officer would be taken quite seriously in the Office of Special Tactics, 'pushed' ahead in the queue. And Garrus was literally _all_ three of those things.

Sam suspected something else was going on behind-the-scenes, but didn't know what, whom, or how. Then again, that would require Sara or Garrus filling her in on the details.

"Still love him?" Sam asked gently, knowing this was an awkward question at best. But hell, Jane had her ex-husband as an Executive Officer. That was beyond awkward.

"I will always love him. And Irissa knows that and respects that." The Corpsman replied as she eyed the Turian on stage, snorting. "That guy is a show off. I like mine with a bit more substance on the inside." That had Collins chuckle. She could easily tell what made Vakarian so attractive, that silent macho exterior he had going on. He wasn't the boastful sort, he just _was_ , and that was certainly quite appealing to the females of his kind. And Firstborns. For herself, her attraction to Nihlus had been personality. Yes, he was a tough and deadly combatant, but in private he was a soul-searching male who sought to do better not for himself, but to truly help make the galaxy a better place. Sam remembered how hard it was for him not to give into the easy blatant hate that most Turians seemed to have for Humans, never admitting that they _lost_ on Shanxi while acting like sore losers. The Hierarchy had forced its Councilor, Chamberlain, _and_ its Primarch to abdicate over the _Relay 314 Incident_ for multiple violations of Citadel Law, including violations of First Contact Protocols, orders of kinetic strikes against a garden world, massacring a populous without a formal declaration of war, and keeping the whole thing hidden from the Council of Law, Chamber of Governance, and the galaxy at large. _Turian SPECTREs_ had been sent to Shanxi to quell and cull the Human populous on the colony during the shadow war, asked by their Hierarchy to fight against 'Council Law violators' while asking them to keep silent about certain transgressions on the Hierarchy's behalf. In the end, Shanxians owed their survival to a singular Asari warrior who had been hired as a favor to help combat none other than the Night Stalkers, who had proved themselves a thorn in the Hierarchy Army's side, Jynessa T'mala having contacted her own species to report what she had discovered while switching sides, fighting for Humanity in the last days of the First Contact War.

Nihlus had to work through that stigma, and he hadn't been a 314 Vet like Detective Garrus Vakarian was. Sam wondered if Sara helped change Garrus' mind like Sam did Nihlus.

That thought left when Sam saw a very prim-looking Liara scoot her way right towards the table where the lady Normandiers were sitting, making a beeline straight for Sergeant Ashley Williams, taking the Human by the hand.

"Can we go now?" Liara asked, loud enough that most all of them heard the question or got the gist of it.

"Is everything okay?" Ash asked, concerned, seeing the Asarikin trying to tug her up.

"Yes! Now… can _we_ go now? There are some things that are best left for more _private_ environments." The Maiden replied, both blushing and suggestive. Even Ash figured out what the Protheantologist had in mind despite having a few drinks. Or perhaps because of it.

"Well, y'all have a good evening. Don't wait up." The Colonial Solider practically bounced out out of the couch-like apparatus that they were sitting on, the Maiden practically _tugging_ Ash towards the exit as the Human female had a rather stupid grin on her face. What they were likely about to go off and do wasn't mystifying anyone.

"I think Wrex probably spent the past hour giving her tips and advice." Sara snarked, giving her hips a little _oomph_ to detail the kind of advice she was likely correct in guessing at. "Poor Ash isn't going to be able to walk tomorrow."

"Pretty sure she'll still have that stupid grin on her face despite that." Captain Jane Shepard replied, making Lieutenant Vanessa Steele snort. "Ash 'going blue' is about the last person in existence I'd ever guess at."

"Love can be like that." The Marshal replied softly, remembering the first time she led Nihlus Kryik to her bed, leading him by grasping his taloned hand and pulling him on top of her. For someone who had been selected into the Office of Special Tactics for their stance on Humanity by an apparent monkey-hater, being able to share a bed with one showed just how much the Turian Deathwatch Commando had changed with his time as her mentor, her partner, and her confident. His time on the MSSV _Reuben Cogburn_ had forged a different sort of Turian, one who worked with other species other than his own, finding ways to aid some of the 'minor' species who didn't have Level Three Council Agents. It was _that_ Turian that Sam had fallen in love with, the one who shared her heart, her body, and her soul. The day he asked to formally bond with her, Sam hadn't hesitated one second giving her answer. In her heart, she already knew what she wanted; him, in her life, 'till death did they part.

"Hey," Sara bumped her a little, "you remembered something good."

"I did. Nihlus was my first, never been with anyone else. Never wanted to or needed to." Collins told her 'sister' SPECTRE, seeing Ryder's blue eyes looking at her. "Perhaps one day in the future I'll have healed enough to consider that, but it's too soon now. Still hurts, still too fresh."

"I get that." The Corpsman replied, placing her head on the Marshal's shoulder to comfort her. "Still, at least you doing this is better than before." That was the nice way of Sara saying _at least you aren't drinking yourself to death._ She was right, too. Burying herself in work and booze wasn't healthy. Right here there were people that were looking out for her, being there for her. _You're not alone, Sammy_ , Chad Gaultier told her once upon a Therum ago, when she had faced Nico Dekker and Bart Weathers and almost two dozen goons with two Deputies and a Turian SPECTRE at her side, a no-bullshit showdown shootout that had claimed Mark O'Brien's life but ended up with thirteen corrupt cops and Teamster thugs dead and the Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamster President and the Marshal of Therum captured and arrested along with the survivors. They had all been shot, Mark having died with two shots to his lungs while Sam, Nihlus, and Chad had been shot several times as well, their armor only stopping some of it. They had almost died themselves, but had came out victorious. That day on, Sam became the Marshal of Therum while Chad stuck by her side while Nihlus Kryik worked upon getting the ship-hunter to become a SPECTRE. Before the Assault on Elysium, Sam Collins was a Level Two Council Agent, helping protect Humanity from various threats out in the black. She remembered the day she became a Level Two Council Agent, how _proud_ she was.

 _How is today any different?,_ Sam thought to herself, looking over the people at the table in whom she served with. Sam had her own eclectic crew, hand-picked members of law enforcement that would put the fear of God (or Spirits or Goddess) into those who thought themselves above the law. Each had believed in her and Nihlus, having served with her for years, members of their species recognizing that they could in fact make a difference. And they had, a hundred times over and a hundred times again.

 _They would want me to continue on, to keep making that difference,_ Collins knew, thinking of Nysiana Velyanis, the pariah-born Turian female who had been born to a family who had a recent ancestor who had been defeated by Separatist Forces before the First Contact War, surrendering to insurgents. She had been the Bosun's Mate on the Orlop Deck to a Dreadnought when Sam first met her, the Navy janitor where the bilge pump and reclamation systems were for a ship that held four-thousand citizen-sailors. Nessie had wanted to be a _Civi_ , a Civil Protective Services Officer of the Hierarchy, their equivalent of Sheriffs. But she had been born barefaced to a shamed family name and stuck cleaning shit ship pumps and pipes on a Dreadnought for five years of her mandatory service, so _desperate_ to prove her value and worth. She had absolutely _no_ police-oriented skills or qualifications save her mandatory rifle marksmanship skills, yet Sam had been touched at the fact that Nessie had gone out of her way to seek Collins out at the opportunity when the Federal Marshal had put out a few feelers for cops and law enforcement agents looking to go out in the black and serving justice. Nessie had been the first through her door, surprising Sam at the sight of a Hierarchy Sailor willing to join a _Human_ Marshal. Sam had taken the Turian under her wing, as it were, herself, Chad Gaultier, and Mark Teller training a Turian female how to be a cop. _I might have earned my way into being a SPECTRE and gotten myself a solid reputation as a cop, but there was_ anything _I'd wish to be remembered by, it would be taken in a Turian girl and helping her achieve her dream. How many could say that of themselves?_

"You smiled, I saw it." Sara said, a smile on the Corpsman face. "We need to make sure you do that a little more often, Marse."

"Yeah." Sam had hundreds of memories of her team aboard the _Reuben Cogburn_ , working with men and women of principle and integrity, of value and worth. _Remember them for that, that's what they deserves,_ the Federal Marshal thought to herself, and in her mind she saw the decks of that Turian Hierarchy _Bird of Prey_ -Class Corvette, crewed by the brave and the just. Those had been days that were filled with hard work, but satisfying, too. _God forgive me if I was ever curious as to how war tasted. But Humanity needs us; needs us strong and together. Not that I need to tell Jane how to be an N… but I'm the closest thing she'll ever have to a mentor. Sara would follow her Auntie to the very depths of hell, and I can see those two getting tossed back out, the Devil too afraid of them. This crew has in fact done just that, no matter the enemy or the course._ If she were to stumble and fall, Jane and Sara would take that hard, feeling as if it were _their_ fault, as if they had failed one of their own. _You can do this, Sammy,_ Chad had told her when she had been initially offered to become the First Human SPECTRE, an undercover Agent of the Council. _Someone needs to show them the way, to show them what a Human can do._

 _It's up to you how_ , her partner had said, and she had believed him. Years later, and it was still true.

"Uh oh." Captain Jane Shepard spoke up with amusement, her green eyes obviously having spied something as Sam looked over to see little Seaman Monica Negulesco shuffling over to the table where the lady Normandiers were sitting and drinking, the young woman looking both flushed and excited… and embarrassed? "Ten Credits says she's leaving early."

"You're on, _La Capitan_." Corporal Jeanette Vasquez replied as the Hospital Corpsman approached Chief Ryder with a blush to her face, looking sheepish as hell.

"Um… Chief? Can… um… you spot me some money?" The young woman squeaked out, getting a rather amused look from Sara as Sam looked over to see… huh, wasn't that the guy that Jean had 'hired' to do a personal viewing of his Crocs (supposedly) for Nugee? He was actually wearing a civilian Cit robe now… off the clock?

 _I guess there's going to be a bit more of an_ in-depth _private showing in the next few minutes,_ the Marshal thought with some amusement.

"How much do you need?" Collins asked, seeing Monica stammer and blush her way through the answer before the Marshal smiled and credited the Corpsman a kiloCredit from her personal account, no doubt to secure some lodgings for the night. Negulesco was practically effervescent in her gratitude as Sam shooed her off, unable to stop the grin from growing on her face as Monica slipped away, the gentleman-in-question slipping her arm into his before leaving Lollipops. _First time's going to be with a fashion model; not bad, kid, not bad at all._

"I would have easily given her the money, Marse." Sara said with a smile. "You didn't have to do that." But Sam thought of that very morning, waking up to a hangover and a Post-Traumatic Stress moment, bawling out her soul and begging to die while Monica held the Marshal in her arms, the Corpsman holding onto her and keeping her together. She owed Doc.

"Yeah, I kinda did."

* * *

Author's Notes: I can't believe I spent 7,500+ words at strip club based off of _Magic Mike_ , more or less.

I bashed a few technological things of our era, specifically _Guitar Hero_ and the _Samsung Galaxy_. Mostly because I thought it would be funny. God, how many different Guitar Hero/Rock Band games/DLCs were there? To think I now do _Just Dance_ with my daughters.

For those who've wondered who I'm shipping Shepard with, I just went with what should have been rather painfully obvious since about _End of Watch, III_ ever since I introduced Mark Vanderloo. C'mon, most of us have broken _that one rule_ (it's like… **Commandment 13: Thou Shall Not Sleep With Ex'es**. You know, the one Mel Brooks dropped back in _History Of The World, Part I_?).

The Sublime District on the Cit is based off of that _one block_ we've all heard about for years in Amsterdam; y'know, the one where you can pretty much like shoot heroin while snorting a line off of a prostitute legally? Canon supports that Turians are allowed to use narcotics as long as it doesn't effect work performance (and considering that I live in Seattle where weed shops are _every-fucking-where_ unfortunately, along with our ever so awesome Goddamn meth problem, gee horray!). This was originally slated for _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ and makes its way here. Who needs drug dens when you've got a city block devoted to this shit? #StraightEdge

Wrex sidelining as a _fashion entertainer model_ was just fun. 800 years old, and he still knows how to have some fun. Bet you've never seen that in another fanfic. Having a ladies night out was actually a pretty fun write, and I banged out this chapter pretty quickly considering. The bidding for Wrex was out of sheer amusement and hilarity, as all _four_ games had 'entertainment' clubs where dancers could be found. Funny enough, I think there is only one instance of a male dancer; a Salarian in that little bar/club in Kadara Basement.

Mirala D'lesa? Yes, read that first name again. You know who this is. #Sexpire

In _The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand_ , Marshal Sam Collins was going to have her own private Corvette-Class vessel to gutterstomp bad guys. The name of the vessel was to be the MSSV _Reuben Cogburn_ , nicknamed 'the Rooster'. This is the name of John Wayne's most famous part from the movie _True Grit_ , in which he won his only Academy Award for.

No, Monica wasn't getting money to pay for the guy. It's for a room. o.O


	44. Being Human, IV

_There was an idea; to bring together a group of remarkable people, so when we needed them, they could fight the battles we never could…_

 **Captain's Quarters, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 17, 2183**

Author's Note: I normally don't delve into the description of the physical act of sex; it's actually pretty difficult to write it without it sounding lewd, lame, or some perverted trash. But some of this will be covered in a way that I hope will be seen as a _point_ of a person and a relationship, and not just fluff/fanservice/written porn.

Plus, I'm a guy. Trying to write about this stuff from a woman's view point is… interesting, to say the least.

And with this chapter, I have hit a milestone. You, dear reader, have plowed through a _**500,000 word story**_. It is now the 28th-longest story in the Mass Effect category. If you're in school and you have a teacher that harps on you about reading more, tell them you've read a _half-a-million_ word book. Then show this as evidence. I swear I won't mind.

And… geez… we haven't even kicked in the door to Noveria, yet!

For all those that have read, faved, followed, commented, and especially those who were there from the first weeks in March of 2018 when this story launched and I crossed my fingers at this (still) unique story of bringing Andromeda characters into the first _Mass Effect_ game, you all have my thanks and gratitude.

As a present? This new chapter!

* * *

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) woke up during the 'morning' of the Cit, what was known as Light Cycle, in her own bed in her quarters with her Executive Officer sleeping next to her.

 _Goddamn it, I did it again. Two nights in a row,_ the redhead thought to herself as she found herself buried in the arms of Commander Mark Vanderloo, snuggled appropriately with both of his arms surrounding her, one under her head and its hand holding her own, while the other spooned her, holding onto her right breast gently. Her back was pressed into his chest, and the warmth that she got from cuddling him was more than physical; she ached to feel herself being held by the man who had been her husband, to wrap her limbs around him and pull him closer. She had left Lollipops last night fairly drunk and heading back to the ship to find Mark working on some intel that Lady Eloa'Varis had given them pertaining to the Geth, updating the information with what they had learned during their battles on Feros and in LaGrange Point Two. The ship was generally deserted during the day, though several crew members used the vessel as an impromptu hotel instead of spending Credits on a rented room. Jannie had gone back to the _Normandy_ after a night at a strip club (sorry, _fashion entertainment review_ ) feeling rather randy. She hadn't even bothered asking Marks' opinion on the manner; she had plucked him from his work and practically dragged him to her quarters (again) where she had her way with him. And then he had his way with her. The first couple of times had been hormones and the urge of having something thrusted deep inside of her until she came. Then the sensuality came where Jannie and Mark took turns doing the things that pleased the other, from different positions to different angles. She had missed the way he felt inside of her, his waist in between her thighs as she held him close when he made love to her, clinging onto him hard as she gripped hard to bring him even closer, to truly unionize the act of turning two-to-one. When they were married, a good deal of it was the hormones and urges of people in their young-to-mid-twenties mixed with long absences.

It seemed different, now. And not necessarily in a bad way.

 _I know I still love him; a part of me always will,_ Jannie thought to herself as she found herself gazing into the well-chiseled face of her ex-husband as he slept, turning slightly so she could look at him. Deep inside, she knew that one didn't fall in love with someone and fall _out_ of love as easily; there would always be a part that cared for the person in question, even if only because it wasn't some random person. Despite the way their marriage ended and the divorce, she hadn't truly wished Mark ill though there had been a great many tears and screaming matches at the end. She could have ruined his career by labeling him an adulterer (which adultery was illegal under the Uniform Code of Military Justice in the Systems Alliance Military) or blasted his sins all over social media, but she had elected not to. It was because, deep in her heart, Shepard still loved him, remembering the man who had swept her off her feet and supported her emotionally though so many tough times. A part of her felt that she had failed to return the favor, that being gone so often with the Teams meant she practically abandoned him for her career; the same sin Jannie blamed her mother for. A part of her wanted to forgive him all that had happened, to be with the man she had fallen in love with, who had won her heart.

Now she was lying in a bed in his arms after a long night of passionate sex and sensual gratification. And she really wasn't regretting it at all.

"Hey." Mark woke up slowly, his eyes opening up to look at her, and Jannie found her breath catching in her throat as Mark pulled her in a little closer, holding her in an embrace that she found both comforting and endearing.

"Hey." She replied, cursing her lack of eloquence. She hadn't once asked how Mark felt about their recent 'fallen-off-the-wagon-and-into-a-bed' status when it came to things between them. Sleeping with a subordinate (or in Marks' case, a superior) smacked of stupid in at least thirty-seven different ways. Sleeping with someone you worked right alongside with added about another twenty-nine stupidity points to that grand total. Just assume he was okay with it wasn't the right way to go despite everything. "Can… can we talk about this?" Jannie gestured to the fact that their naked bodies were pressed against one another's under the blankets of her bed. "I… I kinda pulled you into this without asking how you felt or… shit, if you were actually seeing someone or not." That hadn't even occurred to her until just now. _God, please don't let me find out he has a girlfriend or fiancee and that_ I _became the 'other' woman!_

"I'm not in a relationship with anyone. Haven't been in a while, honestly." Mark replied, and Jannie actually believed that. While Mark wasn't the type to kiss and tell, she knew that he regretted what happened in the wake of their marriage and divorce. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. "After what happened with us, I was… convinced I _should_ have been punished with a lot worse than just a divorce. I made some epically bad decisions, and I broke your heart. So I didn't date for a while so I could learn my lesson and not become the kind of man I was back in Secondary Gymnasium and the Military Academy, having flings left and right." Jannie hadn't known that Mark had taken a break from dating or seeing someone. "When I did, it just… wasn't the same.

"They weren't you."

"Mark…," the N7 flipped over so she could face him, reaching up to touch his face, "I hope you didn't do that because you thought that's what I would have wanted. I could have done a lot worse with our divorce but didn't because I _wanted_ you to do well and be happy. I didn't want to destroy you in any fashion out of pettiness, jealousy, or spite."

"I know, and I'm grateful. I really am." Vanderloo replied as his arms slipped around her muscled waist, pulling her close. "I think it was mostly that there was a lesson to be learned, and just stumbling over a bunch of girls for sex would mean I wouldn't have learned a thing. I hurt you, I knew that I hurt you, and you were the _last_ person I would have ever wanted to do that to. Seeing that look of betrayal in your eyes when you walked in was the worst thing I'd ever seen, how hard you cried when it was all my fault."

"It wasn't just you, Mark." Jannie replied bitterly, closing her eyes. "I put other things as more important than you for _years_. Even when I was at home, my head and my heart were kind of somewhere else, taking what little time we had together and just… miring it with other things. I… was _never_ home." She opened her green eyes lot look into Marks'. "I was on missions, I was with the Teams, I was fretting about a thousand little things. I took you and our marriage for granted and _that_ was what really hurt me when I walked in and realized I _never_ took the time or the chance to make _you_ important, to show what _we_ meant to me. I was gone so much physically and then the rest of the time mentally that we were simply going through the motions, being married out of an ideal instead of acts and thoughts. It was me that killed it, Mark, not you."

"I should have said something first."

"I should have, too." Shepard replied as she took him close to her, slipping his head towards her chest, holding him there as he leaned against her as Jannie held her ex-husband and comforted him, stroking his shorned hair as she closed her eyes and held him, missing that feeling that she only got to enjoy too briefly, to be a part of something beautiful and magical. They had both made mistakes, and they both had suffered for it. _I said I wanted him in my life, but I did anything but._

 _I still do_ , the redhead realized what everything inside was telling her. She slowly pulled Mark on top of her as she laid on her back, holding him in a comforting manner as she looked downward at him, seeing his head laying upon her as she stroked his head.

"Mark… I'd like to try again."

That had him look up at her with expressive brown eyes, and she knew his answer before he even said it.

* * *

 **STARS Office, Human Embassy, Embassy District, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 19, 2183**

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder spun in a lazy circle in a borrowed contragravity office chair as she read through the rules and regulations on the datapad that she was holding in her left hand while filling out a form on another datapad with her right in the office reserved for Captain Jane Shepard in the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Section Office of the Human Embassy. Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Edward Anderson was in his own office with Auntie at the moment as Sara filled out some of the paperwork that she and Jannie had been working on for the past couple of days, slogging through Alliance bureaucracy and silly rules to accomplish what they both had hoped would be an accomplishment before heading off in the next three days to continue their mission for the hunt for Saren Arterius and any news of his location or any of his allies. There were at least ten agents of various departments in the STARS Office working on just that, looking through datafeeds, getting reports, searching archived information from anything from old news reports to even old social media scrubs on any hint of previous locations and deals for a Council Agent who had obviously done a very good job cleaning his tracks pertaining to his history. The Office of Special Tactics had given the STARS Office a mostly prosaic version of previous missions pertaining to Saren, but had been caught blind when they discovered that most of the information had been corrupted or deleted days before the Assault on Eden Prime. Matriarch Lysanda T'mora, the Commandant of the Office of Special Tactics, had been rather vexed at the discovery when a Salarian Level One Council Agent had compiled all of Saren's missions and reports to deliver to the hands of the Black Fox only to discover that Saren had beaten them to it first and had made a hash of his own records. It was obvious, really; most anyone planning to betray their government would likely try to disguise as much as possible to prevent the _very_ thing the STARS Office was doing right now; looking for clues and connections from the past to limit Saren's movements.

No one had any news or sighting of the rogue Turian since his holographic image terminated itself during a Council meeting on June Eighth. Forty-one days and not a single word.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Auntie." Sara briefly looked up from her work to see Jannie coming into her 'personal' office in the STARS Office, a basic no-frills office that the redhead really hadn't decorated or made her own. She went there to visit the agents of the STARS Office, to visit her Poppa Bear, and to get datawork done, but that was about it. Perhaps when the mission to capture-or-kill Saren Arterius was over, she'd actually get a chance to personalize it a little bit, to make it look like she belonged. Perhaps Sara could get her a gag gift and get a few early-21st Century memorabilia pieces like a movie poster or perhaps and old flat-screen that played old vids of video game demos. Auntie would probably get a kick out of that. She really did love the HALO and _Call of Duty: Black Ops_ series. "I got a response from the Arc, and it looks like the datawork is in order and is being finalized as we speak. Purchased a few transtickets here and the Jacobson's will be arriving on the Twenty-Second. Sam's in on it and she's already agreed to play chauffeur since she's got a CitPL and do we really want them _walking_ or taking an ArmTram for their first time on the Cit? I don't even know if they like others or not."

"Yeah, good call." Auntie replied as she went to her desk and waved her hand over the monitor display device, activating the holographic image and its Haptic input device. "We couldn't get an earlier flight?"

"No. Alliance dragged their feet on the approval, and last-minute tickets are hard to get to the Cit. Not to mention expensive." Sara replied, having worked for the past day or so to cram an AllPass for the Jacobson's and then get it approved through Citadel Security Services (Immigration and Visitation Division). It had been a bureaucratic nightmare that Sara had busted her ass getting people to _actually_ approve in a timely manner… as if clicking an 'acceptance' button took a standard solar day or some _s'kak_. She had threatened, begged, cajoled, and had no regrets dropping either her name or Auntie's name to get the ball rolling on the approval on several different documents, court orders, and acceptances. Four days of bureaucratic semi-headaches.

The final approval was being actualized as they spoke. It was worth it.

"Pity we couldn't drop this on the Embassy's desk and expect them to, y'know, actually do their job." The redhead lamented as she began typing something up on the holographic representation of her keyboard, the device logging her finger movements and typing with her fingerstrokes. "Then again, I wanted it done in a week, not a year."

"Did you just apply _logic_ and _our_ Embassy in the same sentence?" Sara asked, putting on a faux-tone of awe and wonder in her voice as Auntie snorted in response. "Embassy took a real nosedive when Anita Goyle lost the election to that oaf we call an Ambassador. At least our Chamberlain isn't completely worthless. I rather like Chamberlain Ming Moon. She knows when to deal, when to push, and when to allow the other guy to think they won something. She plays the political game well." At this level of politics, that was an absolute must. For the Chambers, prestige and perception were almost as important as politics and policy. Getting caught in a scandal or blurbing out something retarded on ARTARVA or Chirper would no doubt get the other Chamberlains to harass and extort for concessions that would help out their view of things. It sucked, but that was generally how politics worked; extortion and blackmail that involved billions upon billions of lives. "Next thing you're going to say is that we should have _that movie_ for our next movie night."

"Hey now, let's not be too hasty here." Jannie waved off the thought, making Sara laugh. "I'll be dead and in my grave before I ever sit through that monstrosity again. The last thing I need is my crew to ask awkward questions and start comparing me to that slut." Auntie was referring to April Flannigan, the lead actress that played the main character, Ensign Jane Shepard, pertaining to the events of the Assault of Elysium in the blockbuster _The Fires Of Heaven_. It was still the most-grossing movie of all time after six years; no small feat. April Flannigan had decided that her career would go well as a porn star after her success in _The Fires Of Heaven_ , the actress having been picked for her looks and her… personal assets. One of Auntie's main grumbles about the movie was that she had be represented by _'a tit-heavy bimbo with no acting skill dressed in a too-tight costume running around like a retard'_. April Flannigan had died the previous year on Earth flying her aircar into the ground while intoxicated, and Sara remembered Jannie's perplexed Chirps about the people's reaction to April's death; there had been a bit of a media and social frenzy, people somehow forgetting that she was a porn star and remembering her for portraying a hero (badly, at that). Auntie hadn't at all been sorry to have heard that Flannigan had died, though she never said it out loud. "I mean, would you want people to look up how Hannah Buchard is doing and asking your opinion on that junkie?"

"She's actually tried hitting me up for money a few times." Sara shook her head, snorting all the while. Hannah had been a sixteen-year old child actress set to play a thirteen-year old Sara Ryder in the same movie, portraying the Angel as April did the Lion. Sara had initially been charmed that she was being represented by an actress she knew of (she didn't get to watch too many Human shows being on the Cit), but she of course knew Hannah Buchard from her leading role in _She's Got Game_ on the kids-oriented ENtertainment channel _Disney_. So she had been older and certainly didn't have the body of a mostly pre-pubescent a thirteen year old; Sara had understood that the child actress was trying to break into real movies while the producers were trying to pull an audience. Unfortunately, in real life, Hannah Buchard was a Sander; she used Red Sand that gave her the characteristic 'bleeding' eyes from the eyedropper-induced narcotic barbiturate. Hannah's career plummeted shortly after the movie due to her addiction, multiple failed rehabs, and the fact that she was now broke and _prostituting_ herself for Credits and Sand in Vegas, Earth. Sara was even less enthused with her 'representative' than Auntie was. "Said I magically owed her somehow." That had the redhead snort.

"Yeah, a beating." Jannie had like Hannah _even_ less than she liked April, and that was saying something. "So we looking good with our plan?" Sara had come up with the idea, but Jannie had turned it into her brainchild, pushing hours into what they were doing. They both felt the same way about the endeavor, and in a couple days time, they would be able to see the fruits of their labor. Sara, for one, couldn't wait. She felt like she owed it both to herself and others to make it work.

"We've got a tentative approval from the Systems Alliance Judicial Circuit, so all that's needed is a signature and seal. Could be done in five minutes, but likely in five hours." The Corpsman stuck her tongue out at the thought, making her Auntie laugh.

"Hey… this was a good idea, Sara." The N7 said, looking up from her work at her terminal and to her best friend. "Feels good to do something right besides war and fighting. This is the kind of thing that we'll look back on for years and remember."

"I know, and you're right." The Firstborn agreed, knowing exactly what Auntie meant. They were fighting to save lives, to fight for their species, but sometimes the battles that were _smaller_ didn't make them any less _significant_. She only had to look at her own past to see what she had done jumping Cit to locate Jannie during the events of Elysium to know that some decisions could change a life, or even several.

Sometimes, making a difference in just one life meant everything.

* * *

 **Opold's Emporium, Regency District, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 21, 2183**

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams was doing the tourist thing in what was undoubtedly the _most expensive_ place she had ever been to in her entire life. The Regency District on the Cit was no-bullshit the most expensive real estate _in the galaxy_. This was where one went to go to the nearby Embassies, the Council Tower, and the most expensive housing units and stores in the entirety of the Milky Way. Ash had her eyes damn near pop out when she walked by an OmniTool store where the bands of the devices were displayed in high-grade diamondglas cases… and there were only ten of them in the entire store. Seeing an OmniTool worth _a megaCredit_ had the Colonial Soldier's jaw drop in shock. _God, that thing better do_ everything _amazingly at that price!_ Liara had suggested going to a place she called 'Opold's' with Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden, and Ash knew what the Asarikin was doing; distracting the Humans.

Tomorrow the _Normandy_ would be leaving… and Newt couldn't go with them.

"Ohmygosh, look at this critter!" Newt piped up as Ash and Liara walked hand-in-hand along the Emporium, a large bazaar-like store that encompassed a great deal of businesses _under_ a tower, like having a mini-mall for a lobby. Williams kind of got what was going on with the Regency District; the super-rich and super-influential lived here, so thus the best shops were here, too. The shops at the base of the building, sometimes taking up half of the 'floor', were to cater to those persons living in the floors above, everything from groceries to clothing so they wouldn't have to shop elsewhere. There was evidently some sort of super expensive shopping gallery deeper in the Regency District that was a multi-level center filled with practically just about anything one could get in CitSpace, and as Ash understood it, half of the appeal of the location was _being_ seen with whatever fad or hot commodity existed at the moment (obviously, the thing was ran by Thessians).

"That is a pyjak, a native species to Tuchanka." Liara described helpfully as Ash looked at the animal in the CeramiGel'ed partition it was staying in. The creature was a green-skinned marsupial-looking animal about the size of a small dog, with spindly limps, large eyes and ears, and an aardvark-like proboscis nose. It looked at her with moist-looking eyes that blinked slowly.

"Pretty adorable, actually." Ash said, seeing Newt practically pressing her face against the translucent cage. "So that's what a Tuchankan looks like when it isn't trying to eat you, crush you, or mash you. I wonder how they survived the Krogan? Do they keep them as pets?"

"They… are a part of the Krogan diet." The Maiden admitted sheepishly, making Ash snort as the little girl looked horrified at the thought of someone eating a 'cute pet'. Well, there were some cultures that ate rats and dogs back on Earth. Heck, there was an entire religion that thought _cows_ were sacred! She never did get why the Hindus thought that, no one having ever explained that to her. All she knew was that she'd get more beef on Taco Nights and perhaps an extra portion on Surf'n'Turf Night. "When the Krogan began colonizing other worlds, pyjaks were one of the 'imports' they brought as a food source. They breed fast, in large quantities, and they will eat practically anything. They are generally considered pests and vermin."

"Awww, you're no pest." Williams cooed to the cute little guy, who proceeded to defecate in its own paw and _throw it_ at her. It splattered against the transparent CeramiGlass as Ash jerked back in surprise. "Did… that thing just fling _poo_ at me?" Newt was giggling as Ash looked back at Liara, who was trying to hide a smile behind a dainty hand… and failing horribly.

"Krogan are not the only ones who think pyjaks pests." The Protheantologist said from behind her hand, making Ash growl a little as Newt giggled some more. The little girl had a wonderful laugh that brightened her up, and Ash loved the sound of it. _No, keep strong,_ Williams thought to herself, looking at little Rebecca as she inspected the pyjak and the soiled cage. _You will make this girl happy, you will smile no matter how your heart breaks._

 _Break down and cry tomorrow, but today? Today you will make a difference in this girl's life._

The three of them eventually moved on from the expensive OmniTool story that was buttressed by a pet store that sold exotics and a Sha'ira's Secret that specialized in lingerie for just about every species that had Liara blush when Newt asked what one particular piece was meant to do. Ash had to bite her own tongue to keep from laughing out loud as the Maiden tried to (tastefully) describe the purpose of the Asari-oriented thong and what it was for; evidently, it was not _only_ to make the Asari-in-question wearing it to be more appealing, but it also… exasperate certain locations on said Asari's anatomy. The Colonial Soldier was fighting too hard to choke back on her laughter as a century-old Asari tried to describe to a Human child less than a decade old why sexy underwear was needed _without_ being too descriptive. Obviously, telling an eight year old that silky lingerie that induced vaginal stimulation while making the wearer more appealing was not such a good idea. Liara tried… and failed. Horribly.

"So… Asari wear that to do… what?" Newt asked, confused when the Protheantologist (who immediately claimed to have _never_ worn such a thing, Goddess forbid!) told her that it was meant to make someone more appealing, and then fumbled on how to best describe it when the little girl asked how.

"It's sexy undies." The brunette supplied, figuring the girl knew _enough_ to get the gist of it; adult stuff. Ash forwent the rest of the details, and the little girl's eyes got wide and she went _ohhhh!_ in understanding. Liara just shot Ash a withering look for not rescuing her earlier. "What? I didn't know what they were for either until you began to tell us that it came with a power cell meant to activate a vibration node. Never heard of a thong that could do that." If some Human lingerie company saw the garment in question and figured out what they did, they'd make a killing. Of course, it was probably patented for the next millennium or so. With the Asari, that was actually a thing. "I'm just surprised they found a way to stick a battery and a vibrator in it somewhere. There's not exactly a lot of space available." The thing was practically a hoop of dental floss with an attaching string that looped from front to back underneath.

"It also… contracts." The Doctor informed, and Ash felt her jaw drop just a little at that. The crotch portion _tightened?_ Dear God, and Ash thought high heels and waxing eyebrows were some of the more painful things about being a lady. _Constricting underwear_ was certainly a new one. Not _hip-hugging, butt-toning_ , or _supporting_ ; _constricting_. Ash just tried to imagine black lace tightening in between…

… _nope, don't go there_.

"Let's go look at something else." Ash suggested hopefully so that Liara didn't die of horrified embarrassment.

"Yeah, why would anyone need sexy undies, anyhow?" Newt asked, completely and utterly mystified. "People are beautiful the way they are. Right?"

"Right." Ash smiled at the little girl, giving the Asari the same smile. "People are beautiful the way they are." Williams gave Liara's hand an affectionate squeeze, knowing that even a few months ago, she would have meant _Humans_. Her time in the SSV _Normandy_ had changed her, had opened her eyes. It was the little things that had done so, like seeing a Cit-born Corpsman who could talk just as easily to a Human as she could to a Turian or a Salarian, not pausing to build up courage or watching her words so as not to _appear_ racist. Sara had been easily the most different person Ash had ever met, with her accent that was quite unlike anything she ever heard; more refined in some ways, but flavored with different dialects and words from a multitude of species. Talking to Sara had made Ash realize that the young woman had _always_ lived amongst aliens… and had found a way to make it work. She had even mentioned her frustrations with _Humans_ , some of them looking down on the Firstborn who was supposedly doing the very thing Humanity wanted to achieve in spirit if not in action or words. Hearing a little of Turian History, Ash had come to the conclusion on just how _young_ Humanity was, and not just in the stars. Fifteen _thousand_ year old Empire? And the Asari had a thirty _thousand_ year old system of government that unified their people and brought them to the stars? The oldest nation on Earth was… only a few _hundred_ years old at best, and a great deal more than half weren't even a _century_. EarthGov didn't have a unifying planetary government, more like political blocs that convened to keep everyone from destroying one another, more-or-less uniting once Earth discovered aliens did in fact exist and had a war waged on one of its colonies. Meeting the Angel had really awoken Ash to the fact of how precarious a position Humanity was, and pretty much the galaxy's bratty stepchild that whined every chance it got when the older children got to go do the cool kid stuff while Humanity was being told to eat its vegetables and behave.

That had certainly been a bit of an eyeopener.

Ash had been studying Citadel History and Galactic History during her free time, as well as looking up Prothean Studies so she could talk to Liara. At first, Ash had began speaking to the Asari Doctor because she was actually nice, pretty shy, educated, and willing to learn. So Williams had given her the benefit of the doubt and tried talking to her as… well, a person. An interesting person, at the very least, but not necessarily as someone so different as to keep at arms-length. There were different heritages, religions, and views throughout Humanity, and some of them wildly so. How would Ash have dealt with them? Would she had necessarily sided with a Human with a drastically different look at life as oppose to an alien with similar views to her own just because they were Human? It made her think of her comments to the Skipper, that stupid ass allegory on how an alien would look out for their own first, and the bit about the dog. _God, I must have sounded like some xenophobic shithead,_ Ash thought to herself, a little less than amused at the memory. But she had seen the way Skipper had looked at her when she and Liara were cuddling each other at the strip club (fashion entertainment blah blah blah… it was a strip club), seeing how _amazed_ Jane Shepard was. She even mentioned it! _Who are you and what did you do with our Ash?_ , the Captain had asked, but what Williams had heard was _what happened to the racist bitch?_

 _I sent her ass packing,_ Ash thought to herself, remembering not only just the times she spent with Liara. There was the talks she had with Detective Garrus Vakarian, shooting the shit with the Turian Sniper that was waaaaaaay better than her (though she'd never let him hear of it) while comparing and contrasting tactics and missions. There was Agent Zevin Raeka who seemed always to have time to answer questions about her people, and not badgering about how great Salarians were, but being honest about their strengths and flaws. The Quarian Pilgrims never did shut up about the Migrant Fleet, and Ash knew it was because they were homesick, a pair of teenagers out to prove themselves worthy members of their race. Ash was completely okay with that, because that was pretty much what she did when she was sixteen, joining the Systems Alliance Colonial Army to provide to _her_ family, never shutting up about her sisters, her Mom, or her Dad to anyone who stood within a meter of her and didn't run away quickly enough. Even grumpy old Urdnot Wrex had gotten a bit of a shine out of her, the old big game hunter always looking out for the other 'mortals' by giving them hints and advice on how to be better at whatever it was they did, and Lord that Krogan had seen and done it all! What really nailed it for her was watching the Krogan observing Sara Ryder working with Niki'Raan, working on some gizmo that the Pilgrim had concocted and Doc giving her a hand, and the Krogan had just walked up unannounced and _helped_. With tech that Williams had little to no idea about. Not that she thought Wrex stupid (stupid Krogan probably didn't last long) but she never would have guessed he knew how to solder, connect wires, set chips, and even give targeting perimeters if not actually doing the coding work himself. Niki now had a little physical drone that would _poop_ an ad-hoc anti-personnel grenade much like 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko's' save this one hovered and it could deliver to anyone who needed a handy explosive. Plus she would get the chance to tease the shit out of him from here until eternity about seeing him performing at a strip club. That would _never_ get old.

Now here she was, on the Cit, with a beautiful Asari who was probably smarter than everyone else on the _Normandy_ (Raeka and Sara were right up there, and Garrus, Tali, and Skipper weren't exactly slouches themselves, either), holding her hand like they belonged. When she had woken up that morning right next to Liara, seeing her in the light of the morning (as it were for the Cit), Ash was under the very real impression that she was falling in love with the Maiden. They had shared each others' bodies the night after going to Lollipops', Newt having been babysat by Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly who himself was a father of a daughter and knew how to keep the little girl occupied while Ash and Liara had a date, the Navigator pretty happy at playing a temporary uncle. Rebecca thankfully knew that they were 'beginning dating' and understood the concept of such without getting into a bunch of questions or feeling like she was being pushed off when the Solider and the Doctor had their 'Ladies Night Out' courtesy of Skipper and Doc, and Liara had pulled Ash away early wanting to… progress things. Ashley had spent several hours learning a great deal about what the Asari viewed sex to be, involving a good deal more than just physical pleasure, and did her best to take her time and make Liara's first experience with a sapient as pleasurable as possible while learning what melds were like (and why everyone who had ever been with an Asari went ga-ga over them).

The sex was mind-blowing (no pun intended), but it was more than that. A lot more.

When Ash had woken up from the control of the Thorian back on Feros, she had done so in the arms of Liara T'soni, so confused as to what was going on, waking up from what felt like the most horrifying nightmare in the arms of someone who was utterly grateful that she was well. Liara had nearly been in tears as she held Ash as the memories came, memories of things she hadn't been responsible for but done just the same as horror and dread crawled into her soul. Ash had nearly fell to pieces at the knowledge, and it was Liara that had kept her together. When little Newt had come as well, hugging her tightly and near tears at the thought of losing Ashley, the little girl proved to be a balm to the horrors, the one soul Williams had been able to save not only alive and well, but happy to see Ash alive and well as well. On her worst day, in her worst moments, the both of them had been right there for her, and for that, Ashley Williams was utterly lucky and completely grateful for them.

When Ash told Liara that she was interested in caring for Newt, the little girl who had lost everything, one sole survivor looking out for another, Liara had been not only completely okay with it, but had offered to help as well. They had a budding relationship, slowly going through all those awkward steps that beginning dating brought when Ash dropped that bombshell, knowing that Newt represented something almost spiritual; there had never been a clearer sign for Ash that something so profound could be achieved, almost like God had placed that child right in front of her and said _get a clue, this is your soul on the line_. Ash knew what she had to do for an eight-year old who had lost her entire family and her entire colony; the woman who had done so much for her own family was given the chance and opportunity to be more than just being a big sister. It was as clear as a bell to her, and she was going to take it. When she told Liara that, Ash had no idea how Liara would respond.

So when Liara said that not only did she agree to it, but that she would _help_ , Ash knew right then and there she was forever a changed woman. For the better.

 _Would I have so readily agreed to foster an Asari child plucked from the jaws of death itself it it had been Liara to have done so?_ Ash had wondered about that for a couple of days now, thinking it over. Liara had been very true to her word, being not only by Ash's side, but Rebecca's too. The Doctor knew next to nothing about Human children, and yet was more than willing to try to learn, to be there for a 'Youngling' that had lost so much. It showed the kind of person that Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni was; the kind of person Ash wanted to be with. Newt certainly had no issues with the Asari despite never having met one before Liara, and enjoyed spending time with the Asari Maiden. Liara, too, reciprocated the affection she got from Newt, not at all afraid to hold the hand of a little Human girl or being seen publicly with her. Oh, Ash, hadn't missed the looks they were getting as a couple from the other Thessians, stuck-up blue hussies seeing a Human woman, a young Asari Maiden, and a Human Youngling between them, their faces scornful and dismissive. _Fuck them_ , Ash thought as she watched as Newt pointed something out in a store window, a robotic 'dog' known as a KEI-9 created by Hahne-Keder to be something in between a guard dog and a pet for someone who probably wasn't allowed to have an organic pet in their Cit apartment or whatnot. Right next to Newt was Liara, bending down slightly to look at the mechanical creature as the little girl was practically breathless asking questions and being giddy like all kids were, and the Protheantologist showing genuine interest in what Rebecca was saying, not feigning interest but actually _listening_. Ash watched the scene with an ache in her heart, seeing Asari and Human child standing right next to one another without a thought or a care in the world, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

 _You were right, Doc,_ Williams thought to herself as she slipped right next to Liara, slipping her hand back into the Maidens' as she gave the Doctor a smile and a kiss on the cheek as she joined in, blanching at the price of the KEI-9.

 _Humanity could stand to grow up a little more._

"At least it doesn't fling poo." Jorden declared as the flat face of the Hahne-Keder FENRIS Mechanical Canine looked over to the child, its blue-light sensor suites inspecting Newt. "Bolto is a good name! Or Sophie!"

"Sophie the Robot Dog. Now I've heard it all." Ash told Liara, making the Maiden giggle a little as the Asarikin pulled herself closer to Ash, resting her head on Williams' shoulder while her hands went around Ash's waist, holding onto her while they watched Newt play with the mech, moving her head and watching the KEI-9 emulate the little girl.

 _Just one more day, one more fucking Goddamn day_ , Ash slipped her arms around Liara as well, trying to hold back the sting of tears as it pounced her, the thing she had been holding back ever since the _Normandy_ had arrived on the Cit. Just about the first thing Ash had done was request adoption through the Systems Alliance Child Adoption Services for Newt, to care and raise the little girl as her own. Williams knew it was a snowballs' chance in hell she would be approved, considering she was unmarried and currently deployed on a Naval vessel where children weren't allowed. It had taken all of two hours for her request to be denied, and Williams was under the impression by the verbiage in the denial that there had been some other request in the works by someone else. They would only have a week with Newt, that precious little girl that had survived Hadley's Hope, even on her own for a period of several hours after Ash had kicked in an air vent cover and delivered the child a way out at the potential cost of her own life, not regretting a second of it. Being able to care for her, to look out for her? Williams _knew_ that this was what she had survived for, that this was just as important as the _Normandy's_ mission. It was practically written in the Bible itself in a few cases, but Ash knew that giving up on the child would be the _worst_ thing she would ever do in her life. _A week! It's not enough_ , Ash felt the tears come, burying her head in the hollow of Liara's shoulder, trying so hard not to sob out loud so Newt didn't know. The best thing she could do was make that week extraordinary for a little girl who had been pulled out of the very jaws of hell and death itself, to earn back that disaster with just that one precious life. Liara saw it too, the Maiden throwing her lot with Ashley's, seeing it in the same light thankfully; a Youngling without a family was evidently a very serious taboo amongst the Asari. Even if Ash and Liara walked off the _Normandy_ that minute, neither one of them would be able to adopt Newt.

Tomorrow, the little girl that had found a way into their hearts would be forever gone.

Ash cried into Liara's shoulder, unable to hold it back anymore.

"Ashley?" Dammit, Newt heard her cry, the little girl looking at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, just… flashback." Williams wiped away the tears as she tried her best to smile at the little girl. "I could really use a hug, though." Rebecca had no issues with that as she practically tackled the Soldier with a hug, Ash scooping the little girl off her feet as Newt's arms went around her neck and held her as Williams hugged her for all she was worth. _Let her enjoy this, just one more day,_ Ash said to herself, seeing Liara moving in to hold them both, the three of them sharing the moment. _Lord, if you ever grant me_ anything _, give it to her instead._

 _Let her be with a good family like the one I have._

* * *

Author's Notes: Poll's almost up! Pretty hard not working on the _next_ ARC to honor that choice (despite that it seems it will go a particular route) so NaNoWriMo was on future content. Mostly Noveria and the end.

Um, what are Jane and Sara up to? I left this purposefully vague, and you will find out in the next chapter. Not all mysteries are bad, Agatha Christie!

So I steep a little into CitPolitics. I've mentioned that there is a Council of Law and a Chamber of Governance. The Council is like the Supreme Court, but at the head of CitGov. The Chamber is like the Senate/House of Lords, and they make laws, policy, and additions, but for the Citadel Space as a whole, not for their individual governments. Ambassadors are representatives for a species, while a Chamberlain is a voted official for the Chamber, but they are not one and the same person (think of a country's Ambassador, and then the UN Representative; two completely separate people and jobs). The Cit itself has a government, in which is run by a sort of Governor (I haven't figured out a title) but there are Block Governors and Aldermans who tend to the Blocks and districts of the Cit (remember the guy Kolyat was trying to off? He was _running_ for a seat on the local CitGov). And yes, I likened it to the politics of today.

The histories of April Flannigan and Hannah Buchard was actually in the original story _The Lion And The Angel_ that was a pre-version of what makes up _Of Lions And Angels_ and is the basis of the movie ' _The Fires Of Heaven'_ ; the blockbuster smash hit that is the basis of the Assault of Elysium, the Lion of Elysium, and the Angel of Illyeria. In _TLATA_ , April and Hannah meet Jane and Sara after the Assault, practically gushing over the roles while barely giving either Jane or Sara the time of day. One of the things I had made was that Jane was 'less than impressed' that April Flannigan had been picked because she was basically very attractive (ie, large boobs, hourglass waist, hips… you know how this works), and was equally unimpressed with Hannah as the child actor showed signs of a drug dependency (while commenting that Sara was a 'flat as a board pipsqueak').

Red Sand - I had changed/altered Red Sand in _A Fox Amongst The Wolves_ due to many Canon discrepancies. According to canon, it was a Human-created drug based off of Eezo that was likened to an amphetamine, discovered/crafted on Mars. Humanity _barely_ had Eezo pre-2157 (it was only located on Mars for quite some time) and used only militarily and for transportation purposes. I can't see how someone would take a mineral and try to make a drug out of a rock (well, okay, people did lick toads and eat funny mushrooms because they were too afraid to break the law or fork over the cash for drugs, so I guess it isn't that far of a stretch). In _AFATW_ , Red Sand is a liquid barbiturate (downer/depressant) that is introduced into the system through the eyes via an eyedropper, giving the user 'red eyes' at first, and later on the vitreous humors (tears) come out red, giving them 'bloody eyes'. It is called Red Sand because it is manufactured into a granular-like powdered and heated into a liquid form, much like heroin (which I know of this thanks to television and movies; I've never done drugs despite that marijuana is legal in my state. I in fact voted _against_ it).

The mention of the OmniTool store is actually a likening to a watch store that I went to in a Mall in Kuwait City that was physically a Rolex store. It was large… and had exactly ten watches in it, the cheapest being 100,000 Kuwaiti Dinar (which is about $300,000 American Dollars, depending). What struck me as oddly funny was that the sales woman was a Korean woman (in Kuwait) who spoke rather decent Arabic _and_ English. I actually speak a _little_ Korean, and ended up taking her out on a date… in Kuwait City, which is almost the Vegas of the Middle East. They _REALLY LOVE_ Disco.

KEI-9 - In the N7's Collector's Edition Pack of Mass Effect 3, you can get a mechanical dog in the form of Hahne-Keder's FENRIS Mech that travels the cargo bay. If Gabrielle Daniels is on the SSV _Normandy_ , she calls it Sophie. Very, _very_ rarely (like, one in a thousand 'examines' with no known perimeters of story completion), Shepard will ask the dog if it wants to be named 'Bolto', but the mech seems to chirp in the negative. I bring this to the story because hey! We have mechanical dogs in our day and age now, like the Sony's AIBO, the Hasbro's iDog, and the (dear fucking god) Tiger Electronics' Furby.

Poor Ash. I've been building this up through the ARC with tidbits, but did you expect Shepard would let an eight year old kid join a Frigate on a mission to hunt a SPECTRE? This was a part of the concept of BEING HUMAN; both the good and the bad. This plot line will mature in the next chapter. Bring tissues. And learn just who the hell Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson is, mentioned in BEING HUMAN, I, as well as THE SIEGE OF HADLEY'S HOPE, II and III. Stay tuned.


	45. Being Human, V

" _All my bags are packed,  
_ _I'm ready to go.  
_ _I'm standin' here outside your door;  
_ _I hate to wake you up to say goodbye._

 _But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn.  
_ _The taxi's waitin',  
_ _He's blowin' his horn;  
_ _Already I'm so lonesome I could die._

 _So kiss me and smile for me,  
_ _Tell me that you'll wait for me;  
_ _Hold me like you'll never let me go…_

' _Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane,  
_ _Don't know when I'll be back again;  
_ _Oh babe, I hate to go…"_

' _Leaving On A Jet Plane', Peter, Paul and Mary, 1967_

 **STARS Office, Human Embassy, Embassy District, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 22, 2183**

Author's Notes: Props to _DeathZealot_ and _SarahTaylorTam_ for figuring out just who Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson is. As for what I'm about to do?

Just read and see.

* * *

 **SaraRyder**

#AngelIllyeria

Ash, come by the STARS Office w/ Liara and Newt.

 **SaraRyder**

#AngelIllyeria

We got her a surprise.

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams looked at the Chirp with dread. _It's today_ , she thought to herself as her heart broke at the Chirps from Doc Ryder, guessing that Skipper and Doc would throw a little going-away party for Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden. Doctor Liara Delphoria E'shora of House T'soni had rented a Citadel Public Transit Authority X3M Contragravity Public Transportation Vehicle to go from the Hespith District of the Lower Presidium Ring to the Regency District of the Upper Presidium Ring, having a CitPL to where she could use both the Public and Common Airlanes for travel and pilot the vehicle herself as oppose to someone without a Citadel Pilot's License, who was forced to use common access points through the CPTA lots that only got one so close to their destination, sometimes as far as a few kilometers away. Liara could physically fly them to the District and Block in question, and a part of Ash wished they had taken a CitLift to the Upper Ring, walking the distance to spend more time with the little girl. Newt still didn't know the whole truth of it all; didn't know that Ash tried to adopt her but couldn't. Oh, Newt knew that the SSV _Normandy_ would be leaving later that day from the Citadel, and she also knew that children weren't allowed on warships. But the connect of Ashley being gone and Newt not allowed to go hadn't dawned on the little girl as to what would happen to her.

 _Let her be happy for just a few more moments,_ Ash told herself, doing her best to hold it together as Liara landed the X3M vehicle in the Embassy District's CPTA Lot, the automated system latching onto the aircar electromagnetically and landing it in an available slot as Asari Protheantologist, Colonial Soldier, and Human child exited the skycraft through the opened gullwing doors as Newt immediately went to take Ash and Liara's hands. Newt knew that they were going to the STARS Office where the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria were, excited at being able to spend time with even more heroes. The Solider knew that this was just as much for Newt as it was for her; Skipper was like that, and bless her heart. If they were going to have to say goodbye, then no doubt Captain Jane Shepard was going to make sure that it was a good one for the both of them. Liara was on the other side of Newt as the little girl babbled happily as they walked towards the Embassy Tower where the Embassies of something like thirty-five species existed in Council Space, everything from the practically-ruling-the-galaxy Asari down to the barely-off-their-worlds species like the chastised Thark or the cute-looking teddy bear-like Mogwai.

The three of them entered into the busy lobby of the Embassy Tower, checking into the 'Human' Embassy desk for their appointment, the Systems Alliance Sailor working the desk affirming the appointment and giving Ash and Liara access to the turbolift that would bring them to the appropriate level, access being controlled so tightly to prevent espionage and assassination. Newt was still talking as they entered he conveyance that would bring the three of them to the level where the Human Embassy, the Volus Embassy, and the Elcor Embassy were held together, the level guarded by Systems Alliance Marines armed with Hahne-Keder's' M500 Storm Shotguns and armored in Aldrin Labs' Onyx Medium Interceptor Armor. They went through the initial checkpoint under the gaze of a Marine E-5 whose eyes darted from Ash, to Liara, then to Newt before giving them the okay to pass, his expression never changing. They were all still holding hands as they walked down the hallway that lead to the several offices that were a part of the Human Embassy; the Ambassador's Office, the Chamberlain's Office, the Diplomats' Office, the Diplomatic Security Services Department (which as Ash understood it, was where Sara's father, Captain Alec Ryder, worked for many years as _a fucking spy_ for the Alliance), the Migration, Refugees, and Population Bureau, and finally the STARS Office. Ash led Liara and Newt to the door that had an embossed brass placard on its door marked 'STARS' with the inscription 'RADM Anderson, D., Commanding' underneath. The Soldier took a deep breath, willing herself to be brave for what would undoubtedly come next no matter what as she scanned her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool over the access panel for acceptance as the door disengaged and opened to admit them in.

Williams walked into the STARS Office, what appeared to be a fairly large sized room with ten members hailing from the Global Bureau of Investigations, the Office of Naval Intelligence, and the Systems Alliance Marshal Services to work the intel and logistics portion of the effort that was the _Normandy's_ mission, the men and women behind the scenes that plugged the daily grind to make sure the Frigate and her crew got what they need, every day heroes that would never get a minute of spotlight for their efforts save from their Commanding Officer. Speaking of, Ash saw Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson in the main room just to the front of his door, talking to a female Navy Yeoman who was handing him a datapad before saluting him and going back to her desk. The Black Fox looked over and spied the three of them standing their, his dark face breaking open into a smile as he waved them over.

"Ah, Yeoman? Could you get Doctor T'soni some _Ushala_ tea and Newt some juice?" Petty Officer (Second Class) Tricia Keller nodded before heading towards a small room that was obviously the Office's galley. "Sergeant Williams? If I could see you in my office alone for just a moment?"

 _Oh God, this is it…_

Williams followed Anderson into his office, feeling numb with a growing ball of cold dread crawling through her guts as she entered the office marked with his name, seeing the Skipper's office right next to it. She walked into an office that was already collecting Naval memorabilia as the the N7 waited for the door to his office to slide shut before handing the very datapad that the Yeoman had handed to him just a minute prior.

"Read it, Ash." Anderson smiled at her and Ash felt her heart breaking as her eyes went to the datapad at hand, seeing the text of the holographic image displayed on the OLED screen, unable to help herself.

SYSTEMS ALLIANCE CHILD ADOPTION SERVICES

SUBJECT: Jorden, Rebecca Carrie (b. 07 May 2175, Joughlin, Benning)

ACTION: Request for Adoption

PETITIONER: Williams, Ashley Madeline (b. 14 Apr 2158, Nova Roma, Sirona)

STATUS: Approved [Daily, E.G., Approval Authority]

 _The contents of this approval are as follows…_

Ash's mind went blank for a moment as her eyes went back to the important bits.

 _Approved_.

"Oh my God…" Her eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open. She damn near dropped the datapad, too. _APPROVED! I GOT APPROVED!_ "But… how?" Ash looked up to the Admiral, feeling her hand shaking a little, the emotions that had been pent up, the fear and pain that she knew would come were being slowly swept away as the realization that they wouldn't be needed were coming to her. "I sent a request when we arrived on the Cit! And I got denied!"

"That's not surprising. The SACAS wouldn't let a single person adopt a child if there wasn't another person who would petition for granted custody in case the worst should happen." Anderson replied, leaning back on his desk with a smile. "Which is why Jannie and Sara went and pulled a big favor and pushed the datawork through the system with a few magic words like _Council Agent_ and _molecular reduction_."

"Skipper and Doc did this?" Oh God, the tears were coming but Ash didn't care. _Of course_ Skipper and Doc had known that Ash would do something like this, and knew her chances would likely peg at exactly zero percent. So they had done the legwork and whatever else was needed to get the adoption approved before the _Normandy_ went thrusters-up. _Oh God, I owe them so_ fucking _big…_ she had to wipe at her tears, her vision so blurred she could barely see the man standing in front of her as she laughed and cried at the same time. _Newt… I'm going to be your_ Mom… the thought just exploded within her as she couldn't wait to tell Rebecca and Liara the news. _Wait_ … "But… we're shipping out later today! Where's Newt going? I doubt Captain Shepard is going to approve of a minor on a warship."

"Well, why don't you turn around and find out?" Anderson's dark eyes looked at something behind him, a broad smile on his face. "You really think that those two left the job half-finished?" Ash frowned as she turned around to see the office door opening up to admit three women, Ash knowing every single one of them; Jane Catherine Shepard, Sara Elaine Ryder, and Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson. Her eyes went wide as she realized exactly what the SPECTREs had done; done for her, done for Newt. Ash couldn't adopt a child because she was an unmarried woman, and the only exception was to have another person agree to the adoption in case something happened to the petitioner. Such an exception was hard to come by for the Child Adoption Services to approve; it couldn't just be anyone. And dammit if one or both SPECTREs hadn't done their homework. They had gone to someone that the SACAS would approve of; a related member. They had gone to her family.

They had gone to her _sister_.

"Abby! Oh my God…" Ash knew the dam was going break within her, but she didn't care as she saw Jane and Sara practically beaming as Williams practically tackled her three-year younger sister in a hug, lifting her up as Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson (nee Williams) squawked at the act, telling Ash _put me down, brute!_ while the older Williams sister was too busy laughing and crying. She eventually put Abby down as she held her sister in a way that she hadn't in years, holding her so tight so as to transfer just how _happy_ she felt, the stress and the worry of the future leaking away as she practically bawled into her sisters' shoulder, grateful words spilling out between her sobs of joy and relief. Abby lived on Elysium with her husband Rick and their two kids, Patrick and Michael, Ash's nephews. They could have _clearly_ adopted Newt but somehow the Lion and the Angel had finagled a way where Ash could instead, and obviously had gone to Abby to be the secondary, to host Newt while Williams was deployed on the _Normandy_. And Abby had agreed, coming to the Cit. She had no idea how long she held her sister as she cried, Abby holding her just as tightly as she comforted her older sister.

"Abby, _thank you_." Ash finally said, pulling away after an eternity of joyful sobs as she wiped away some of the tears, some still spilling out. "I… this means so _much_ to me…"

"I know, Blockhead." Abby replied, using her pet nickname for her older sister with a smile, making Ash snort with a smile. "Ashley, you've been there for me _my entire life_ , since the day I was born. Every laugh, every tear, every smile, every day. When Dad passed away, you lied about your age and joined the Army so we could have a roof over our heads and medical care, and that day broke my heart. I missed you, missed having my big sister around, though I know why you did it." Abby's eyes were just as moist as Ash's. "Mom was so heartbroken to see you go, that you made that choice. But you did it out of love and honor, you did it for us. How do you pay someone back for such a selfless cause?

"By returning the favor." Abigail replied with a smile, touching her forehead to her sisters'. God, Ash wanted to bawl again.

"So while you're out there looking out for us all, _Lone Wolf_ ," the younger Williams sister said, her brown eyes looking into Ash's, "I would be utterly grateful to look after _your_ daughter for you. My ever oh so honorable blockhead of a sister." Abby's smile was priceless, practically going from ear-to-ear. "I'm proud of you, Ashley. And you know Dad is, too."

"Yeah." Abby was right; Dad would be saying the same exact thing, feeling the same exact way. "God, they sprung this on me, I must look like a wreck." Lord only knew what kind of loops and hoops Skipper and Doc had to jump through to get the paperwork finalized at bureaucratic lightspeed, but they had done it. Approval for both herself and Abby, getting her sister on the Cit in such a short period of time? _God, I owe them so_ fucking _big…_ one look at Jane and Sara's beaming faces, and Ash knew that they knew what this meant to her. One didn't need to think long or hard on what the worth of the word _family_ meant to the Lion and the Angel, two women who had practically bent over backwards for the other on who knew how many occasions. Hell, there was a movie about it! Chances were, they saw this in the same light as Ash did; what were they really if they weren't willing to push forth that extra effort into something so obviously precious, the life and welfare of a child? They had pulled Rebecca Jorden from the very depths of hell that was Feros, but they weren't going to let her be pushed along by some bureaucratic wind and end up somewhere possibly sub-standard or where the little girl might not be comfortable. Newt had attached herself to Ash, and Ash had attached herself right back. Shepard and Ryder had bent the rules for the sake of a child, making sure she went where she _needed_ to be; in the arms of someone who would love her and take care of her. Not only had they done this for Ash, but they had gotten someone else that _Ash_ would trust too; her sister. "Thank you. All of you." God, she was still wiping at tears, but she didn't mind. There was absolutely _nothing_ to be ashamed of.

"It was worth it, Army." Doc replied, folding her muscular arms across her chest, smiling all the while. "Now why don't you take a step outside and tell your daughter the good news?"

Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams stepped out of the office of Admiral David Anderson… and into a miniature family reunion. Her hands flew to her mouth as she realized that her sister Abigail wasn't the only one who had come, but _everyone_. Her mother, Elizabeth Williams, was there. Lynn was too, her belly really starting to show with her being six months along, her and her brother-in-law Derrik Thompson standing together. There was Abby's husband Rick with their two boys, Patrick being a four-year old Human tornado while Michael gazed at everything in wonder, only eighteen months old. Sarah was holding onto Michael, the little boy in his aunt's arms as the youngest of the Williams clan talked to Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden, answering whatever question Newt had asked as, surprisingly enough, her Mom was talking to Doctor Liara T'soni, the Protheantologist looking over as the Asari smiled at her, and Ash knew that Liara knew; probably figured it out on her own. She went over to the Doctor and handed her the datapad first, the Asari's eyes going to the contents contained on the OLED screen before her head went up and her sapphire eyes looked right at Ash, her cerulean lips going into an immediate smile at the sight of the approval. Liara had known of Williams' attempt to adopt Newt.

"Ready for the bombshell?" Ash asked, the Asarikin looking amused at the question.

"If that means what I think it means, then yes." The Doctor replied as Ash first gave her mother a quick hug, Mom returning it with a whispered _proud of you_ to her, her family already knowing what was happening. That's why they were all here; to support Ash when she needed them as well as welcoming the newest member of their family. Ash had taken family leave for the birth of both of her nephews, and had already planned on taking more when Lynn gave birth to her own son, Charles. Rebecca wasn't just being adopted by Ashley; they were all adopting her.

Her wish had come true; Newt was going to have a good family exactly as Ash had. The very same family, in fact.

"Hey, Newt?" Ash took a knee as the young girl looked at her with a smile. "Can you come here, kiddo? There's something I want to tell you." The little conversations in the STARS Office ceased as the eight-year old moved towards Ash, and the Soldier knew that _everyone else_ had known what was going to happen, that something special was about to occur.

"What is it, Ashley?"

"I…" _God, I never told her what I was trying to do, I didn't want her to know I had failed,_ "when I first met you, I remember seeing this brave little girl in a bad situation looking up at me." Ash began, the words just tumbling out. "All I could remember was seeing blue eyes that were looking for help, for someone to help them through. And you had picked me." Newt nodded, her face a little sorrowful at the memory, but she obviously remembered. "I promised you I would get you out of there, and I did, at the cost of myself. In that, I have no regrets." Williams knew that there was no way in hell they would have ever escaped that Colonial Command Center, but she had gotten just one person out; a child. Newt would have been consumed like the others, but she had _denied_ the Thorian that right. She didn't regret that at all. Not one Goddamn bit, not for one Goddamn moment. "I got a second chance, just like you did. And… and I want to make the most of it. When we got to the Citadel, I put in a request to adopt you." The little girl's eyes shot wide open with that revelation, and Ash could see her lower lip trembling a little. For what emotion, Ash couldn't say for sure. "I couldn't just leave it to fate on what would happen to you, just to let you go through the system to land upon some family God knows where on the hopes they would be a good one. I figured… I had _earned_ the right to be the first in that line, to be the person who would take you in as my own, to have you as _my_ daughter. I… couldn't just walk away, Newt. I wanted to know you would be happy and raised right, that you got the best chances. And the only way I knew that I could be sure of that was… was if it was _me_ that was doing those things." God, the tears wanted to come back, but Ash help firm, looking into Rebecca's blue eyes. "Newt? I got approved.

"I want to be your mother."

The eight year old just looked at her with amazement for a brief moment before Ashley was tackled hard enough by the little girl that it actually made her fall backwards.

"OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodthankyouthankyou _thankyou!_ " Newt cried and blubbered as her small arms encircled around Ash, holding onto her tightly as she laughed and cried, Ashley holding onto her just as fiercely. It felt like her heart was going to explode, and she was completely okay with it. She held onto the little girl, and saw her family looking at them, all smiles. They had come here for the both of them, for this important day; important for Ash, important for Newt. Rebecca was practically bawling in her arms, clutching onto her tightly just like Ash had been moments ago with her sister Abby for much the same reason. She sat up, cradling the child in her arms, and knew that this day would forever remain precious to her, the day she truly became a mother, an act of love that would forever change her. "But… you're shipping out soon. Where am I going?" The little girl asked, looking up at Ash.

"Well, let me introduce you to the rest of _your_ family." The look on Rebecca Jorden-Williams face was priceless and beautiful.

* * *

 **SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 22, 2183**

As was Navy tradition, a cast-away was an event in which family and friends were invited to see the departure of a vessel, a tradition going back to at least the Age of Sails during the Elizabethan Era, but perhaps even further than that. It was to be the departure of the SSV _Normandy_ , a week-long Liberty at its end as crew members gathered in front of the deployment ramp of the _Normandy_ -Class Stealth Frigate, the ninety-plus souls that represented the very tip of the spear of Humanity… even if they weren't all completely Human. Those who happened to have friends or family on the Cit were spending the last minutes together, and Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) smiled at the sight at some of it. There was Sergeant Ashley Williams and the entirety of the Williams clan giving each other hugs as they all said goodbye to both the Colonial Soldier _and_ the Asari Protheantologist at her side. Jannie had been a bit surprised to see that the rest of Ash's family had been a little more accepting of the Maiden than Ash had initially been, but the Williams family lived on Elysium, which was practically half non-Human, so probably had more experience than Ash had. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was saying goodbyes to her many friends on the Cit, Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis both giving the Navy Corpsman hugs as Lady Eloa'Varis vas Thessia awaited her turn, flanked by the scary-looking Quarian females in DuraFrame ExoSkeleton suits. The redhead got a good chuckle to see Seaman Monica Negulesco come with a Human man that took Jannie a moment to recognize that _it was the same guy from Lollipops_ from like six days prior! Somehow, their little Hospital Corpsman had snaggled a male fashion model for a shoreside husband! _Not bad kid, not bad at all,_ Shepard thought to herself as she saw Detective Garrus Vakarian giving a female Turian in C-SEC armor a touching of the fringes, the female having the exact same clan paint as the RRU Sniper. Ah, that was Officer Solona Vakarian, Jannie knowing of her from Sara. Agent Zevin Raeka was being escorted by about five Salarian males (possibly her brothers, or dear God a harem), while Urdnot Wrex was being berated expertly by a young Asari Maiden whom called him _Grandfather_ (wai… what?!). Both female Quarian Pilgrims were chatting up a couple others of their kind, likely Pilgrims themselves, Jannie seeing the different colors and designs of the Quarian EnviroSuit on the half-dozen Quarians that were huddled together. And she was pretty damn certain that Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach had been dropped off by a female Turian.

Wait… could it have been the same one he had…? Jannie tried to forget the sight of a _dextro-allergic reaction_ to a particular portion of the male anatomy… and failed. Either Ballsack was hanging out with the same Turian lass or he was 'going fringe'. Hopefully, he learned his lesson from last time.

"We needed this." Commander Mark Vanderloo said as he approached the N7 from where he had been standing inside the vessel, getting any last minute updates. "We've all suffered some hits, but I think everyone's gotten some relief and closure. Sam especially." Jannie nodded, knowing that out of everyone, Federal Marshal Samantha Collins was the one she was worried about most. Having lost her husband Nihlus Kryik on Eden Prime, and then with what happened on Feros? Jannie didn't want to say it out loud, but she knew that people had committed suicide for a lot less trauma than that. She knew of the incident in which Doc Nugee and Corporal Jeanette Vasquez had pulled Sam from a bar when she had been so shit-faced drunk that she had practically been blacked-out on her stool when the Corpsman and the Marine escorted her back to the _Normandy_ , Doc making sure the Marshal didn't get alcohol poisoning or drown in her own vomit. It was still a work in progress with Collins, but at the least she hadn't drank after that night, no longer drowning her grief and sorrows with way too much booze. That was a good start.

"They're going to need it, Mark. We're going to be doing it again." Shepard replied, knowing that she was going to be leading them right back into the proverbial fight. The next one might be just like Feros or the ACV _Horizon_. God forbid there was something actually worse. "We need more allies, we need more ships in the black at our side or doing what we're doing. Sooner or later something's going to break; someone's spirit, something on the ship, who knows what? We're going full-court press here with no backup and no relief. I'm hard pressed to think of a time when so much relied upon so few. Even the FCW wasn't like this, I think."

"We'll find a way to make it work, to make some believers who see things as we do, Jane." Mark reassured her, giving her a friendly hand on her shoulder. "We've got some allies now, and the Battle of LaGrange Point Two is a good sell to bring more into the fold. Right now, we look like we're tough, but if we convince Parliament to let loose some patrols into our command, or perhaps someone else wants a piece of the action, we can be that much more effective."

"Yeah. Here's hoping." Jannie watched as Marshal Samantha Collins came up the deployment ramp, standing next to her SPECTRE sister as the Marshal calmly folded her arms and looked over the gathering Normandiers and those who were to see them off. Sam didn't say anything, but a look at her Turian-marked face showed that the sight meant something to her. _She's trying to heal_ , Shepard realized with a smile, seeing Collins' blue eyes looking over the crew members of the _Normandy_ , something obviously having been decided in her mind. "You good, Marse?"

"I'll be good." The Marshal replied, and while it was an exaggeration, it was only just. "We got new faces?"

"Fairly typical on a Navy cruise, some mid-deployment additions and replacements." Shepard replied with a nod. "The big one is an ONI Agent who's going to help collate information and intelligence for us, making sure we're getting everything timely, both transmit and receive. Something I think you'd be familiar with." That had Sam nod, the Marshal having been the tip of the spear herself for several years as a Level Two Council Agent hunting criminals who had escaped Alliance or Council justice by fleeing jurisdictions.

Collins and her team of cops (plus one Level Three Turian SPECTRE) had gone out into the black to hunt down trash and filth like slavers and crime lords, the kind of assholes that thought themselves too powerful and too slick to be caught. Sam had a unique gift in being about to 'read' Relay data and match it to a ship with some work and translation, and being able to discover its route _anywhere_ in the galaxy. It had its flaws, but as Jannie understood it, once Sam locked onto whatever code or recognition her Autistic mind designated for a particular vessel, she could literally chase it beyond Relays forgoing the need of 'calling' a port or destination for a vessel registration (in which, dear God, half of the Harbormasters were corrupt as shit on even Council-friendly ports). Jannie had chased ships before, but a lot of it was guesswork and trying to out-think some scumbag while trying to keep their vessel in ones' sensors, and then practically guessing which direction they went when a vessel engaged a Mass Relay and translated. Guess wrong, and one would pretty much have to discharge for an hour or several, and either translate towards another destination, or go back to the original system if there wasn't a connection to whatever option 'B' was. Sam superseded that by being able to get in touch with a Relay, 'seeing' the ship access and mutating polyfractural logorhythm that Relays logged with every use and being able to translate it to discover a ships' potential destination. Oh, Jannie didn't doubt there was a great deal more to it than that (Sam described some of it to her, and no surprise it was a bunch of deductive reasoning with facts and clues, damn good cop work out of a damn good cop), but the fact that someone _could_ read Relay data was startling.

The N7 knew why Sam had been made a SPECTRE; she was the only sapient in the entire _galaxy_ that could.

"We also got you a Yeoman." Mark added, a quirky tone to his answer of Sam's question. "A Frigate Captain generates a good deal of paperwork, but we're practically unique in that we might actually supersede an Admiral or a Fleet if in need. LaGrange Two was really just a taste of what might be expected out of us, and you practically spent all day doing datawork, Jane. You need someone that can take care of the day-to-day affairs and manage the ships' personnel and information systems while you run the ship or are on the ground. God knows your ENbox populates with a horrid amount of ENmails every day."

"I get a Navy secretary. That's a first." Jane snarked, passing Sam a wry smile, the Marshal snorting in return. "Should I slap the Equal Opportunity card down and ask for a _male_ personal assistant? Lord knows all those Admirals have cute little flouncy Yeoman's seeing to their every needs. Can my eye candy come with an XY chromosome?" Collins was trying to choke back on her laughter.

"Pretty certain this one's a natural female." Vanderloo replied dryly. "BuPers dropped us a Petty Officer First Class Hope Lilum that just completed her 'C' School for Flag Writer. Seems up to snuff."

"No N's?" The redhead asked quietly, looking to her Executive Officer, who merely shook his head. "Goddamn it." Both her and Poppa Bear had requested for one of the NCT Units to join the _Normandy_ for obvious reasons, but SASOCOM and the Admiralty Board was being stingy. Jannie knew from a few of her friends on the Teams that several of the N-Combat Teams had been sent to Eden Prime for 'clean up' after the _Normandy's_ actions and her own drive towards the Prothean Beacon, clearing out Geth units and the many Husks that littered the area around Constant. A few more had been sent to Therum for the same reason, finding more Geth that hadn't been destroyed by either Sara's team of defenders or Jannie's squad. Some of the last 'available' units had been sent to the _Horizon_ to clear out the ship fully along with Marines, and it seemed that the Systems Alliance Special Forces were designated deck-moppers after Humanity's First SPECTRE did all the hard work.

Oh, Jannie got it; the N's and the Marines were generally the Navy's fist on ground actions, vessel insertions, and anything else that required short-range actions or something that couldn't be answered with naval fire or a missile. But just one ten-man NCT on the _Normandy_ meant that Jannie could have _two_ combat teams, able to action in on whatever threat or move to another objective if one presented itself. She wouldn't have had to split up her team on the _Horizon_ or on Feros if she had two teams. Lord only knew how things would have changed with the additions, but it certainly wouldn't have felt as if Shepard was trying to scrap the bottom of the barrel for leadership or effective teams if she had a larger, more well-rounded crew.

Ash was use to leading Army Ops, though she did have some solid leadership skills, if more oriented towards Army-related actions. Sam had led a team of cops; not exactly the same thing. Wrex had mentioned once or twice being a clan leader of a _krannt_ , but there was something in the way he said it that said that something bad had happened that make the Krogan big game hunter hesitant in taking a leadership role. Jannie knew the signs of someone who had been in charge of a disaster in which many were killed and the guilt making one hesitant on taking that chance again. Same thing with Zevin Raeka, brilliant and absolutely lethal, but there was something that made her pause despite being a highly-skilled, highly-intelligent warrior. Shepard remember what the Thorian had said through Sara, how Raeka had turned her back on her own family for reasons that the N7 respected. The Salarian Not-Dalatrass probably feared turning into her mother. That Jannie got.

Her only real contemporaries were Sara Ryder and Garrus Vakarian, strangely enough.

Sara was an interesting choice; Navy Corpsmen didn't take leadership roles except in medical fields or efforts, generally. Yet as a potential, she actually had a good deal of experience that extended beyond the Systems Alliance Military. Jannie knew that Sara had on several occasions help lead rescue and recovery operations as a CitEMS Paramedic during a few incidences whenever some asshole hacked an aircar and got into a high-speed chase with C-SEC. Those always ended in an apocalyptic disaster, and a crashing aircar was a _very_ scary thing. Those calls got _everyone_ into the resulting disaster where burning Hydrogen Slush fuel and Eezo contamination along with hundreds if not thousands of casualties were the norm. She had also been in charge of several projects during her time as the Presidium Academy of Education, in charge of five other brilliant sapients to complete whatever project they were tasked with. What made it more impressive was that Sara, the only Human to have ever gone to the Academy, had to pretty much browbeat everyone into actually accepting her as the Project Lead if they wanted to succeed 'lest they all get the same grade as the lowest-scoring member.

Then there was Therum; both incidences. On June Sixth, at the same time Jannie was leading 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko and Sergeant Ashley Williams through the fields of Constant, Ryder was leading an evacuation of Dig Site Alpha where everything went wrong _but_ her. Some asshole with the Oxford Team decided to loot the Serrice Team's stuff for finds, and Sara had stopped them with zero casualties or fatalities despite the Project Head blatantly ignoring her. She had also dredged up _Turians_ to aid her when the Oxford Team was nowhere to be found, having _Hasti_ Reservists lead the Serrice Team to the evacuation point, and then conducting a full-and-thorough personnel and item search of the Oxford Team, commanding Turians and Humans in a way that Jannie fully admitted was brilliant and logical. On June Fifteenth, when the Geth attacked the Dig Site, Sara had pulled out everyone, alerted her Auntie of the attack (and it was the only alert that made it past the Geth!), evacuated the entirety of the civilians from the Dig Site, and protected their retreat in a bottleneck with twelve people that brought down seven _hundred_ Geth. The only loss that they had taken, Private Mikael 'Blowjob' Holodansk, was technically on Jannie, as she was in command of the rescue mission. Therum still represented the biggest 'win' that they had against the Geth with the fewest losses while completely denying the Geth any kind of positive; denial of objective and severe limitation of civilian losses (zero, actually) while in charge of a multi-species effort cobbled together on the spot. _Her_ Sara had been in charge of that, and Jannie couldn't have been more proud.

Garrus Vakarian was almost nearly a shoe-in; he was really the only other Special Forces warrior that the _Normandy_ had. Another Academy Alumni, Garrus had gone into the Hierarchy's most elite combat unit; the Blackwatch Elite Forces Unit. For a species that looked at war as almost a religion, the Blackwatch were fringe-and-cowl above the normal _Hasti_ units that the Hierarchy flooded the enemy with whenever they wanted something dead as quickly and as messily as possible to reiterate while the Turian Military was to be appropriately feared. The Blackwatch was a tactical insertion unit that deployed behind enemy lines and into enemy holdings, delivering painfully precision assault and attacks upon strategic targets and persons, taking out vital structures, munitions, or leadership in acts that could only be described as viciously brutal. He was a veteran of several actions generally involving anti-Hierarchy actions, mostly terrorists and separatists, though he was most definitely a Relay 314 Vet as well. Include the fact that he had risen to the most prestigious Law Enforcement agency in the galaxy, the Special Crimes Unit of the Citadel Security Services, as well as the famed tactical response unit, the Rapid Response Unit, it was a wonder why Vakarian wasn't a SPECTRE himself.

He was the epitome of what Turians claimed to be; duty over self, of law and order, the quiet professional that helped those under him as well as those above him. He was military, law enforcement, leadership, and intelligence skills all rolled into one, and even Jannie had to admit that for as little that she actually liked the Turian race, Garrus Vakarian was an exemplary model of what a Palavenian could do and achieve. The fact that he worked well under a Human with no qualms or noticeable dissent pushed him above-and-beyond even his own martial race. Jannie had known Garrus for years in an off-hand manner, and despite that their first meeting had really gotten off on the wrong foot, the N7 seeing Sara cradled in the Turians' talons, hurt and crying, she had eventually calmed down enough and given the Detective the benefit of the doubt on Sara's word. And Garrus hadn't disappointed her.

She highly suspected that _that_ particular feeling was likely mutual. Perhaps she should talk to him in a more one-on-one manner and see what his thoughts were on their mission and what insights he had.

Their ship out time was coming soon as Jannie watched her crew getting in their last hugs and kisses (so to speak), smiling as she watched Ashley Williams practically toss Newt into the air before giving her a big hug, the rest of the Williams clan joining in on giving the Colonial Soldier a proper farewell. She could hear Ash singing the lyrics to _'Leavin' on a Jet Plane'_ , the sight actually making her tear up a little as the N7 watched brand-new mother and daughter making the most of the precious little time they had left. It look like Raeka was saying goodbye to the males that had brought her here (and Jannie was right, they _were_ her brothers by the way they held one another, too platonic to be lovers) while Garrus and Solona harped at one another, brother and sister getting into some playful sibling rivalry as she looked to Sara, seeing Professor Irissa T'vara getting the last kiss (so to speak)…

…and saw the Asari Matriarch get down on one knee in front of the Human female.

"Oh my God…" Jannie felt floored at the sight as her jaw practically dropped at the sight, shocked at what she was seeing. "Mark? Sara…"

"I see." The XO replied, Shepard watching as the Professor produced from somewhere in her robes a small box that easily fit in the palm of her blue hand, holding it outward towards Sara, the apparatus opened to reveal what was inside. "I didn't know Asari did it that way."

"They don't." Collins answered, obviously having spied what Jannie was seeing. The redhead felt her heart almost stop at the sight, seeing what would undoubtedly be one of the most important day's in Sara's life. Jannie quickly queued up her OmniTool and recorded the scene just in time to watch Sara practically pounce the Matriarch with a loud enough ' _yes!_ ' that practically everyone on the docks heard and looked over to see the Navy Corpsman holding the Professor tenderly, sobbing and laughing. _Scottie is going to_ kill _her for missing out on this_ , Jannie thought as she recorded it for him, knowing that Sara's twin brother would have wanted to be here for this moment. She watched as Corpsman and Professor held each other on the docks, watched as Irissa took one of Sara's hands and slipped something onto her finger. _I… I can't actually believe this is happening_ , the N7 felt the goofy smile that she had on her face, seeing Sara beaming so beautifully, snuggling the Matriarch one last time before they finally parted, Sara wiping at tears as she headed towards the deployment ramp as the crew members of the SSV _Normandy_ began to board the vessel, seeing friends and family waving. Sara gave one last look to Irissa, Shayla, Alixa, and Eloa, waving back at them as she turned and practically _bolted_ up the ramp and right towards her Auntie, her face glowing as blue eyes and a big smile presented themselves on her face as Sara practically bounced on her toes.

"Auntie!

"I'm getting _married_!"

* * *

FINE: ARC IX: Being Human

* * *

Author's Note: Dear reader, I gave you the option of selecting what you wanted to see next in 'Of Lions And Angels' as a Christmas present for my fans and readers. From mid-October to mid-November of 2018, I gave you five teaser options of crafted ideas that I had plots made up of in which _you_ got to choose where the story would go next for the month of December '18. For the month of December, you get your wish for Mass Effectmas.

I've been teasing you for half a year with the upcoming ARC. What Sara and Garrus are afraid to speak up about, have never mentioned. Not even Shepard knows what this pertains about, Sara keeping it out of fear for her Auntie's life. For months, I've crafted the concept of a mission that is on par with the 'Revan House of Horrors' from _Where The Law Stands Tall_ , where Organic Technology brings to life a concept of a 2183 version of the Frankenstein's Monster. Concepts from the final chapter of the Peacemaker Series, _Duplicity Itself_ , the partially written story called _Citadel Blues_ that was one of the original concepts for 'Of Lions and Angels', and the thought behind a loyalty mission has led me to create this ARC.

You, dear reader, have elected a path of pain and horror.

Let me introduce you to a fear you never knew you needed, to a terror hidden in the stars, where life itself is in the grasp of a madman who wishes to become a God.

Welcome, dear reader, to…

* * *

 _ **ARC X: THE RED HARVEST**_

 **Captain's Quarters, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Orbiting Trebin, Antaeus System, Hades Gamma Nebula, July 25, 2183**

There was an electronic knock on the door, and Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) saw who had knocked on her cabin door through the viewer of her personal terminal, and gave admittance. The door to her cabin slid open to let in two people, Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder and Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian. Jannie saw the both of them _march_ in, their faces stern and grim as Sara held a datapad in her hand. This was most unusual.

"Auntie, I'd like to request a SPECTRE mission for a Level Three Infraction."

Shepard was shocked, to say the least.

Sara's voice was… cold, hard, bitter. This wasn't the girl she had helped half-raised in a sisterly manner, spending time with the Ryders' on the Cit whenever her mother was on deployment or other reasons for _the Admiral_ to advance her career. This wasn't the young woman who shyly admitted to her 'Auntie' that she wanted to be a Emergency Medical Technician on the Citadel _when there were none_. This wasn't the friend that sent a plethora of vids and pics of her accomplishments, sent Chirps and EN-mails to keep connected, whose face showed enthusiasm whenever Jannie got to see her again. This wasn't the blushing tweenager who had asked about _boys_. This… was different; _she_ was different. Even Garrus looked different as well, his mandibles practically griding against his jaw, his fringe having curled slightly upward; a sign of anger and hostility for a Turian. A Level Three Infraction was a violation of the Treaty of Farixen and the Citadel Conventions, signed by every race. Regardless of species or location of the galaxy, whether a part of the Citadel Council or not, all Level Three Infractions were dealt with… severely. The leeway given to Council Agents to deal with such discrepancies were wide, vast, and seen to without impunity. Jannie could authorize a kinetic strike on a building _filled with innocent people_ and the Council of Law would pat her on the back.

Despite the monstrous act, there was a very solid reason for allowing such things; crimes against natural order.

"The violation?" The Captain asked, Jannie going professional. She had a good idea what this might be about. _The Red Harvest_.

"Illegal cloning and genetic bio-modifications." The Special Crimes Detective replied, his flanged voice harsh, almost spitting out the words. Those were certainly Level Three Infractions. Cloning of organs were allowed in authorized clinics, but only certain organs and limbs. Bio-modifications was a super no-no, the altering of the genetic structure of a sapients' DNA. Some ideas were allowed; germ-line cures to genetic diseases and maladies, genetic therapy for certain ailments. All that were allowed were recognized and voted upon by the Chamber of Governance and Council of Law, and were well defined. Jannie strongly doubted Garrus was confused by the rules and what he was describing. "Likely, multiple Level One and Two Infractions will be involved as well, tangent with the Level Three Infractions."

"The Red Harvest?" The N7 asked lightly, seeing both Human and Turian nod.

"We found him, Auntie. In the Herschel System of the Kepler Verge." The Navy Corpsman replied, her tone almost bitter. "Garrus picked up a possible transaction report that will be occurring there in three days' time. We can make it not only to stop the transaction taking place, but finally get rid of that piece of filth… forever." Ryder handed her the datapad, and Jannie looked at the top part of the information. What she saw surprised her, honestly.

"A Salarian?"

"A _two-hundred and forty-eight_ year old Salarian." Vakarian corrected her, and Shepard felt her jaw drop. No one lived near that long save for Asari or Krogan. For a Salarian? That was _six times_ their natural lifespan. Genetic bio-modification, indeed.

"And you want me to authorize this? To go after this…" _Jesus_ , Jannie was looking at some of the reported crimes. Now she got why Sara had been so scared to tell anyone about the Red Harvest. The shit she was reading didn't even make it into bad books or movies. A few of the violations… filled her with dread. _Someone's actually fucking doing this_ , Shepard realized, her soul shivering at the sight of multiple Sixth Day Crimes, what the Systems Alliance called such violations; Crimes against God and Creation. Now she understood the fear and the drive to stop it once and for all. "Holy fuck, this is true?" Jannie read the last bit of the report. Now she knew how Sara had gotten involved, seeking a geneticist out of love. It had all gone wrong, and it had cost her dearly.

 _Oh Sara, I'm so fucking sorry…_

"Yes." The Petty Officer replied, her voice bitter. Now Jannie knew why, she knew the truth. The horrible, horrible truth.

"XO?" The N7 tapped on her personal terminal to establish a link between her cabin and the bridge, opening up a personal channel. "Expedite refueling and resupplying operations and plot us a course for the Kepler Verge in the Attican Traverse, target system Herschel. And pull me up anything we can find out about the…" Jannie rechecked the datapad in her hand, " _Alexandria Station_." The name and tag indicated that it was a space-oriented outpost or station. The name tickled her memory, but Jane couldn't recall why at the moment. "I want to be there _yesterday_." There was no disguising her tone. This wasn't about being a SPECTRE, or a Level Three Infraction. This _monster_ had hurt Sara in the worst way imaginable, and Jannie was going to rip his fucking head off with her bare hands. Then she was going to glass his corpse just to make sure it was a job well done. It was going to be necessary if the report was accurate.

Someone had taken a page out of ancient Human literature and recreated Frankensteins' monster… and hadn't stopped there.

"We're going after him?" Sara asked, the bitter tone sliding away, a sound of both fear and hope in her voice. _God, kiddo, you really bore this burden for years?_ Jannie couldn't believe it. She hadn't faced anything this monstrous before. Likely, this was only half of the story; what Sara and Garrus had discovered on their own. Lord only knew what they _hadn't_ found. Shepard had a pretty good idea what they were going to discover just that… and probably so much worse.

"I'm going to reduce this cocksucker down to the sub-atomic level." The SPECTRE growled, seeing what had been done to _her_ Sara. Jannie remembered the fear she felt when Sara went missing for ten days, Scottie's panic when he called her. For over a week, the two of them had to wait for word they never knew would come or not, not known Sara's location or even if she were alive. Scottie, a sixteen-year old young man, had been in the verge of tears every day, sick with worry about his twin sister. Jannie had wanted to tear ass and find Sara, but she didn't even know which direction to start. A part of Sara's Skybulance crew, Senior Chief Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis, had both been involved as well, worried as hell about their 'little Sara', and wroth as hell that C-SEC wouldn't give any of them any answers. Sara had returned in the talon of Detective Garrus Vakarian in a stolen transport, sick and injured. The sixteen-year old had nightmares every night for months, Scottie had told her, but Sara had never uttered a word as to how or why, calling it only 'the Red Harvest'. Oh God, now Jannie knew too, what had happened. And she wanted to rip that bastard Salarian's heart out.

His days were numbered, and now the Lion of Elysium knew his fucking name.

Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon.

* * *

Author's Note: Welcome to the Red Harvest. I've mentioned it multiple times through the story, and now you're going to find out that evil truly does walk. Using the only other person in the Mass Effect Universe about as sick as Cerberus, I took a mission from the first game and crammed it full of steroids and evil. Garrus' loyalty mission just got upgraded… big time.

You're not going to want to miss out.

I've mentioned the Thark before back in MASTER OF PUPPETS, I, when Garrus recalls the last Unmapped Relay opening prior to Relay 314; the Thark opening the Relay and trading with the Kavorans, trading Mass Effect tech for slaves and wealth. The Kavorans were bombed back to their planet and their Relay locked, while the Thark had the entirety of their Fleets decimated and pretty much locked down on their planet.

I mention another minor species; the Mogwai. This would be Gizmo from _Gremlins_ , a cute teddy bear-like creature that hates light, perpetuates with water, and shouldn't eat after midnight. Not all aliens have to be big and humanoid.

The Embassies have their own building. And the C-SEC Executor's Office isn't right around the corner (that was just… stupid). C-SEC has their own Headquarters and buildings. One can find Executor Venari Pallin in the C-SEC Academy Building in the Vigilalus District of the Upper Presidium Ring, on the opposite end of the Embassy District.

The Adoption Approval Authority signature is Elizabeth 'E.G.' Daily, and a bit of an inside joke for _Mass Effect_. Elizabeth Daily has an extensive voice acting career in movies, television shows, and video games (not to mention a singing career), and was the _original_ voice for Ashley Williams before they got Kimberly Brooks. I guess that Kim Brooks was better at sounding romantic than the woman who played **Tommy Pickle** in _Rugrats_ and **Buttercup** in _The Powerpuff Girls_.

I mentioned that Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson being ( _very_ technically) a canon character; the second-oldest Williams girl, Abby. Adopting a child (in America) is generally a very righteous pain in the ass, and I remember the hoops my brother and sister-in-law went through just to adopt their nephew and niece (and they were bloodkin, not random children).

Did anyone spot Maya Brooks?

I explain the lack of N's as something that might likely happen; clean-up detail where a more thorough effort is needed instead of the Normandy crew merely lancing through a particular location for ops-denial instead of an actual victory. A small tactical team is not for breaking enemy lines, but for an objective; move in, secure/deny, move out.

Yes, I totally stole a scene from the movie _Armageddon_. At least it was a good one.

* * *

As for the other four choices from the poll, here's what you missed/could have had; four semi-canon to original mission:

 **1) Imagine… Dragons? What's that all about?**

ARC Imagine Dragons: A colony under attack by the worst of beasts in which the crew of the _Normandy_ responds to the colony of Caleston as the town of New Haven is under attack by the 'dragon' of the Mass Effect Universe; the Thresher Maw. (Changed from Edolus, and no longer a Cerberus trap)

 **2) Oh no, an asteroid is on the loose! Off to the rescue!**

ARC Bring Down The Sky: Turian separatists have taken over an asteroid to drive it into the colonial capital of Illyeria, Elysium in revenge of their defeat on Elysium and the Blitz, as well as Shepard's execution of Elanos Haliat as the _Normandy_ rushes to save a colony with a population of over eight million. (No longer Terra Nova, and no longer Batarians)

 **3) You haven't even mentioned CERBERUS yet! Giddy-up, little doggies!**

ARC Of Hell's Fury: A Human supremacy group has quietly been kidnapping Asari children in an effort to implant Eezo nodes into biotically-capable Human beings with mostly-positive results as they twist science and the values of life at any cost to 'protect' Humanity in their name; CERBERUS. (Original Mission, and probably my 'weakest' effort in terms of plot trying to come up with something original.)

 **4) A side trip to Omega? WITAF?**

ARC In The Season Of Wither: Batarian Hegemony Trade Minister and former Batarian Ambassador Eluam Jath'Amon, suspected orchestrator of all Batarian slaver actions and failed _coup_ conspirator of the Council, is currently in the Freeport of Omega, away from the protection of the Hegemony and in a location that Citadel Law holds no sway as Shepard calls upon her allies for an N-level mission; a sanctioned assassination of the right hand of the Batarian Hegemon. (Original Mission including the guy Jacob stopped from killing the Council.)


	46. The Red Harvest, I

" _The monster was never under the bed,  
_ _Because the monster was inside my head.  
_ _I fear no monster for no monster I see.  
_ _Because all this time the monster has been me."_

 _-Nikita Gill, "Wild Embers"._

Author's Notes: Mass Effect: Of Lions And Angels has hit two hallmarks; 25,000 reads in total on 11/30/18, and 4,000 reads for the month of November?

What, you guys weren't busy enough with Fallout 76 that you came over to see Newt get adopted by Ash? I'm touched!

Forward, Excelsior!

* * *

 **Medical Practice of Doctor Saelon, Abandor District, Lower Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, May 8, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Sara Elaine Ryder sat in the a room with Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon, a Salarian geneticist that she had been referred to by a Turian patient that she had worked upon during her duties as a CitEMS Emergency Medical Technician for_ Skybulance-37 _when she noticed his fresh surgical scar on his abdomen that indicated he had a transplant surgery done. The veiled responses and sidelong glances that the male Turian had given had told Sara all she needed to know; the surgery was likely not legal, and perhaps the organ in question wasn't either. The sixteen-year old young Human woman had come to the conclusion that there might possibly be a chance, and she had located the Turian, one Gordaxus Mertarin, and asked him to refer her to whom he had gone to. She had explained to him her need, why he should believe her when she said she wasn't looking to get anyone in trouble. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Gordaxus relented and told her the name of the geneticist, telling her how he could be contacted. He wasn't listed on any ExtraNet domain, CitNet site, or even on any Citadel Business Directory. A geneticist was running an illegal clinic, someone who would likely help her, no questions asked._

 _It was perfect._

" _Good Light Cycle,_ Seras _." Doctor Ingree greeted Sara warmly as he offered his hand in a customary exchange of greetings in a Salarian fashion, the young woman touching the pads of her thumb, forefinger, and middle finger to the Doctors' own in response. "I take it you found this location without trouble?"_

" _Yes, Doctor." It was quite obvious that the office-in-question was merely a rental; Doctor Ingree Saelon did not run a clinic or an office on the Cit as a permanent location would likely have him apprehended by C-SEC. Or worse. "Thank you for meeting with me on short notice._ Serah _Mertarin referred me to you when I noticed his surgical scar and I got the story out of him how he wasn't approved through the Hierarchy Social Medical Services for a replacement liver. If anything has upset you, please look at it as my fault. Gordaxus only wishes to help me as you helped him when he learned of my situation."_

" _There is nothing to worry,_ taddi _." The Doctor nodded his elderly head, a smile on his lipless mouth as his wrinkled face wizened with the action. "What I do is done by word-of-mouth. I explain to my patients to advise caution, but if anyone were in true need of help, to come into contact with me so that I may help. I am afraid that there are too many laws made by those who look to remain in power and play upon the fears of the public mind. What I do is ethical, and I am a professional. I disdain the fact that I may be lumped with some back-alley hack with only the bare basics of knowledge and technique. I am a fully-licensed practitioner of the medical sciences, and my goal is to heal."_

" _Thank you." That relieved Sara a good deal, afraid she was going to meet said back-alley hack. "I've never done anything like this before, so forgive my lack of wisdom if I make mistakes or say the wrong thing." She gestured the Doctor with her hands in the form of_ siari _, Asari unity and grace._

" _That wording and gesture…" The elder Salarian Doctor looked at her thoughtfully as his dark eyes studied her. "You are a student of the Academy. A_ Human _student."_

" _Yes, Doctor. Third-Year, Sixth in my Peerage so far." Sara replied, more than a little pride in her tone._

" _Marvelous. Dignity and intelligence in one so young, a pioneer of your species. This will be an experience." Doctor Ingree nodded, his lipless mouth smiling as he reached up to rub on of his audio horns with his thumb. "Quite marvelous, indeed. Now,_ Seras _, why is it that you sought my services."_

" _I am in need of a full set of the Human lymphatic system." Sara replied softly, trying to keep the grief out of her voice. Her response had the Salarian Doctor cock his head to one side in curiosity._

" _Lymphatic Cancer?"_

" _Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy." The young woman replied, the sixteen year old unable to veil the tone of her voice, the sadness that exuded._

" _Eezo Cancer." The Salarian identified, nodding. "You were exposed? When?"_

" _Not me. My mother." Sara replied, filling in with the details. "She was one of the first Human Biotic researchers, even before our discovery of the galaxy at large, back during our Golden Age of Exploration. We… didn't have the necessary safety protocols and knowledge at the time, it was a new science that we were discovering, pioneering new technologies and ideas. My mother was responsible for the first implants and amplification devices, and never knew that she was getting minuscule doses and exposures every time she went to work." The young woman closed her eyes, trying not to think of her mother now, half-invalid and very susceptible to infections. "I… I know that cloning_ her _lymphatic system will only give her a new set of organs where the DNA is already damaged and mutated by Eezo radiation and dust, that it would only give her months or a year at best."_

" _Yet you are a Biotic." The Doctor realized, pointing out what Sara had figured out on her one. "Your lymphatic system has adapted to your natural Eezo toxicity, adapted and utilized. You have figured out what the Turians and Batarians have not. Extraordinary." The geneticist sounded quite pleased. "ANED and the other various related maladies have been subjects to research for cures and treatment, but an effective one has never been created. But you've stumbled upon a solution; you want_ your _lymphatic system cloned for your mother, knowing that you are genetically compatible due to being her daughter, and your lymph nodes adapted for Eezo toxicity. Marvelous." There was a heavy silence as the Salarian Doctor thought over all he was discovering. "This has possibilities,_ Seras _. I cannot guarantee or predict if this will work as we hope, but… I can see that this has a great deal of merit to it."_

" _I know you can't promise success, but, it seems the likeliest of options with the greatest chances of viability." Sara replied. "I felt that it might stave off death for at least ten years, reduce a majority of the symptoms, and even respond better to some of the treatments with a set of organs that are geared towards Eezo toxicity. Asari, after all, don't have any from of Eezo Cancer because their bodies are genetically compatible. This wouldn't necessarily make a person Biotic; I believe being born with it is an absolute necessity with the lymphatic system and the nervous system attuned to the nodule system. But if we can give hope to those who serve in space for their species or have been involved in an accident where Eezo toxicity and radiation were involved…"_

" _This could change minds involving certain laws into cloning organs." The Salarian spoke out loud, his lipless mouth smiling. "Cloning a liver or a filtration organ is easy and legal. Cloning a heart requires many hoops to jump and no doubt some bribery of officials, which is where I come in for patients who do not have the time to wait for bureaucracy to move or bribing some sapient that does nothing to or for the process except look the other way." The geneticist snorted to indicate his thought upon such persons. "No, this is… ground-breaking. Monumental, even. I have been doing this for some time, saving lives under the sensor, risking imprisonment to give people a chance at life. I do not sell half-hacked work that will fail in months while charging exuberant prices like one might see in the Traverse or the Terminus. I_ pride _myself in my work, and yes, I charge exuberant prices, but you are getting expertise and warranties on my work. My reputation is my keepsake, and I do not sell knock-off products with false hopes and promises. I am a professional." There was pride in that voice, pride and dignity. This wasn't some hack with a couple of courses in medical technology and some second-hand equipment making soupy organs for those with little money and little hope. What Doctor Ingree was doing might be considered illegal… but hadn't Dad done the same exact thing for Mom? Sara thought of SAM, the medical AI that Captain Alec Clancy Ryder created to help his wife, to keep her in as much comfort as possible while staving off the inevitable for as long as possible. For that act alone, Sara had nothing but the utmost respect for the man that was her father; someone who risked everything for love and family._

 _And she was following in his very footsteps for the same reasons, for the same person; to save her mother._

" _I will set up an appointment in which we will meet." The Doctor told her, his dark eyes on her and her alone. "Obviously, my lab is not on the Cit, so I will need to transport you to my location. You will be gone for no less than two days, possibly three, so you will need to come up with a reason for your family to explain your absence so as not to arouse suspicion. I cannot perform my work while hunted, and I cannot deliver if I cannot come back to the Citadel. Discretion is paramount."_

" _I understand, and already have something that will work." Sara had figured something like this would be the case. It wouldn't be too difficult for her to be gone for a weekend, citing something along the lines of visiting her friend Eloa for a project for the Academy. "Not to sound rude, but how much will this cost? I have funds, and I figured that this will likely cost…"_

" _Free of charge."_

 _Sara's words died right there as she looked at the Doctor, stunned._

"Seras _, this is monumental." Doctor Ingree told her, his voice caring. "If this is even half-successful… this will be ground-breaking. Everyone with a family member who has been exposed to Eezo toxicity will now have hope for a better future, one in which their loved ones will stand a better chance. New treatments can be crafted while older ones stand a better chance. Civilian pressure will likely have laws changed so this endeavor can be legal, legitimate. Someone such as myself can stand to make a great deal of money if one were inclined to rob the populous, but that is not my goal." The Salarian scoffed at the notion. "If this works, even if it is only temporary, our names will be remembered, our efforts memorialized. The credibility and success alone is worthwhile, defeating death and exploring medical science to its pinnacle. What you ask for is expensive… and I have no doubt that I will more than make up for its loss within a year or two. There are literally hundreds of thousands, if not_ millions _of sapients that suffer some form of Eezo Cancer. Doctors and geneticists will clamor for the technique, companies will strive to recreate the equipment and procedure, and Universities will salivate at hosting the surgical viewings. The research paper and medical journal detailing the endeavor alone will put our names in the stars. And it is_ our _endeavor, as it will be your idea and your genetic material that will be used while it is my equipment and technique that will create the chance._

" _Together, we can hope to save hundreds of thousands, if not_ millions _."_

 _Sara was just smiling._ We… we can do it! _, she thought to herself, not even realizing what they could stumble upon. In an act to save her mother, she could save more than she could have ever hope to have done with her own hands for the rest of her life if she remained an Emergency Medical Technician with the CitEMS._ Millions of lives saved… _the Angel thought to herself, almost giddy at the prospect._

" _So,_ Seras _Ryder, there is no need to charge you." The Doctor told her, his tone kindly, filled with hope and promise. "You have walked into an untapped Eezo mine. It is only appropriate that two Alumni would come across this revelation, and I would be a poor sapient if I did not include you in half of the effort and rewards. You… have medical knowledge. What is your plan for your future?"_

" _I'm currently a Human Paramedic in the CitEMS on a Skybulance." That surprised the Doctor._

" _Wonderful. You are… perfect." The Salarian told her, smiling. "Tell me, would you wish to learn at my side, to become a partner not only in this business, but in medicine as well? I foresee a great deal of work ahead, and it is only fair that I train you not as an assistant, but as an equal."_

" _I… really?"_

" _Yes." His smile was broad and wide, and it meant everything to Sara. Hope… there was hope for her mother, for others! Sara wanted to save lives… and the road in front of her opened up with perhaps the greatest possibility ever to do just that, to save lives in an effort that no one else had discovered, given up as a failure. They could change that, bringing life and hope to those who had lost the hope for both._

 _The Salarian Geneticist smiled as she shook his hand and agreed profusely._

* * *

 **Pre-Mission Brief, Ward Room, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Mass Translation from Hades Gamma to Attican Beta, In Route To Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 **Present Day…**

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) had gathered the entirety of TEAM LION into the Ward Room for a pre-mission brief, bringing up schematics and intelligence gleaned by Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian in his investigations for one Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon. The station in question, Alexandria Station, was a rather common automated Heavy Helium Processing Station/Heavy Mineral Processing Station that used scoops and robotic drones to mine and process gas and ores in mineral-heavy systems generally less-than-populated due to lack of habitable worlds or satellites. Sadly, the United Aepheus Corporations' Autonomous Energy Processing Station was a popular one for those who wished to create illegal ports out in the black, hosting the ability to make fuel and processed minerals for sale for those who wished to delve into blackmarket trading and deals for those who wished to fly under-the-LADAR, and its many cargo holds and maintenance bays for drones and automated devices could be converted into living areas, docks, and even market places. Jannie had been on three of these kinds of stations before back during the Skyllian Blitz, pirate-ran Black Ports that were a part of Elanos Haliat's network to keep less-than-legal vessels and efforts under-the-LADAR while accumulating funds for charging said illegal endeavors. While the interiors could be modified and even added upon with modular equipment (the UAC AEPS was designed to be adaptable to many a systems' potential wealth of minerals and fuels), the basic layout would be well-known. She had several holographic displays showing such outlines and schematics of the AEPS that would be the _Alexandria Station_ in the Herschel System. Chances were that most of the automated functions were likely off-line to better mask its existence, keeping traffic low. Finding a Black Port generally consisted of following a suspected smuggler or pirates' vessel to said port, or searching out the entirety of a system to find a thermal image on the LADAR. Really, the best way was to capture a pirate or their vessel and ream any intel from them, being word-of-mouth or database for previous ports docked at.

Jannie had a strong suspicion that the station would probably be unlike anything she had ever seen, according to what Sara had painfully admitted to her between bitter sobs and grief-filled confessions. What he had done to _her_ Sara?

She was going to _melt_ this fucking Salarian and smile. After sticking him in an airlock and playing with the pressurization process for a while, watching him slowly boil alive when she brought the atmo down to near-space conditions.

Detective Vakarian handled the pre-mission brief, showing his experience as a former member of the Blackwatch, as well as his tenure as a Special Crimes Detective and member of the Rapid Response Unit. The Turian Sniper had been on this case for four years, and Jannie knew that this was personal for him, just as it was for Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder and herself. She had given him the lead, giving the Turian the opportunity to take the mission and craft it as he saw fit, having more experience with Doctor Ingree as well as having been on _Alexandria Station_ itself once before. What had perplexed Jannie and Garrus was that when Garrus had rescued Sara from the clutches of a madman, it had been from _Alexandria Station_. And the station had been in the Hershel System in the Hades Nexus cluster. Vakarian had turned over the mission to the Office of Special Tactics to complete the job, the Turian having admitted that what he had seen on the AEPS-converted base had _frightened_ him! A member of the Blackwatch! He had come to the real conclusion that he wasn't up-to-snuff for the task, and had handed it over to the organization that handled such things; the OST. Yet four years later, he was still getting quiet hits that Doctor Ingree Saelon still lived, was still practicing his butchery, at the same station in the same system no less!

Why the hell hadn't a SPECTRE been dispatched?

 _That's the sixty-four kiloCredit question, isn't it?_

Jannie watched on from the back of the Ward Room as Garrus delivered his brief, filling in on the details of the perpetrator, his crimes, the station, and expectations. Honestly, Jannie was impressed with the Turian's delivery, sticking to the fact, pointing out obvious sites-of-exploitations upon the station he likely knew just as well as the N7 for the same reasons, and cautioning to TEAM LION that the adversary was in fact on the so-called 'SPECTRE Hit List'; a sapient who had crossed the line in to something truly terrible.

He had one overall order; shoot on sight. Secondary order? Burn/melt remains into lack-of-recovery status, especially the brain.

No one in the Ward Room said a word; everyone had heard the list of crimes.

Shepard had seen the reactions of her team when Garrus displayed the many infractions committed by Doctor Saelon, each marked with either a 'suspected' status, 'witnessed' status, 'confirmed' status, or Council-level infraction. The sight and explanation of some of the infractions had horrified everyone upon learning of a BlackTech Organic Technology-related Doctor who was the modern-day equivalent of Doctor Victor Frankenstein, but so much worse. Some of TEAM LION looked at the list of crimes with faces that were going green (or their species equivalent) with realization as to what some of those terms meant. Others went dark or red with rage, understanding that innocent people were being used so horribly, so cruelly. This wasn't the act of some Sand dealer or slave-catcher; disgusting in their own right, but nothing like this.

No one questioned the shoot-on-sight order. This was a legally-sanctioned assassination mission in which they would be responsible for taking out what was so clearly a monster of the stars.

Not once did Garrus ever mention Sara's name. The Navy Corpsman never said a word throughout the entire brief. The team listened, there were a few questions for clarification, but otherwise the brief went well; expertly, honestly. Vakarian had covered many possibilities, splitting up TEAM LION into four four-man sections with four different insertion points that was actually pretty damn clever. The Turian Sniper was covering as many possibly escape routes while being able to search the station as quickly as possible for the perpetrator in question. Garrus suspected only light defenses and guards in relation to things, suggesting that half of the defense of the station was the lack of incoming/outgoing traffic, physical and electronic. Likely, any defenses would be automated, mechanical, dronecraft, or turret-based. Sapient guards were generally more competent, but required food, pay, and generally getting out every once in a while. Mechanical guards were a one-time-pay that, while they lacked sophistication, certainly didn't fall asleep on the job, either. The tactic of splitting up the sixteen-member TEAM LION into four action groups clearly had _Blackwatch Tactics_ written all over it, each team heavy and hard-hitting enough that each separate unit could solve most situations against any normal forces without issue. Each team was module, a mix of leadership, heavy infantry, Biotics, and technological exploitation that could solve most any issue one could expect, as well as having the ability to call in for reinforcements to flush and flank anything unexpected. Garrus had outlined his OPORD to her when Jannie had given him the lead and the time to plan it, and with the exception of one or two minor adjustments, she had given him the blue-light for his plan.

"TEAM RED," Garrus briefed, "will consist of Captain Shepard, Sergeant Williams, Doctor T'soni, and Private Broussard." The Turian identified the first team as he aimed a laser pointer at one of the holographic representations of _Alexandria Station_. "Your mission is the denial of escape through the main docking bay of the station. While the SSV _Normandy_ will be on station to secure the battlespace and deny escape, we want to confirm capture/kill of members who are a part of this endeavor. Merely destroying a shuttle or pinnacle without eyes-on does not mean the target is killed if they have disguised a possible escape attempt and smuggled themselves into something else to lead us into a false sense of security or victory. Williams will handle the heavy lifting," he meant heavy weapons, "while Captain Shepard will be in command of the team while also exploiting and technological opportunities. Doctor T'soni will be the main defense with her Biotics, and Private Ballsack will be flanking and support. The main means of insertion will be the M35 MAKO."

"Um… we're flying a tank?" Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard asked, surprised.

"Yes." The Turian replied. "Likely, you will be on the gun to shoot any effort to dislodge you and your mission, as well well as damaging any means of escape. Plus no one would ever dream of having an Armored Personnel Vehicle coming at them from space. Williams? You're the pilot."

"Awesome." The Soldier grinned from ear-to-ear.

"TEAM BLUE," the Turian continued, "will consist of myself, Lieutenant Alenko, Corporal Vasquez, and Seaman Negulesco. We will arrive by shuttle and be entering through a small airlock here," Vakarian pointed out an access point on the opposite end of the station's main dock, "which is where I gained entry last time. Sounds silly to repeat a process, but I know the way and we have the means to craft a hull-cutter and breach-sealer so as to not set off any decompression alarms and alert anyone to our presence. Plus with the inclusion of four separate advances, one team being discovered will give the other three that much more advantages. Lieutenant, you will be handling the breach, as well as any Biotics and technological support while _Adios_ handles any incoming. Near our entry point are a series of labs." The Sniper pointed out three rooms near the airlock. "Last time, there were victims in it. Doc Nugee? Your job is to make sure that nothing happens to them. We will have to leave them in place for the time being until the station is captured and under our control, so I need you to make sure that they stay in reasonable health until we can call for medical evacuations." That had the Hospital Corpsman nodding, understanding that she would likely be working machines to keep sapients alive.

"TEAM BROWN," the briefing moved forward, "will consist of Urdnot Wrex, Ensign Tali'Zorah, Private Balsach, and Agent Zevin. You will be landed by the _"Rey"_ on the 'north' of the station," Garrus pointed to the upper-most point of the station, "and sweep downward for any extra forces, additional labs, and any possible escape points or armories. Wrex will handle leadership and Biotics, Tali for heavy hitting and disruption of electronics, Raeka for exploitation and datamining, and Ballsack for reconnaissance and support. I expect you to find patients, as the main surgery lab was near here last time. I expect you might find Saelon first. In which you kill him.

"TEAM WHITE," the pointer went to the 'south' portion of the station, "will consist of Doc Ryder, Marshal Collins, Private Hoss, and Specialist Niki'Raan. There will be recovery rooms and… less-pleasant things down there. Doc will take lead as well as exploitation of any medical endeavors, while Sam will be the heavy hitter. Hoss, you and Niki will likely be shuttling and/or protecting patients and casualties that are down there. You will find… horrors down there."

"Um, like?" Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss asked. "I mean, no offense, but I rather be given an expectation now to lessing the shock effect."

"Medical horrors." Sara supplied, her voice bitter. It broke Jannie's heart to hear. "Living biological incubators seeded with genetic material to grow additional organs inside sustainable bodies for exploitation and sale."

"Oh… oh shit." Williams looked to the Navy Corpsman. "This is it, this is the Red Harvest?"

"…yes."

"You are saying… that this Doctor Saelon is capturing people and implanting genetic material to clone organs into them for sustainability, surgically removing them and selling them to bidders throughout the galaxy?" Zevin Raeka asked, sounding absolutely horrified. Most everyone else looked just as horrified and disgusted at the thought. Wrex was growling hard at the thought. "Sickening. This might possibly be worse than some back-alley organ cloner hacking away at genetic material for some half-cooked tissue for sale. Are the patients aware?"

"They… volunteer." Sara answered, her voice weak. If anyone had any doubts as to how the Angel knew, they were quickly being erased. _Kiddo, I'm so_ fucking _sorry,_ Jannie thought as she looked at the misery written all over her best friends' face.

"Your Mom, she was dying of Eezo Cancer." 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko got it. "You were having _your_ organs cloned for her to save her life; Biotic organs."

"Damn." Corporal Jeanette Vasquez supplied, nodding. "That's some straight-up heavy shit, Doc." The Marine Corporal immediately shut her trap once she realized something. "Oh. Fuck." TEAM LION was starting to understand that something had gone terribly wrong since Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder had passed away two years prior, most of them knowing that Sara's mother was no longer alive. "That asshole used you, didn't he?"

Her silence was answer enough.

"I need to remind you that Doctor Saelon is an incredibly intelligent being that is over two centuries old that has found a means to extend his life six times the normal Salarian lifespan." Garrus resumed, bringing the attention back to himself and away from Sara, Jannie noted. "He is a Salarian _Chenobit_ ; one of a few males in a clutch that is born gifted with generally advanced-to-genius level intellect. When people think of hyper-intelligent Salarians, they are thinking of _Chenobits_. He is also an Academy Alumni, and holds three different Doctorates; one in Xenobiology, one in Biochemistry, and one in Genetics. These are generally considered the top fields in the medical sciences, and the Doctor is a tenured Surgeon as well. He is quite possibly smarter than everyone else in this room, and I don't doubt that he will have plans, traps, and avenues to escape capture already in place. He certainly did when I engaged him last time, and I most certainly underestimated him trying to arrest him. Thus the kill order."

The Turian's eyes went to Ryder for a moment, and Shepard didn't doubt the both of them were reliving whatever it was they had really gone through. Jannie understood the gist of it, but there was a world of difference being told and being there. Garrus had gone to the Station to make an arrest; he had come out with just one singular survivor and the perpetrator alive and not in his talons. She was pretty sure she didn't even come close to knowing the whole story, neither one of them willing to divulge in the more painful details. Whatever it was had obviously frightened the both of them enough to never talk about it. Jannie knew that whatever had happened would probably come to light, but for now, she would respect their need for secrecy. No doubt the memories were painful enough without having to tell everyone whatever it was they had suffered.

Jannie had a pretty good Goddamn idea what might have occurred, and she was going to see that fucking Salarian's head removed from his body.

Garrus called to the end of the briefing, giving them the estimated time of arrival of six hours and thirty-eight minutes before they reached the Herschel System. The Turian recommended that everyone check their equipment and gear and select what they thought they needed before getting some rest before the mission. Everyone filed out slowly, and Shepard noted that Sara stayed in her seat, looking bitter and despondent as everyone left, Ash moving over to the Corpsman to give her a hug before leaving the Ward Room. Soon it was just Jannie and Sara.

"Auntie? I… I should have told you sooner." The young woman said, her voice so hollow, her blue eyes downcast, looking at her own hands. "I just… I didn't want you to face what I faced, to see what I saw…" The redhead moved over and knelt beside Ryder as Shepard put her arms around her best friend, feeling Sara leaning her head against her. "I'm scared, Auntie."

"I know, kiddo." The N replied, soothing her brunette hair as Jannie kissed her forehead, leaning her own head against Sara's. "I know that you are, and there's no reason to be ashamed of it. That monster will pay for what he's done to you, Aunt Ellen, and the others, Sara." Jannie knew deep in her heart that Sara had done exactly what Alec Ryder had done; she had broken laws out of love, to save Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder; her mother. And that monster had taken complete advantage of a sixteen-year old girl who had believed in him. Sara didn't fear the Geth, didn't fear Husks, had even faced a Krogan in single-combat without a hint of fear.

Because she feared something far, far worse.

* * *

Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams stood in front of the weapons' bench modifying Corporal Jeanette Vasquez's Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun, taking the shaver out to increase the size of the packets of metal shaved from the weapons' three kilogram ammo block that was now designed to fire more hardened metals instead of the standard NiFe Block the Systems Alliance used, going towards a harder Nickle-Iron alloy known as _Eglin Steel_. The weapon fired a seven point five gram round through its modified shaver, extractor, and barrel. The round was now twenty-five percent larger, and Ash had swapped out the power management suite, the power pack, and even the quality of the Eezo inside the weapon. What was once a medium machine gun was practically a death machine. It took her about thirty minutes to make the modifications to the weapon itself while _Adios_ worked the M56 SteadyCam Armature Carrying Harness, using the OmniForge to craft a better actuator motor and a more durable frame and skin for the SteadyCam model. While Vasquez was by no means an expect on minifabrication or crafting, she had taken tutorials and MilHack courses to get an idea on how to do the processes while looking up some common modifications to get some ideas while having Ash and Detective Garrus Vakarian to oversee her work.

"What's that for?" _Adios_ looked over to what Williams was working on, the heavy drum-like heat sink for the Marshal. Ash was scanning the item and downloading the schematic that was being queued up by the holographic display for the Ibbani Incorporateds' Unidimensional Catom OmniForge, the state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line OmniForge breaking down the schematic into a wireframe diagram while displaying the elements of the component. The M56 Marshal used what was basically known as a 'rotating' drum of heat sinks that spun when the weapon activated, the heat being collected by the ten individual sinks as they spun when each reached ninety percent heat capacity. While the Marshal could easily fire two hundred and fifty rounds before needing to be cooled down, it also fired at fifteen rounds a second, a blistering nine hundred round per minute. That meant it would go through the entirety of the heat sinks' capacity in just a shade over sixteen seconds while needing a ten second cooldown; that was an eternity in a firefight or in a desperate defense.

"Making another." The Colonial Soldier replied to the Marine, making the _Latina's_ eyebrows go up but nod at the same time as she looked at the device in question. "Best way to do this is either to double the capacity in general… or have the weapon switch off which drum it's using. Yeah, having something like a thirty-three second firing period at maximum engagement sounds awesome,but having a twenty-second period where you aren't doing shit is terrifying when you're ass deep in the slag. Having it flip which drum is being use should _technically_ give you the ability to fire until you need to reload another ammo block. Believe me, I was wishing for something like this on the ACV _Horizon_ when it was wall-to-wall Husks in a hallway like a Goddamn avalanche we were holding back with gunfire. No lies, a Marshal in that fight would have been pretty damn useful, _Adios_."

"How many were there?" Vasquez had fought Husks on Feros according to Doc Nugee and Bra, when TEAM LION had assaulted the ExoGeni Headquarters to liberate it from Geth control and to tap the database to see what it was the Geth (really, Saren) wanted.

"Four thousand." Ash replied quietly, not bothering to look at Jean, not wishing for the Marine to see the sorrow that gripped at her with the thought of that mission. She had shot kid Husks, precious little lives assimilated and converted into monstrosities. At the least… at the least Feros didn't have any kids that she knew of, the Thorian having taken them and consumed them without making their remains into some sort of plant-like monstrosity. That was what had happened to Timothy Jorden, Newt's older brother; consumed completely. TEAM LION hadn't been forced to kill child remains on Feros, thank God. Nor had those who had remained on Hadley's Hope had been forced to feed…

 _Fuck… fuckfuckfuck_ , the memories came back like a punch in the gut, and Ash felt herself trying to crush the edge of the weapons' bench with her hands by squeezing it to death. _God, I had fed injured_ Marines _to that-_

"Hey." Jeanette shoulder-checked her softly, getting Williams' attention. "You bury that _mierde_ , _comprende?_ Put the blame where it belongs and kill the fuckers for doing so."

"Yeah. Easier said than done, but yeah." The E-7 wiped at the single tear that escaped her brown eyes, knowing that Jeanette was right, though the act itself was a struggle. It was pretty easy to tell that Vas was some once-upon-a-time jumped-up thug from the streets who had crawled and dragged her ass out of whatever ghetto or _barrio_ she was from to make something out of herself, something better. Ash had more than a few Soldiers in her units with the Colonial Army that were just like her; tough-ass street-smart motherfuckers who _never_ spoke of the true cost and baggage of what they had to leave behind. Ash didn't doubt Jean probably had to bury that shit herself, along with a loved one or two. The large red 'X' tattoo on the left side of her neck was pure gang-ink, but Williams could guess why it was still there as oppose to being lased off; it was a reminder of why she left and what she left behind, not a symbol of street pride. "Anyhow, I think I'm going for the switch off option with an additional program that will let you overclock the weapons power system to take on the extra heat by ramping up the power and the rounds-per-minute in a shit situ. Can you imagine this baby pumping out at about a hundred fifty percent force and rounds fired? Turn this bitch into the Incredible Hulk of guns."

"Not bad, Gunny." The _Latina_ folded her muscular arms across her busty chest with a smirk on her dusky face, making Ash snort at the nickname for a Marine E-7, which she wasn't. "But the best guns in this can are right here." The Corporal decided to make her biceps flex-pop below her rolled-up blouse cuffs while she juked her eyebrows twice, her smile all sass. "Unless you think you can match me?"

"Shit, I already lost that competition and came in Bronze for the ladies."

" _La Captian?"_

"She came Silver." Ash replied as Vasquez frowned, wondering who had bigger arms than Captain Jane Shepard. "Skipper wasn't exactly pleased with that loss, either."

"Wait… _la piquina Angelica?_ " Jeanette asked, surprised, knowing who else had 'guns' on the SSV _Normandy_. "Doc holds the title?"

"Thirty-six centimeters. It's disgusting." There wasn't a hint of disgust in her tone at all as the Soldier smiled. Ash still wondered how the hell Sara had gotten such muscular arms at such a young age. _Lots_ of working out, obviously.

" _Joder_."

"Yep, pretty much. And she likes to rub it in." Ash knew that was Sara's way of encouraging her Auntie and Ash to try and beat her, encouragement through competition. Williams saw Sara's daily workout routine and tried to copy it. It kicked her ass. Hard. But she had seen Sara's face in the brief for the upcoming mission. _The fucking Red Harvest,_ the Sergeant frowned as she thought about all that she heard. God in Heaven, she thought the Geth bad, and then the Thorian had to take the crown. But the Thorian, as much of a motherfucker as that horror had been, was really just the pinnacle of the food chain, sadly. No, this Doctor Ingree Saelon was more like what slavers were; assholes that completely and utterly ripped away everything dear from a man or woman in the name of profit and gratification. She didn't doubt Skipper would set the fucker on fire alive and put him out several moments later only so she could do it again. Hell, Ash would dip him in gas just so she could be a part of it. Doc Ryder was a hell of a woman, one that Ash was proud of known. But Jane Shepard had known Sara _her_ entire life, saw her like a sister. If that had been Abby, Lynn, or Sarah?

The Marines that had come on from Therum were right about Doc; she absolutely had to be the toughest bitch in the galaxy to have come out of the Red Harvest still somehow sane after surviving a station filled with medical horrors and science gone wrong.

"Jean, do me a favor." Ash looked to the _Latina_ , having her attention. "I don't know what we're going to find in that station, but I imagine its going to be beyond our most vivid nightmares, and we've ran into a few ourselves. Garrus made the teams specific, I could tell without him saying it. He put me with the Skipper to make sure she doesn't fly off the handle and get into something stupid trying to hunt this asshole down. I'm pretty certain that you're with Garrus for much the same reason. He loves Sara still to this very day, and I don't doubt that our resident Turian probably wants to skin that Salarian alive and staple his ass to a wall and make him a modern art piece. You," Ash looked at Jean hard, "keep him level. You see that fucker? You waste his ass until all is left is a smear. Vakarian had a point; I don't doubt this asshole is expecting someone to eventually come knocking at his door. Garrus worked the teams where someone can make sure the job is done right and professional, making sure one of us doesn't get blinded by emotion and do something stupid. You see Saelon? You execute his ass. You'll be saving lives; ours, and God knows how many more on that station and in the future. This… this has bad written all over it in neon letters." Williams shook her head sadly. "I don't know how she does it. Sara."

"Yeah." Vasquez got it. To walk into ones' worst fear? To confront it? That took a hell of a lot more than guts and determination. Doc Ryder wasn't the revenge type either; she wasn't looking forward to seeing Doctor Ingree Saelon again, not even to put a bullet in his brain. She'd do it, but whatever demons she had were standing right by her side. "Thought I was a tough _puta_ myself with some of the _mierde_ I dealt with back in _Angelas_. Known plenty a _cholo_ or _vaquero_ who said they'd rather die than go back in, walk right into some block knowing there'd be a tussle. But this ain't nothing like that." The _Latina_ looked thoughtful. "Knew a chop-shop guy back in _El Comp_. Sold pieces off of corpses that died from gang warfare and accidents from those who couldn't afford burials or whatnot. Dead and forgotten pieces from dead and forgotten people. Buddy of mine wrecked his liver on the Grease, and got the chop-shop Doc to get him a new one. But that was some man or woman's liver, someone who had a family, had a life. Carlos hadn't cared, just fronted the twenty-five kay it cost to get the organ stuffed into him." Jeanette snorted. "Two week later Carlos is dead from… some sort of compatibility issue or some shit, like wrong blood type or his body eating away at the liver. Carlos ended up on the chop-shop Doc's table as organs for others."

"The difference was that Carlos was dead at the time." Ash supplied, and Jeanette nodded her head slowly her stomach roiling at the thought of what she had heard in the brief.

* * *

 **TEAM RED, M-35 MAKO, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

Private First Class Louise 'Brassiere' Broussard was sitting in a deployment seat of the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle as Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams manned the drivers' seat and Captain Jane Shepard sat in the gunners' seat while Doctor Liara T'soni sat in a deployment seat opposite of Bra. They were strapped in, they were ready to go.

 _Who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to shoot ourselves out of a_ ship _and into_ space _in a ground-based tank?_ Louis was actually pretty giddy at the thought; it sounded fucking awesome. They were bringing a _tank_ to a gunfight and ship-clearing operations! Any motherfucker that gave them issues would have a twenty-five gram coaxial machine gun and a one hundred and fifty-five gram cannon to say hello to. And they were literally going to be shot out of the _Normandy_ by evacuating the Cargo Bay and having the APV shot out through depressurization to 'drift' the tank towards _Alexandria Station_ , using the jump thrusters for control and acceleration. And then they were going to crash the party by blowing out the docking bay doors and _fly_ right in!

 _This is going to be so totes fucking awesome!_

"Normandy _Main, this is Lion-6, prepared for departure."_ Captain Shepard called out from her position from the gunners' seat, her words going over the SquadComm. The Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Shuttle _"Rey Kenobi"_ was prepped and reach to launch as well, second in the queue, so to speak. _"We're designating our ride the_ "Bradley Cooper" _."_

" _Who is Bradley Cooper?"_ Doctor T'soni asked, curious.

" _We'll watch_ A-Team _when we get back, Doc."_ Shepard replied, Louis having no idea who the (evidently) actor was, much less the movie. Captain had a love thing going on for the early-21st Century, so likely it was some old-ass piss-poor HD quality flick involving a bunch of crummy _computer_ special effects. The redhead had forced them to watch _The Matrix_ after leaving the Cit, and it was all Bra could do not to groan through the entirety of it (though that chick Trinity had been pretty fuckable in that leather getup). Silly concept, sillier dialog, and someone trying too hard to make a story out of an action vid. And people teased him for liking _Blasto!_

"'Bradley Cooper' _, prepare for launch, ETA one mike."_ Came the voice of Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressley, as calm as ice as they were about to execute a tactic no one had ever tried before.

" _Aaaaaaand we're back on 'Galaxy News Radio' with your host, NJ Ash!"_ Gunny began Net-Jockey'ing on the SquadComm, putting on some sass in her tone as she took the mike, so to speak. _"In commemoration to Skippers' weird-ass fascination for ancient Twenty-First Century shit, we're pulling out and dusting off the classical rap genre and bringing back the old-school with the most famous reality show theme song ever created!"_ The game show tone had Louis chuckle as he overheard said Skipper snort over the SquadComm. _"Sara? This one goes out to you."_

Broussard sat in his seat as the SSV _Normandy's_ Navigator called out the thirty-second mark as he overheard a song being played, an _ancient_ reggae beat complete with Jamaican percussions, a rockabilly guitar riff, and a reggae singer miming a Rastafarian tone as the lyrics came out and Louis couldn't help but laugh. The song, even as ancient as it was (like… two centuries!), he recognized it. Hell, likely _all_ the Humans recognized it within the first few seconds, but most definitely when the singer began to sing/rap.

" _Bad boys!  
_ _Whatcha won, watcha won, whatcha gonna do?  
_ _When Sheriff John Brown come for you?_

 _Tell me!  
_ _Whatcha wonna do?  
_ _Whatcha gonna do-oo?  
_ _Ye-hey!_

 _Bad boys, bad boy,  
_ _Whatcha gonna do?  
_ _Whatcha gonna do,  
_ _When they come for you?_

 _Bad boys, bad boy,  
_ _Whatcha gonna do?  
_ _Whatcha gonna do,  
_ _When they come for you?_ _"_

The deployment ramp dropped opened and the Kiggs Field was released as the M-35 MAKO was blasted out into the black to the _Cops_ theme song.

Louis was pretty stoked about the mission… but he remembered all too well what the mission was about, who it was about, and who it had hurt. _Some creepy-ass Salarian is turning people into organ factories_ , Broussard remembered, being sicked by the briefing that Detective Garrus Vakarian had given… and it really hadn't been descriptive except to describe what was happening to any possible victims and customers inside the station. This asshole was using people to _grow organs_ , growing them right inside their bodies! Each person was like some… biological factory in which the Salarian Doctor would cut open and remove the organs to sell. Vakarian hadn't said what happened to the person afterwards.

God, Doc had gone through this shit?

 _She did it to save her mom,_ Louis though as the MAKO soared through space, the APV being piloted by Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams as they 'flew' towards the station, only ten minutes away thanks to the Internal Emission System of the SSV _Normandy_. They couldn't afford to get too close to the station as the Stealth Frigate could actually be physically seen if someone were looking out a port window in the right direction, so the _Normandy_ -Class Frigate was far enough back that a visual scan with an eyeball would never be able to pick up a one-hundred and fifty-five meter vessel against the backdrop of space, not at ten kilometers away. So they were stealthing in at a kilometer a minute in a tank for a stealth strike and one massive eviction notice courtesy of the Lion of Elysium and her squad, plus a boot up the ass the size of a medium asteroid. Louis had lost his own mother on Elysium during the attack, taken to the same hospital that the Angel of Illyeria was famous for saving people after the Assault, but Amilia Broussard had passed away hours prior to Sara Ryder's arrival in the same wing his mother had been left to die.

Bra had never blamed the Angel for not being there, for not being able to save his mother like the many she did save; she had literally gotten to Elysium as fast as she could, and putting the blame on a thirteen year old girl was silly. Sara had gone and save lives, volunteering her efforts and practical null-knowledge to bring families back together just like she had done with her own. He respected that, respected her for it. Louis knew he would have never been able to do such a thing, and he never told Doc about his mother; Sara would only blame herself for something she had absolutely no fault in. But he understood what had happened in relation to this… Red Harvest thing. Eleven-year old Louis Broussard had wished and wished and wished there was something he could have done, anything he could have done, to save his mother. Sara had done something extraordinary _twice_ over; once in the name of her 'Auntie' that resulted in a thirteen-year old earning the Gold Ribbon for saving nearly ninety people practically written off as dead, and once to save her mother by breaking the law out of a deed that was the hallmarks of loving selflessness. But some… some fucking _cocksucker_ had used and abused a sixteen-year old girl who would have done _anything_ to save her mother, including going to an illegal cloner to create a means to prolong the life of someone she loved, the very woman who gave _her_ life. Louis got that, and his eleven-year old self would have gotten that, too. No, Louis never blamed Sara at all; he knew if his mother had lasted long enough, she would have done her damnedest to save Amilia Broussard like she had done with eighty others. And Mikael Holodansk, Hong Jeong, those of the IV Fleet, and the Marines on Feros. As tough as she was and as good as she was with firearms, Sara Ryder was a healer first; she wished to save lives.

Which was why Louis was going to turn that Salarian into a bloody fucking smear all over the floor and wall and take a pic of it for her.

 _You couldn't save my mother,_ Louis thought as the MAKO drifted through the stars and towards _Alexandria Station_ , _and I certainly can't save your mother, either._

 _But I can save you, Doc. That I can do._

"Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?" Louis sang softly to the lyrics of the _Inner Circle_ song;

"Whatcha gonna do when we come for you?"

* * *

 **UT-47 Kodiak "** _ **Rey Kenobi"**_ **,** _ **Alexandria Station**_ **, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

TEAM BLUE and TEAM BROWN had already been transported to their locations, dropped off upon the station to ready themselves to gain access when everything was set and not a moment sooner. Eight members of TEAM LION were standing on the hull of _Alexandra Station_ with hull-breaching charges and breach-sealing kits so gain access and prevent alarms from notifying the occupants of the station of their acts and locations while the main fist of the assault, the M-35 MAKO being led by Captain Shepard would start the show with a bang by blasting through the stations' dock doors with its main cannon and divert attention and forces to the hanger bay while holding a defensive position to prevent possible escape routes and give the other three teams the necessary distraction to complete their mission; securing the facility, and the hunt/capture/kill of one Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon. Secondary objectives included the securing of scientific personnel, patients, and others, with the capture/kill of any security forces, no calls for surrender given. Shepard had sent a mission update to Rear Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson of what they were doing as well as the possibility of flexing medical personnel and security forces for the station when the mission was complete.

The " _Rey Kenobi"_ had arrived at the 'southern' end of the station, the bottom-most portion of the United Aepheus Corporations' Autonomous Energy Processing Station to release the final team onto its hull before TEAM RED being led by Captain Shepard arrived at the main hanger bay in four minutes. The gullwing door opened on the shuttle, the interior having already been depressurized for the other two team departures as Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood from her deployment seat after undoing the restraining harness that kept her locked in, the boots of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor maglocked to the deck of the _"Rey"_ as Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins, Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, and Specialist Niki'Raan nar Tombay got on their feet as well, the four of them staring out into the black through the opened door of the UT-47 Kodiak as they stood in vacuum, seeing _Alexandria Station_ appearing upside-down and beneath them, the main spire's lower access hatch on-approach. Sara grabbed an 'oh-shit' bar above the egress of the shuttle and stuck herself out a little to look down at the station looming below them, seeing the access point they needed on the HUD of her Augmented Reality Overlay on the inner-curve of her helmets' visor, her SPECTRE Armors' VI software management VIOS having been downloaded with the toggled waypoint based on the stations' schematics, highlighting the airlock door. Niki had the breaching and sealing equipment on her back, and the blue-colored Quarian Rifleman looked to Sara once with a discrete nod of her _reilk_ -covered helmet, out of respect or acknowledgment, she couldn't say.

 _[Sara, is there anything I can do to help?]_ , SAM asked, his voice coming through her SquadComm and hers alone. Collins was carrying the SAM Node on her back, and while the Medical AI with its linked Boxes provided coverage against jamming and hacking of their software and communications, being near the node let Sara talk to her 'little brother'. Normally he didn't converse with her during missions, understanding the very real severity and concentration needed, only mentioning something if he 'noticed' something that no one else had. _[By your vitals, I can tell you are quite nervous and afraid. I… worry for you]_

"Thank you, SAM." Sara said after turning her SquadComm to private, keeping the conversation between herself and SAM private. Most everyone on the _Normandy_ was under the impression that SAM was a _SPECTRE_ AI used for hacking, electronic countermeasures, and interference of hostile forces. Only a few were aware that SAM had been created by Captain Alec Clancy Ryder to save the life of the woman he loved and the mother of his children. "SAM? This is the asshole that… that…"

 _[I know, Sara]_ , SAM replied, his tone… strangely saddened. _[I am here for you, and will gladly help with any task that you need. You tried to save Ellen, had come up with a means to either prolong or ensure her survival, and Doctor Saelon took advantage of you]_ The Medical AI went silent for a moment, but Sara sense there was something more.

 _[She was my mother, too]_

"SAM…" Sara blinked away tears that grew in her eyes, her heart skipping a beat. SAM had thwarted Mom's death for five years, keeping her as comfortable and as healthy as he could. He had been _a part_ of her; her thoughts, her fears, her passions… her family. SAM was more than an invention or an Artificial Intelligence to Sara; he was the one that gave her the time and the possibility to enjoy knowing her mother further, to see her as a woman and not just a parent, to share _her_ hopes and dreams to the one that had given her and her twin brother life. That final day, when her condition had progressed well beyond the point of no return and Doctor Ellen Harlow-Ryder had hours to live, Sara had finally confessed to her mother what had happened on _Alexandria Station_ two years prior, what she had done and why. Her mother hadn't blamed her at all, though she had been properly fearful at the potential loss of her daughter. Mom hadn't blamed Sara for what had happened, hadn't held it against her at all. Like Dad, Sara had desecrated law in the name of love and life, pushing beyond social stigma and taboo to save someone she loved so very much. SAM knew too, thanks to that confession. "SAM, I am afraid. I look at this station… and all I can see is Mom wasting away before me, how horrible I felt for failing her. I wanted her to live, to give her life back. I know it's selfish to think this way…"

 _[It is not, Sara. Both you and I know that you did not do this out of selfishness]_

"I just…" There was always a part of her that felt like she failed her mother, as if there had been something _she_ could have done, somehow _she_ had made a mistake. Had she used the wrong words? Had she angered the Salarian to where he didn't believe in her need? Or had she simply gone to the wrong person? Whatever the case, it had cost her greatly; the life of her mother… and so much worse. Looking at the station as they moved into position, she couldn't help but remember the first time she had seen it, how _hopeful_ she had felt, the joy of the knowledge that _she was going to save her mothers' life!_ From a cancer that no one else had cured or found an effect form of treatment for! Sara had been so excited, ready to brave that pioneering frontier of medical science and audacity, willing to break the rule in the name of life itself, to save a person that meant so much for her. _I wanted to save her, so she could be there,_ Sara closed her eyes to stem the tears, her helmet preventing her from wiping at them. _I wanted Dad home and not out in the black desperate for a cure. I wanted Scottie to see her healthy and whole… happy._ Mom's sickness had robbed her so horribly, and Sara had come up with an idea that could have fixed her, could have healed her. Perhaps it would have worked for ten years or so, but that would have been ten years of _life!_ The chance to be happy, the possibility of seeing a grandchild, of being able to grow old with her husband.

A gentle hand went to her shoulder, and Sara was surprised to see that it was Niki'Raan who was giving her comfort.

" _I lost my parents, too,"_ the Pilgrim said softly, her vocalizer blinking with her words. _"A plague went through the Migrant Fleet, took both my parents and Tali's mother. If there had even been the slightest of hopes I could have stopped it, I would have done the same thing you did, Doc."_ The hand gripped her shoulder, and though Sara couldn't feel it through her armor, she knew what the Migrant Fleet Marine-hopeful meant to deliver.

"Thanks, Niki."

" _We'll get that_ bosh'tet. _Wrex might have a recipe for Salarian steak."_ An emoticon popped up on the outer curve of her faceplate, showing an evil smile. That had Sara snort; she wondered who had taught the Rannochian Human emotive lexicon. " _Ready for this?"_ The Pilgrim asked as she pulled out her Rannoch Industries' Adas Electrostatic Discharge Rifle from her chest, loading a tag into its barrel and cocking it ready.

"I don't know, Niki. I really don't." The shuttle was now over their release point, a spot ten meters over the access hatch, where there were no windows.

" _Well, that's why you have us, luck, and_ lots _of ammo."_ The Quarian tapped at her hardcase ammo pouches where her electromagnetic tags and Universal Power Cells were located, not to mention her sustainment bag filled with grenades, demolition charges, breaching charges, grenades, hacking tools, and God (and the Ancestors) knew what else. _"We'll get this_ bosh'tet, _and you can tell your Ancestors you buried this_ tuho _in a black hole where he deserves."_

"It's a start." Sara replied with a soft smile, tapping her own hand on Niki's knowing that when she couldn't be strong, she had friends and family who would be strong for her. _Mom? If you ever get a chance to look down upon me from Heaven, look down today._ She pulled her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon from her chest and switched it for 'fun'. Four beings stepped off of the _"Rey Kenobi"_ , the shuttle parallel to the door, the gullwing door facing it as they each 'stepped' off the shuttle and floated towards the hull of _Alexandria Station_ , there to stop a sapient who stepped into the domain of God. She thought about the ring on the finger of her left hand, allowing herself one last thought and prayer before turning it off; it was mission time, and Sara prepared herself. _This isn't about revenge._

 _It's punishment._

* * *

 **Port Dock 47-** _ **Baraka**_ **, Kithoi Enders, Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, May 12, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the Kithoi Enders in a transportation port where goods were flown in and out of the Cit, common items ranging from materials, foodstuff, clothing, commerce goods, and 'Gels imported in and exported out while dockworkers moved items in and out of cargo ships with heavy equipment to carry the cargo containers, smaller parcels, and stacks of boxes that were OmniGel'ed together to secure it from falling over. Many of the dockworkers were Turians and Salarians, generally what one saw for the 'blue collar' types, as her Dad would say about those who_ truly _kept the galaxy spinning. There were a few others, of course; Humans, Elcor, Drell, Hanar, even Asari lifting and stacking goods for distribution throughout the Kithoi Arm in response to is final destination via its district and whatever business or residence required it, many of the smaller personal parcels being delivered by Galactic Parcel Service or Citadel Express. Most everyone was in a green work-related robe indicating that they were transportation teamsters a part of the Intergalactic Cargomaster Workers' Union, and intruding further might get her into trouble. She had gotten the message to come to Port Dock 47-_ Baraka _at this date and time, and Sara had made a fake itinerary to cover for her absence from the Cit… again. She didn't want Mom to worry with Dad working with some science firm to procure different technologies to find some sort of cure for ANED out in the Pax System, and Scottie had two BiotiBall games for the next two days. An impromptu 'school project' and her working with Eloa'Varis nar Thessia, and she would be cleared for three days with everyone none the wiser, just in time to return to school and pick up her shift on_ Skybulance-37 _._

 _Plenty of time for her trip to save her mother._

"Seras _Ryder?" A Turian in common armor appeared from one of the docks, standing in a manner that was polite. "A mutual friend of our said to give you this datapad to view." In his talons was a common datapad, and Sara took a step forward and took it, not at all recognizing the brown-plated Turian with the dark green markings of the Taetrus Colony; generally not one a Human would enjoy seeing. There was a vid already loaded and ready to play, a helpful icon in the middle of the holographic screen as Sara touched it to play the vid._

" _Seras_ Ryder, _" came the voice and image of Doctor Ingree Saelon,_ "I must apologize that I was unable to come, a good many things I needed to do in preparation for our plan. Also, it is a good idea that I'm seen as little and as far between as possible on the Cit. The next time should be for your mother's surgery, not in C-SEC's gentle grace. The Turian you see before you is a representative of Elanus Risk Control Services; a professional escort for your travels. He will see you safely to me and make sure that we are uninterrupted in our business." _The file ended and auto-deleted, and Sara watched as the screen fizzled out of existence and a small waif of smoke and the smell of burnt electronics came to her nose. The solid state drive had fried itself internally. That shocked her a little bit as she realized that this was a_ criminal _dealing; she was about to break the law. Clandestine meetings, mercenary bodyguard, self-destructing messages? This was a bit over her head._

No, think about Mom, _Sara reminded herself, wiping her fingerprints off of the frame of the datapad with her Cit-robe before tossing the worthless electronic device to the ground._

" _Lead the way,_ Serah _. I am ready."_

" _The doctor said you were both brave and smart." The Turian replied, nodding his fringed head. "Come this way,_ Seras _Ryder._

" _Our flight is waiting."_

 _As young Human woman and Turian escort turned to leave the Citadel by heading towards a vessel that was a registered small transport under a false name carrying false cargo, neither one of them noticed that they were being followed by a member of the Special Crimes Unit._

* * *

Author's Note: Hold onto your gullets; this is going to get _real fucking_ ugly. If you've ever read the 'Revan' Arc from _Where The Law Stands Tall_ , then you'll see some similarities.

 _Bad Boys_ , Inner Circle, 1987 (I don't know if this is actually the most 'famous' theme song, but it's certainly very recognizable and likely to hold this accolade.) It is also technically a reggae song.

Galaxy News Radio; when one dog is too low, and two just isn't enough! - _Three Dog,_ _Fallout 3_.

The color codes for the team names are the 'common' platoon colors for the Army (ie. 1st Platoon is generally Red Platoon, 2nd is Blue, 3rd is White, etc.) as a common means of not truly identifying an effort to the enemy in case of radio/signal exploitation (radio capture, signal capture, or crypto capture). Generally, names are not said over a radio as positions will have a numerical identifier for the position (for instance, Red-1 is generally the Platoon Leader/Lieutenant position of 1st Platoon, while the '6' identifier is the Commanding Officer of a unit, such as a Company/Troop/Battery, Battalion/Squadron, Brigade, etc). Any additional identifiers (such as the 'Golf' designation while would be a Gunner for a truck, or 'Delta' for driver) will look/sound like Red-1-Delta. Specializations (such as Medics, Forward Observers, CBRN Officers, extra-unit personnel such as snipers or sappers in a unit not their own) generally have a separate numerical code (the head medic in a unit is generally '73' in the Army, though you generally will just hear 'Red-4-Mike' for a platoon medic).

The Alphanumerical code in the future will be based on celestial constellations for omni-lateral purposes. 'Alpha' is 'Andromeda', 'Bravo' is 'Betelgeuse', 'Charlie' is 'Cygnus', etc. Sara, Ballsack, Lapdance, and Bra were from Red Platoon, Betelgeuse Company, Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Infantry Regiment (1B3/7 MAR). If I identify another letter, I will explain it.

And yes, I named the MAKO 'Bradley Cooper' after his part in the movie _A-Team_ (*sigh*, yes I know, not a great movie) in which he does 'fly' a tank (which I took a line from Jessica Biel from that movie). To think he barely had a career after _Alias_ (yes, I remember him from that far back. OLD!). I mention this act _wwaayy_ back as a blurb in _The Battle Of LaGrange Point, I_ , when I describe the Systems Alliance Naval Academy class of the _Prom Night Special_ , mentioning how the _Normandy_ sent fake distress signals by probe, spoofed ship signatures… and using a M-35 MAKO as a boarding vessel. Here you go, the worst driver in the galaxy is going to lawn dart a tank into a space station. Enjoy! :-D

I make a slight ubiquitous reference during Bra's referral to _The Matrix_ with Shewolfe9's _Shrine of Lies_ found in the Mass Effect category. The only person brave enough to describe Sara Ryder as _'Pathfinder. Female. Fuckable._ ' in a story and completely get away with it. Laughpee was involved.

In Canon, the Mako has a 155mm main cannon and a coaxal machine gun of unknown size. A 155mm is generally the size of an artillery round, while as a 105mm is generally the common 'tank' round on Abrams, Challengers, Leopolds, and Merkavas. I changed it to 'gram' as since the making of _Where The Law Stands Tall_ , I've made weapons that fire ammunition based on weight, not size (5.56g ammunition instead of 5.56mm, etc.). Since the game is based on weight (gee… _Mass Effect_ , it's right on the title) this seems to be a logical change especially if one reads the Canon description of some of the infantry-based weaponry like the Avenger and the Lancer (firing packets of metal that are shaved off based on the targets' armor and defensive statistics based on auto-targeting software, etc.).

I'm giving you an idea what will be found on _Alexandria Station_ ; something touched upon by Garrus in the game, people being used as living petri dishes to grow extra organs. But… it can be worse.

So totes stole the _Punisher_ tagline.

Yes, I made a _Mass Effect_ version of UPS and FedEx. As a joke. I've worked for UPS as a holiday delivery driver. And damn they pay good. The beginning part of Port Dock-47 _Baraka_ was in fact from that time emptying trucks and loading trucks, and then delivering parcels for the Christmas season.

Yes, I used a _Mission: Impossible_ device.

I reformatted this ARC into something a little different; there will be flashbacks of Sara and Garrus from 2179 inserted to fill in on what happened to the resident sniper and Corpsman. It will jump around a little bit, but I'll try to make sure it goes with the story.


	47. The Red Harvest, II

_BioWare/EA: we own thiASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL!_

 **TEAM RED, "Front Door", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

Author's Note: Surprisingly, the theme to this ARC is based off the old-school 'Rainbow Six' video/computer game ( _not_ the R6V games from X-Box 360, but the ones from the 90's!) where tactical finesse and choice between characters strengths increased your odds of success.

Two things about this date; 12/7.

First? Pearl Harbor Day (77 years ago) so this goes out to all those who were there in Hawaii that day and those who served in WWII.

Second? This story is now nine months old and still going.

For now? Knuckle up!

You're about to kick in the front door with a Lion! MAKO-style! :-)

* * *

" _Skipper? ETA to front door, thirty seconds."_

"Roger, Army." Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) called out from her position in the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle as they drifted through space "Teams? Update ready status." Everyone had at least four minutes to set breaching charges and portable atmo barriers to infiltrate _Alexandria Station_ , to break into the facility without setting off an alarm and a normal hull-breach lockdown. TEAM RED was to be the doorknocker; they were to grab the attention of whoever was on-board and bring any kind of defenses to them.

They were bringing a tank to a VBSS fight; the assholes were going to need as much luck as they could pray for.

 _[TEAM BLUE set]_ , came the duel-toned voice of Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian at the 'rear door' position.

 _[TEAM WHITE set]_ , answered Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder, her tone pure professionalism. Good.

 _[TEAM BROWN set]_ , replied Urdnot Wrex, his deep rumble indicating he was looking forward to this.

"This is RED-1," Shepard called out, her right hand already on the MAKO's weapons trigger, having sighted on the main hanger door of _Alexandria Station_ , the holographic crosshair on the image of the closed bay doors, "all TEAMs commence entry operations in three… two… one… _BREACH!_ " Jannie thumbed the trigger of the main cannon of the Armored Personnel Vehicle, the one-hundred and fifty-five gram round exiting the barrel at a percent of the speed of light and slamming itself right into the weakest point of the main hanger door; the seam where the bottom section and upper section connected right in the middle of the ingress/egress port where spaceborne vessels were to enter/exit. The round penetrated through the natural weak point of the station, piercing it with little difficulty as it punched a hole big enough for a person to crawl through. Unfortunately for the door, the hull was pressurized and physics took over as the vacuum of space began to suck everything out through the hole right along the seam of the pressure doors… the metal ripping away as the breach grew larger. Jannie put another round right next to the hole that she made, enlarging the breach as something flew _out_ of the facility and breach that she had made, what looked to be a Turian-made Trebin Astronaticals' V-23 _Apaltus_ Personnel Delivery Vessel slammed into the breach and forced through, broadening the hole as the small-crew shuttle shattered and scattered from the force of being ripped through a small hole, making the breach more than large enough to put a tank through.

" _Don't see that everyday."_ Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams coined over the SquadComm with mild amusement as she maneuvered the M-35 MAKO with the aid of its jump thrusters and boost thrusters, 'flying' the tank towards the entry point. _"Brace for controlled crashing."_

Jannie watched the holographic display of the station filling her screen as the hole 'swallowed' them and artificial gravity making them drop to the deck as the APV slammed into a small pinnacle berthed in the dock, knocking the small vessel over as its hull crumpled when introduced to the armor-plated hull of the MAKO at a high rate of speed, the pinnacle practically staved in the middle as the M-35 grinded to a halt somewhere in the middle of the main hanger with a squeal of metal and pops from rapid thermalization as the near-zero hull of the tank entered into the balmy temperatures of _Alexandria Station_ , whatever condensation was on the tank heating up rapidly and boiling off as steam waifed off the vehicle.

"TEAM RED, deploy and conduct local security and five-by-twenty-fives." Shepard put out as she unbuckled herself from the Gunner's Seat, sliding out of the lifted cupola of the APV and onto the main deck of the cargo area/personnel area as Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard mashed the deployment ramp button at the aft of the tank, dropping the ramp as he swept his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle from right-to-left before sweeping back left-to-right on the ground, looking for any immediate threats at range and then any possible dangers on the ground before stepping off the ramp and into the station proper. Doctor Liara T'soni was right behind the Marine, her Hydra Armaments' M-113 Drake Assault Rifle in her hands as she took a position beside Bra as Jannie stepped out as well, her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M249 Typhoon Squad Automatic Weapon coming into her hands from its maglocked place on her back, opting for totality instead of precision since she knew this would likely be a more defensive fight on her behalf instead of a tactical insertion-and-exploitation operation. She had modified the weapon pretty extensively to bring down the weight, control the heavy recoil, dialing the rate-of-fire down a little for better accuracy, and crafted a more efficient heat sink for better capacity. Oh yeah, she got rid of that stupid-ass 'gunshield' attached to the weapon for extra protection. All it did was weight the weapon down and get in the way.

Jannie took a flanking position as she swept the Typhoon on the port side to see for any security personnel or devices as well as noting any access points to the hanger bay. The stations' alarms were blaring overhead, and she noted that an emergency Kiggs field had already dropped over the 'breach' of the door, atmospherics on the rise on the inside of the sealed portion of the station they had just flushed out with tank fire. Jannie was pleased to note that several of the small-crew vessels inside the hanger were now listing or moved from their moors, making them that much more difficult to use if anyone tried to acquire them.

" _Area's secured, Skipper."_ Williams called out, her Kassa Fabrications' M76 Reverent Light Machine Gun in her hands, scanning the 'back' of the dock where the main door into the station was located, only two minor accesses to the port and starboard of the bay. _"If there was anyone here when we knocked, they were either sucked out or got smacked into something hard."_

"Agreed." The N7 noted, not seeing any movement in the hanger while all three doors remained closed. "TEAMs? Update." Jannie heard every Team Leader announce the success of their infiltration, timed with the 'noisy' entrance of the MAKO. TEAM BLUE, WHITE, and BROWN had breached their way inside and had reported their positions as inside the station itself instead of just the access airlocks. Everything was going according to plan. "Copy, _Canus Majoris_. RED-1 out." Jannie told them the codeword to 'continue mission' before turning off the Squad-Link of her SquadComm, reverting it back to Team-Level so her words remained only with TEAM RED. She wasn't going to micromanage the teams; that's why she had Garrus pick people with leadership skills and histories. "Bra? Take Gunner's seat and secure perimeter while Williams, T'soni, and myself secure and disable the extra vessels."

" _Hoo-rah."_ The Marine piped up as he entered the MAKO through the deployment ramp to take the defensive position in the armored vehicle, able to hold out against likely anything this station might possess. The whole point of TEAM RED was to create a distraction and make enough noise to that the other three teams could action in on their objectives while Jannie and her team pulled in whatever security forces and equipment existed on _Alexandria Station_. Which is why they brought a tank, two personnel-carried machine guns, and the most powerful Biotic the SSV _Normandy_ had. _"RED-1, this is RED-Gemini. Defensive perimeter with eyes on all three doors for access denial."_

"Roger, Gemini. Keep eyes on and call out anything that strikes you as odd." Shepard was actually pretty pleased with how Bra worked and thought. Despite the general opinion of Marines being 'Jarheads', Broussard was obviously of the more-intelligent variety. Which was why she had him in TEAM RED; she needed someone competent that she didn't need to keep eyes on or babysit, unlike Ballsack and Lapdance. They were good Marines, but leaving them by themselves wasn't exactly recommended. "Ghost, Bastila? Move to port side and scan for any life signs." The custom-made contragravity combat drone Ghost chirped in compliance as it floated off to the left while the contragravity armored assault turret Bastila disengaged from her back and hovered over to where Ghost was clearing the corner nearest the hanger bay doors on the port side, where several small vessels were blocking the possibility of seeing the entirety of the hanger bay, creating dead spaces with their bulks. "Team, head to starboard side and prepare to clear and disable vessels." _Aye aye_ came from both the Colonial Soldier and the Protheantologist as Shepard took the lead, shouldering her Typhoon SAW and began clearing the 'near' corner of the starboard side of the hanger bay, starting near the exterior spaceside door and working her way around to where shuttles, pinnacles, and asteroid-jumpers were moored and somewhat scattered after the MAKO's explosive entrance. The N7's Typhoon scanned everything as her green eyes darted to any possible location a sapient, mech, droid, drone, or booby trap could exist. Years of training and experience had her an expert at detecting such things as Jannie eyeballed each shuttle, each nook, and each cranny.

"Ash, prepare to rip out instrumentals out of each vessel as we clear them." The Level Three Council Agent informed the Colonial Soldier as she cleared the first vessel, a Salarian-made pinnacle.

" _Captain, if I may?"_ Doctor T'soni interjected politely as she raised a left hand, swooped it in a particular fashion and cast it forth into the cockpit area. Jannie watched as the 'dash' of the vessel was torn out, several vital components being 'pulled' out of the metal housing and smashing into the back cabin of the craft.

"That's handy." That actually worked out better than she hoped, and certainly better than setting explosives or firing into a contraption that could possibly explode, if unlikely. "Will you be able o do that for every single one of them?" There were almost a dozen space-worthy vessels inside the hanger bay.

" _Easily."_ The Protheantologist replied, her helmeted head nodding once.

"Alright then. Let's do it."

* * *

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May 12, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

" _Ah, welcome_ Seras _Ryder!" The form of Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon appeared before Sara Elaine Ryder as she stepped out of a Trebin Astronaticals' V-23_ Apaltus _Personnel Delivery Vessel and onto a small space station that didn't orbit any planet, moon, or even situated near an asteroid belt. As far as being hidden, the location was perfect as the system in question didn't seem to get all that much traffic, and Sara couldn't recall anything of importance about the Herschel System when her Turian escort announced their arrival after exiting the Mass Relay and giving her an estimated time of arrival as to when they would reach Doctor Saelon's base of operations. The space station itself seemed to be a repurposed energy-oriented harvesting station meant to scoop gaseous elements from gas giants for processing into fuels as well as fracking ores dug out from mineral-laden planets for hauling. On the outside, it looked benign. On the inside, it looked… well-maintained. Friendly, even. The hanger bay that Sara found herself stepping in had several smaller craft for use, suggesting a small personally-owned port, and that the station was likely a small-scale operation that devoted to the care and needs for those on-board. It wasn't the Cit or the Arc, but it wasn't some trash-and-thrash piece of junk heaped and cobbled together by some independent company of 'free enterprisers' out in the black pirating on people like one saw on ENetFlix shows or vids. The bay was clean, orderly, well-lit, and the vessels in question looked to be in good shape and repair. A professional dock for a professional (if illegal) business. "I hope the trip went well."_

" _It was quick and without incident, Doctor." The young Human woman replied with a nod of her head and a smile as the Doctor approached her, wearing a traditional Salarian-oriented labsuit on his thin frame, and even a small device on the side of his right temple that was likely connected to medical diagnosing equipment, a holographic viewer or augmented reality display unit to aid in any endeavor with his patients. "I am glad that you were able to see me so soon. My mother… took a turn for the worse the other day, I'm afraid. An embolism." Sara had to stop herself before she began to cry, remembering when she got home from the Academy to the family condominium to find her mother unconscious and with labored breathing. "Sorry! That's not on you, and… I just worry."_

" _I understand,_ taddi _." The Salarian placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder in comfort. "You wish to save your mother; there is nothing wrong with this. Now that we are both here, we can start the process that will help her survive her condition as well as be able to help many others with similar maladies. Together, we can work to where you need not have to worry about her health. Come,_ Seras _, my laboratory is this way and I can describe the details of the process that will help save your mother's life."_

" _T-thank you." Sara wiped at a tear, the stress and grief and_ hope _all roiling within her, her heart pounding hard in her chest. She wanted this to work_ so badly _, to save her mothers' life. Ever since she had been diagnosed with ANED three years prior, it was like living with the pall of Death overhanging everything. Despite SAM and his glorious efforts to keep Mom comfortable and alive… it was really just a matter of time. But SAM had bought her that precious time, and now Sara was going to make sure that it was worth it._

 _Hundreds of thousands of lives were at stake… maybe millions._ We can save them _, the young Human woman thought as the Salarian led her deeper into the hanger bay as the escort who had flew her here accompanied them in a normal fashion, just following them more than escorting them. None of them looked back or noticed the_ third _figure that extracted itself from the vessel that had arrived, following quietly, keeping its presence discrete as the Salarian Doctor and young Human woman went to the doors that would take them away from the hanger and deeper into the station._

" _Now,_ Seras _," the Doctor began as he walked beside Sara, keeping his longer stride slower so as not to force her to walk faster, "I will warn you that this procedure is by no means orthodox or without its risks. To ask you to do this, I want you to know that I value the idea of informed consent and observe the Laws of Sapient Care despite operating without scrutiny or oversight. I, after all, view myself as a professional and as a healer." Sara nodded, understanding. "To begin, I will let you know that to extract genetic material to clone an organ, the best way to do so is to take it from the source."_

" _So… you need a piece of my lymph node." She kind of figured that would be the case, likely a needle inserted into the organ in question and DNA extracted. "Needle biopsy or… something less invasive?"_

" _Less invasive, sadly." The Geneticist replied. "The more genetic material I can extract, the better quality the cloned organ will be. I learned long ago that the issue with cloning is not only the quality, but amount as well. Life is perpetuated through a growing amount of strands of genetic material, and an entire body is billion-billions of material replicating. Trying to create an organ or a system out of a few thousand strands increases the likelihood of genetic flaws or damage because if there are any natural deviations or flaws, they will quickly grow abundant from lack of source material. The larger the sample, the more material that is worked with, and the chances of a correct organ increases. A several gram specimen of each organ in question will be needed, I'm afraid, but I make the process as invasive as possible for not only quick recovery, but also lessen the chances of discovery as well. I most certainly doubt you wish to be discovered as to our actions."_

" _I understand." The thought of having surgical removal of portions of her lymph nodes had Sara little queasy, but the Doctor certainly had good reason in his methods. Everyone knew why cloning organs was such a hotly-contested issue and while doing so without a license from a proper University or Hospital was slammed upon by the Council of Law. The thought that as much genetic material was needed to successfully making a viable organ was sound while as taking only a few cells would certainly mean that said organ would likely grow incorrectly due to natural flaws and damages that a lifetime could bring. A few grams of tissue didn't sound… horrible. Such surgery could be healed in days or a week or two with little complications to the body. And Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy was a form of lymphoma that shut down the body's ability to fight infections and regulated the fluids and cell that created the blood-brain barrier. Sara knew once that barrier was gone, her mother would be dead, unable to prevent diseases and fluids from entering the passages into her central nervous system and spinal fluids. They continued down the corridor of the station, the young Human woman seeing several doors that indicated rooms, but no one else in the hallways or any indication what were in the rooms. Likely, the entire station was a guise so that Doctor Saelon could work in secrecy, with a few autonomous systems to regulate and keep functional the station while the Doctor worked. Chances were there weren't many (if any) other people on board_ Alexandria Station _save perhaps a patient or two, or someone like herself. "How long will the procedure take?"_

" _Several hours, sadly." The Geneticist replied as they walked. "There are five to six hundred lymph nodes in the Human body, though most remain in the trunk or torso region. The tissues I will need will need to come from the major clusters in the upper thoracic region, under the arms, in the neck, and under the legs in the pelvic region. There we can extra dozens of samples quite easily without having to perform incisions throughout the body, as well as gleaning samples from major lymph nodes instead of secondary. I propose an hour per section, and six areas to work on. For your comfort, I shall put you under generalized anesthesia so when you wake up, we will be done. You shall be returned to the Citadel within a day barring any unforeseen complications. I don't predict any, but both you and I know that there is always a possibility, and I would like you to remain while I investigate your genetic material for viability. It is better to do it now to make sure that the work is satisfactory as oppose to risk capture making multiple trips. I am certain you do not wish to miss any of your schooling days at the Academy."_

" _Okay. I can certainly live with that." Sara replied, and everything the Salarian said made sense. She had done labwork at the Academy, studying different organisms such as bacterial decomposition of tissues and how diseases worked under a nanoscope, and everything that the Geneticist had said sounded_ exactly _how the Academy ran a Biology lab._ This is how a professional does it, how a Doctor does it _, the young Human woman thought, feeling a little giddy. She was going to do it! She was going to create the chance her mother needed! Yes, there would be awkward questions later when Mom got better and someone did a check-up and found her lymphocyte count was getting better and had less damage, but Sara knew that her father was out in the black trying to find a means to discover a cure. Captain Alec Ryder would forge some sort of plausible explanation to ensure his wife's survival (not to mention his daughters' involvement with illegal cloning) before trying to work the right people into the idea that could cure ANED… maybe even other diseases and maladies. Oh, Dad would be pissed as hell at first, but Sara knew he would see the light pretty quickly when his wife and the mother of his children was making a turn for the better. She knew that Dad had stepped on a lot of toes try to develop a cure for Eezo cancer, finding exotic (and sometime illegal) methods to do so. She wanted to tell him, she really did, but Sara didn't want her Dad to worry and shut down the idea at the tiniest risk towards his daughter at the chance to thwart death and defy the impossible at something so completely profound._

 _Cloning was illegal because there was markets filled with idiots who thought immortality could be gained by cloning new organs to replace aging ones, or curing the Genophage by replicating a Krogans' quadraple set of testicles, or (dear God) creating an entirely new body from scratch for a wide variety of sick and scary purposes. There had been some sort of shadow war about two centuries or so back when Organic Technology had truly unlocked the mysteries of genetic manipulation and exploitation, and some Traverse Warlord had made himself an actual_ clone _army of Turians and Krogan to wipe out his competition and take sole possession of the Attican Traverse. Tens of thousands of easy-bake Turians and Krogans had drowned other warlords and planetary dictators with numbers, multiple bloodbaths and massacres ensuing as some Salarian Warlord named 'Harte' had begun to conquer expanses of the Traverse. While that wasn't anything new, per se, some warlord out in non-Council Space always having some harebrained idea that_ he _should be some sort of conqueror or emperor, what got the attention of the Council of Law and the Office of Special Tactics was that the number of his forces never truly depleted despite losses, always seemingly able to field an army that never dropped in numbers despite not having some government back him or mercenary forces hired to bolster numbers. It had originally be thought that Warlord Harte had a slave army of some sort, but the numbers didn't add up; there hadn't been an increase in raids and captures during those times, and the Warlords' forces weren't capturing enemy forces and arming them for their cause, either. When it had been discovered what Harte had been doing, the Council had absolutely_ slammed _upon the idea of Organic Technology, unleashing the Hierarchy Navy, the Republican Navy and the Office of Special Tactics upon the Traverse with the sole purpose of eliminating anything and everything dealing with the Warlord, his forces, and his means of creating a clone army._

 _It was the last instance of the Council calling for a 'glassing'; the utter annihilation of the main location of an Enemy of the Galaxy._

 _As the Salarian led the young Human woman towards an appropriate door, inviting her in, the silent stalker paused and thought about all he heard, opting to get more intelligence as he recalled the situation he had with his own mother._

* * *

 **TEAM BLUE, "Back Door", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 _[BREACH!]_

With the words of Captain Jane Catherine Shepard over the SquadComm, Seaman Monica Valerie Negulesco watched as 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko thumb the breaching charge that would blast open a sapient-sized hole for them to enter through while deploying a Kiggs atmospheric barrier to prevent a breach alarm or depressurization sensor from being set off. A meter-by-meter chunk of metal was separated from the exterior airlock door as the Hospital Corpsman stood on the hull of _Alexandria Station_ , protected from the rigors of space by her Kassa Fabrications' HyperGuardian Medium Expeditionary Armor, a little unnerved at standing _in the middle of space and vacuum_ while waiting for an explosion to go off. This was her first Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure operation, though she had done the mandatory one in Boot Camp. She was 'unofficially' attached to Corporal Jeanette Maria Sanchez Vasquez's side, the Corporal having done this on a number of occasions both in training and mission-wise, so Doc Nugee was to follow _Adios_ and do what she did. Vas was to also look out for Doc and protect her, like a Marine was suppose to with a Corpsman, and Jean had no issues with that, giving her a friendly thump on the armored shoulder before exited the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Vessel _"Rey Kenobi"_ before leaping off a perfectly good shuttle and into _space_ before landing on the hull of a station with her maglock boots. Monica had followed suite, her stomach doing a lazy flipflop when she went grav-less in between shuttle and station, a part of her brain screaming at being weightless and without surface to purchase upon before her feet hit hull.

Throwing up in her helmet had been a fight she won… just barely.

The chunk of Alumnisteel hull flew away from the breaching charge as a semi-translucent blue film covered the crafted hole in the exterior airlock door to prevent atmo from bursting out, the Kiggs field generated by the same charge used to take a calculated portion of the hull out, the device a two-in-one piece of equipment crafted by Human combat engineers for VBSS and hostage rescue. Detective Garrus Vakarian (callsign ' _Virgo_ ') was the first to enter into the breach, doing a maneuver that looked akin to an acrobatic roll to go from a null-grav to full-grav environment by flipping himself forward and into the breach so that he could land on his feet inside the airlock with its atmosphere, pressure, and gravity. He made it look so easy! Vas was next as she gripped something on the hull and did something akin to a cartwheel, her feet going in first to where the _Latina_ slid into the hole feet-first and landed on her feet as well, pulling herself into an upright position like she had done it a hundred times. El-tee looked at her with a nod, and it was time for Doc to 'take the plunge' as it was called.

Monica cheated by simply bending her legs to where she could step onto the frame of the breach that was at a ninety degree angle of how she stood, stepping up, forward, and _towards_ the ledge and then stepping into the airlock. She wasn't about to fumble and embarrass herself with fancy gymnastics moves she'd never performed before, going with the tried-and-true method taught in Boot. Nugee got inside without issues or despairing comments from the others as she went deeper into the airlock to give room for the combat engineer as Lieutenant Alenko slipped in a fashion that was more of a monkey-bar swing by leaning over the breach, catching the edge and maneuvering his feet and body into the hole to land in a crouch.

Okay, she was going to have to practice if she didn't want to look like a complete newb.

" _El-tee, door."_ Vakarian ordered softly as Doc went to one side of the interior airlock door, hoisting her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle to her shoulder as she took a knee to engage any hostiles as the Special Crimes Detective took the opposite side with his Rapid Response Unit-issued ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle.

Corporal Jeanette Vasquez took front and center, her Aegohr Munitions' Kestrel Heavy Combat Armor expensively crafted to boost combat performance of a warrior. Chief Ryder had given Vasquez options on what she wanted in terms of improvements to her armor and weapons, and the _Latina_ had surprised most everyone by going to a _Salarian_ armor manufacturer for a custom set of armor that was designed to turn a Salarian soldier into something akin to righteous wrath on the battlefield, increasing shields, stability, power, and performance of its user. Jeanette had done just that during their week-long Liberty on the Cit, getting fitted for the armor and paying a rather pretty Credit it for it, financed by Doc Ryder. Vas knew that she would likely be front-and-center of any engagement, the largest target and the pivot point of any assault or defense, and had wanted armor that would compliment that endeavor. Garrus and Sara had taken the customized armor when it had been completed and had added a layer of ablative paint to the surface, energized plating weave under the plates of armor, a hardening weave to her underarmor combat suit, micromotorized joints to the suits' mechanical exoskeleton, a First Aid medical interface to her software, shock absorption interface to the legs and boots, extra shield batteries and capacitors to her belt, and an regulated energized weave for power distribution and efficiency.

Effectively, they had practically made her a _Human_ member of the Final Line; those titans of the Blackwatch who covered retreats by deploying in hot zones and _never_ retreating until the enemy or they were dead.

So when Lieutenant Alenko opened the interior airlock door by hacking past the security console, Vasquez had her upgraded Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun with its twin heat drums leveled and ready to destroy anything hostile, able to take a beating and dish out hell.

"¡Claro!" The _Latina_ called out, her Marshal sweeping left-and-right quickly, her helmeted head pivoting as well to scan the corridor quickly and efficiently as Monica's M-96 Mattock, Garrus's M-15 Vindicator, and Kaidan's Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle added to the potential devastation they could cause in case they needed to fight their way out of the airlock. Thankfully, the corridor was bereft of any signs of life, nothing in its environs as Nugee got up from her crotch to slip inside several meters, taking a position equidistant with Vakarian, setting a foothold in the station as Jeanette bounded forward, her heavily-armored body able to move as easily as if she were wearing heavy Human armor thanks to the fine manufacturing by the Salarian customizer who had no doubt been shocked to see a Human female asking him for the best armor to come out of the Salarian Union with a permission slip from a Council Agent to authorize the request. The Salarian's reaction to that one had been rather priceless.

Monica took a knee at her position as both Detective Vakarian and Lieutenant Alenko began working on their separate OmniTools, Garrus his Cipritine Armories' Nordash OmniTool while Kaidan worked on his Ariake Technologies' Logic Arrest OmniTool, the both of them scanning for any alarms or notifications of their presence during their breach and infiltration. Her Mattock was held steadily in her hands as she guarded her sector of fire with her eyes peering through the visor of her helmet, her Heads-Up Display showing only the green outlines of her team members, their software fingerprints identified and downloaded onto her VIOS software suite so that they could be tracked even beyond her line of sight and to reduce the possibility of fratricide. Both men worked their OmniTools for a moment as Vas and herself held their positions, seeing an empty corridor in front of them with only a series of doors to either the port or starboard of the hallway, all of them closed. No one was moving in or out of them, and no one was certainly traveling on the decks of _Alexandria Station_ where they could be spotted. So far so good.

" _I'm not detecting any alerts to our presence."_ Lieutenant Alenko finally acknowledged, looking up from his Logic Arrest OmniTool. _"Plenty about the hanger bay being breached and suffering a depressurization. I don't know if the station manager is aware that it was a forced entry or not, but they've alerted security forces to investigate."_

" _Looks like the station is mostly automated."_ Vakarian was still working on his Nordash OmniTool. _"The best way to keep its presence hidden is to have as few organic pieces involved as possible. You'd be surprise how often we can find Black Sites just like this one through food orders and porn searches on the ExtraNet."_ That had Nugee stick her tongue out a little at the thought. Of course, she really didn't have much room to talk anymore, not after… well, Kyle.

" _Stop thinking about your stripper boyfriend, Doc." Adios_ called out quietly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I'm not!" Monica was rather glad her HyperGuardian helmet covered the vast majority of her face and that the visor was tinted with a reflective surface so no one could see that she was blushing. "And he isn't a stripper!"

" _Oh? You didn't meet him in a fashion entertainment review and get invited for a much more private viewing at a hotel room and then his personal apartment?"_ The Turian asked dryly, though he was a little amused, too. Whoever had told him that, Monica was going to anesthesia them and induce a massive case of strep throat to prevent them from talking _ever again_.

"Can we talk about _anything else_ in the galaxy other than my love life?" God, her cheeks were burning bright. Everyone was teasing her about her so-called 'sexcapades' on the Cit with Kyle Phillips as if she were running around the Cit with only one thing on her mind. "And technically, he isn't a stripper."

" _That would require clothing for him to take off."_ Kaidan observed, nodding his own helmeted head, his Kassa Fabrications' Inferno Heavy Armor visor looking right at her, and she could almost imaging him smirking. _"Saves time."_

"I… urgh!" Vas was chuckling through her vox as Garrus finished up with his OmniTool, having done a sweep in front of them with some program that detected movement of air molecules that worked as a motion detector and even sapient locater through breathing.

" _We're just happy for you. And teasing the shit out of you, Doc."_ Vasquez said, her tone still mirthful. _"My first wasn't a stud stripper wearing a pair of Crocs. I just think most of the ladies are jealous you pretty much one-up'ed everyone on that department."_

" _Anything else_ in the galaxy." Monica reminded them, getting Alenko to chuckle lightly as he fabricated a small contragravity access drone that would plug itself into various pieces of electronics and technology to find hidden back doors for access, usually meant for disabling explosives or defeating PGP security systems, having been upgraded with scripts and exploitation software by Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, their hacker guru. "I'm not bringing up the three separate _cholos_ you had when we were on the Cit, Vas."

" _Yeah, but I didn't blush my way to their beds or bring them to the docks to kiss me goodbye, either."_ The Marine pointed out, making Negulesco growl in frustration. She just wasn't going to win this battle. _"So is he a portside husband, or are you trading sexy EN-mails?"_

"That is none of your darn business." The blush was returning, dang it. Kyle had been pretty charmed to learn that Monica hadn't been with a guy before, and he had made it quite special and _very_ memorable. After that first night, when Nugee rediscovered how to walk properly again (they had both been _quite_ vigorous), Kyle had surprised her by being a gentleman who had taken her own on tours of the Cit, showing her not only fun places to hang out, but some cultural things. Kyle had come to the Cit to be an artist, doing graphical designs for advertisements and video games, but competition was fierce and the profession not quite as well-paying for a location like the center of the known universe. Lollipops had started off as a means to make ends meet, but he had gotten good at it and soon it became his 'Creditmaker', so to speak. The Mars-born man had been doing it for a year or so and had found himself not really enjoying being just seen as a temporary sex object. So when Monica had told him of what she was doing, where she was doing it, and her own views, she found out that deep inside Kyle was a man who, like herself, had hopes and dreams and wanted a future with a woman in his life with children, too. They had connected together well, and yeah, it didn't hurt that she could practically play tic-tac-toe on his abs. What had surprised her was that he had found her attractive as well when she…

" _Mind back in the game, Doc."_ Vas reminded her, making Monica flinch. _"I can practically see you drooling through your helmet."_ Drat.

" _We'll tease her later."_ Vakarian confirmed as he switched off his OmniTool. _"Vas, prepare to cover as we investigate these rooms. Last time they were empty, but who knows what four years might have changed. Everyone expect the worst, and then add to it."_ The Turian said as he reminded them all of where they were and what they were about to do. The light levity of the teasing had been a nice break from the seriousness of their mission, but they had a job to complete.

They were about to discover what was inside what Chief Ryder had called 'the House of Horrors'.

* * *

 **TEAM BROWN, "North Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 _Sha'me_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was holding her Rannoch Industries' Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emission Shotgun in her three-fingered hands as her silvery eyes scanned the incoming displays and markers on the inside of her visors' SMARTglass viewer as her VIOS software suite SHODAN took multiple telemetry readings from her EnviroSuits' sensors on her duel Armali Councils' Nexus OmniTools as well as her AeroGel-crafted Utility Drone, Chatika vas Paus. There were also other telemetry readings coming from her Quarian-manufactured Rannoch Industries' QuArmor EnviroSuit (Migrant Fleet Marine Engineer variant), a gift to both she and her cousin Niki'Raan nar Tombay received from Lady Eloa'Varis nar Thessia vas Armali, the Lady of the Chamber. The armor was electomagnetically adhered to her EnviroSuit, plates that would protect the vital locations and organs of her body while keeping her mobile enough to utilize the speed and flexibility inherent to Quarians. Both Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder and Detective Vakarian had gone over the armor to see if any improvements were needed considering the missions they were on, and with the exception of of an additional ballistic hardening weave for extra resistance from rounds and explosives, the mylomar fabric hardening with kinetic force for added protection without extra weight or hampering movement, they had both deemed the armored additions both worthy and more than effective.

Of course, the best defense was good cover and an accurate shot to the enemy's face, but Tali was comforted that she had more advanced armor than even Captain Shepard had gone out of her way to provide.

The corridor leading from the 'north' access was bereft of anything organic as Tali had SHODAN search for any signals; electronic, signal, and even device noise. The VIOS was in the middle of a two-prong attack, one being a Man-in-the-Middle Attack that tried to impersonate or represent itself as a 'trusted' source to intercept any kind of communications, be it signal or data, while the other being a 'search engine' side attack that 'listened' for any receiver transmissions and hardware noises to log in any access keys gleaned from physical noises or connect to any minor unprotected devices such as music players or SelfieCams on monitor devices. The scripts were running at full efficiency, a sidebar tabulating the data collected to the right side of her SMARTglass while interpreting any kind of exploitable devices by 'shading' them with outlines, even through walls. She had taken point in the corridor when they had entered, the smallest of the group, trying to be as tactical and as quiet as possible when TEAM BROWN entered into the facility unannounced and undiscovered. In a team of heavy hitters and superior firepower, it was she that was the secret weapon; a dataware hacktivist.

Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach called her 'the invisible fist'. He wasn't far off.

" _Pret_ ," Tali spoke softly over her SquadComm to the Team Leader Urdnot Wrex, having learned to use her helmets' vox only when necessary and to turn of the indicator light when on mission for light discipline, "I'm seeing several unprotected medical devices in the next several rooms to both our port and starboard. There is no indication of protected devices such as OmniTools or computers within fifty meters of our location. It's as good as I can get to saying that we shouldn't have any company without opening a door and sticking my helmet in."

" _Understood."_ _Pret_ Urdnot Wrex replied softly, his rumbling voice no less intense with a drop in decibels. Likely, he knew that _'Pret'_ meant 'Lieutenant' in _Keelish_ , or 'one-in-charge'. Captain Shepard expressed that they were not to use names in communications, even with an AI to help secure their transmissions and signals. It was just good OpSec. _"Sagittarius, move forward and listen in."_ That was Agent Zevin Raeka's callsign, after some _Human_ constellation… which made a sort of sense, Tali guessed. There were more Humans than not on TEAM LION, and most non-Human sapients wouldn't recognize the names _as_ Human because they were from some forgotten Human language long ago, untranslated through common translation software, and even unidentified as to what language or species that used it. A _Human_ would recognize it as their own, but even if they were listening in, that would only think it the name of some patterning of stars from Earth's point-of-reference. As she understood it, a _Sagittarius_ was an archer, and the Salarian sniper had been amused at the reference. The Special Tasks Groups' Reconnaissance Specialist moved forward to the first door to the starboard side, activating one of her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTools and using a vibration sensor to detect noises from beyond a DuraPlast door; essentially, an acoustic noise detector. The Salarian Not-Dalatrass listened for a moment and with a shaking of her head in the negative, went to the opposite end of the hall to listen to the other door while Tali and Ballsack pulled security, her Reegar Carbine and the Marines' Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle pointing down the corridor ready to defend their teammate while Wrex occupied the center of the hall, too large to make himself unobtrusive. He hoisted his Nakmor Arms' Graal Korogish Hunting Shotgun that would deliver a twenty-five gram spike of metal that generally killed anything less than a ton with a single shot. There were _ship weapons_ that were smaller than the Krogan weapon designed to pierce Thresher Maw hide.

" _Nothing. No voices, footsteps, or clattering of work."_ The helmeted head of Zevin Raeka turned to face the rest of TEAM BROWN. _"Only one way to be sure."_

" _Knock knock."_ Ballsack replied, Tali rolling her eyes at the dumb Human-oriented joke that generally ended with some crude or raunchy punchline.

" _I'll take the first."_ Wrex said, moving to the door. _"I can take a hit, and I can lift anything to the ceiling without damaging anything inside with gunfire."_ That had the Quarian Pilgrim impressed with the Krogan big game hunter. He wasn't at all like the reputation of his kin and species; some bloody-thirsty maniac looking to turn into paste anything that annoyed him. He could be subtle and quiet when needed, and an organic force of devastation when warranted. He didn't start fights, but he always finished them with simple efficiency, generally a large round to the head or heart (or processor core, in the Geth's case). He didn't argue, didn't get in anyone's face, and didn't intimidate anyone… well, more so than any one tonne Krogan needed just standing in a room. He either left you alone… or you earned yourself a very messy death. Wrex was nice like that. Raeka stepped aside and queued up the doors' activation mechanism as the Krogan lumbered into the room with his massive presence.

" _Clear of hostiles…"_ , the voice came over the SquadComm, _"but I'm going to need Sagittarius to tell me what I'm looking at. Don't chuck up in your helmet."_ Zorah shared a looked with Ballsack, her silvery eyes touching the Human's where they laid behind the narrow clear visor of his Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor helmet, hazel eyes looking at her own. _Ancestors, did we find what the Captain feared?_ She watched as the Salarian Agent entered into the room with her Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle in her hands, disappearing into the room when the Quarian and the Human held their position, guarding their teams' backs as they investigated whatever it was had been discovered in the room.

" _Oh… oh_ Void… _"_ Came the transmission a few seconds later, and the Pilgrim could tell by the tone of the Not-Dalatrass's voice that it was quite likely they had walked into a 'horror show'. _"These people…"_ Tali could feel her soul roil a little at the thought of _people_ ; more than one. How many? She couldn't say, but she would have to guess more than a couple. A dozen? More? _"_ Taurus _… this is worse than what we imagined or guessed."_ ' _Taurus'_ was Wrex's personal callsign, after his planet of birth instead of his species. 'Bull' seemed appropriate.

" _Take a moment to figure out what's been done to them and what's keeping them here."_ The Krogan replied softly, his tone disgusted. Despite the common view of the Tuchankans, there were few things that one _did not do_ around a Krogan. Hurting a child of any species was one of them. Anything that defiled the body was another. One only had to think of the Genophage that wracked their species and what it did to their viability to understand where that view came from. _"We're not solving it now, but we need an idea to pass on."_

" _I understand."_ Raeka didn't sound pleased, but she wasn't arguing it, either. Tali wasn't sure she wanted to know what could bother that magnificent female who had looked upon Tali and Niki as equals and had faced the worst of horrors alongside TEAM LION without blanching. If it disturbed the Salarian, it was likely extremely horrific.

 _Sara's eluded to this,_ Zorah thought with a pang in her heart, _but I think we're finding out that words can never truly convey something we need to fear._

"Taurus, _"_ Raeka began after a few minutes of obvious investigation while the Pilgrim continued to hold her position in the corridor, _"these sentients are being kept alive with medical machines, mostly plasma dialysis and electronic impulses to keep the cardiovascular system operational with the inclusion of respirators. They are being fed intravenously to keep them in a coma-like state. They are… asleep."_

" _To what purpose?"_ The Krogan asked, neither arguing or asking silly questions, keeping it to the point.

" _WHITE-1 was correct; they're biological incubators. Extra organs are being grown inside of them for future harvest."_

 _Dear Ancestors, I want to throw up._

" _All of them?"_

" _All of them. Multiple organs and biological systems for each. This one,"_ Raeka swallowed so hard that even Tali could hear it over the SquadComm, _"this Turian has two extra hearts, an extra liver, three kidneys, and several additional plates that are almost at full maturity according to this medical update. And then there is the rampant tumors and growths of the failures that_ didn't _mature properly that were left behind…_ slu'ha mei wa. _"_ That last part didn't translate, but Tali could imagine well enough. What the STG Agent had described… Ancestors! _"If… if we take him off any of these life support systems, he will die from shock and system malfunction quickly. A few hours, at best. And I don't see how any reasonable or exception medical intervention will improve his chances. This…"_ there was grief and rage in the Salarian's voice, barely contained, _"this poor male has suffered something far more horrific than I've ever encountered or heard of. And one of_ MY _kind did it to him."_ There was no mistaking Raeka's stance on that. How would Tali have felt to discover that a Quarian had been doing this? Devastated, at the very least. The Salarian returned to the corridor, moving in only a semi-conscious way, likely numbed by what she had seen, her mind probably still reeling. Tali put a soft hand on Raeka's armored shoulder, getting the Salarians' ovaloid helmet to look at her.

"I don't know how to make this right," Zorah told the Not-Dalatrass, "but it starts now, and it starts with us."

" _Yes. Thank you."_ The Salarian replied, taking a deep steadying breath. _"Tali?_ Thank you. _"_ The Pilgrim knew that the Salarian was likely a long drift from being right or fine, but the Quarian had said the right words that Raeka needed to hear, to let her know that none of them viewed this as the Not-Dalatrass's fault, nor blaming her because a member of her species had done something so sickening. Tali fought the curiosity that wanted her to look into the room for a quick peek, but refrained. She knew she wouldn't want to be gawked at like some novelty.

" _TEAM RED, this is TEAM BROWN…"_ Wrex called up, getting Captain Shepard's attention over the SquadComm.

* * *

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May 12, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Sara Elaine Ryder found herself standing in what looked to be something quite akin to a normal Doctors' office, complete with a medical table, various investigative instruments for the monitoring of basic vitals and readings, pieces of medical equipment for swabs, blood draws, and invasive checks, and a datapad on a counter so that someone could detail and note all that had been discovered. The similarity put her at ease, discovering that Doctor Vorhen Nisuses Ben Vares Tol Ingree Saelon was what he said he was; a professional. He had been educated at the Presidium Academy of Education and had gone to the University of Talat, the most prestigious school in the Salarian Union, located in the capital of Sur'kesh to become both a Medical Doctor and a Geneticist. He was a Salarian_ Chenobit _, that much was obvious, the five percent of Salarian males born in a clutch that were naturally more intelligent than the rest of their brothers. In the ancient days of Sur'kesh, when they were hunter/gatherers,_ Chenobits _ruled the Salarian Clans while the Dalatrasses raised their broods and created trade laws in between clans and families. The vast majority of males were practically fodder; manual labor, hunters, builders, and farmers that kept their society functioning. But it was the_ Chenobits _that were the leadership of the Salarian race, and overseen by their sisters and mothers. Doctor Ingree Saelon was one of these hyperintelligent beings that likely held multiple degrees and doctorates, using his boundless intelligence and increased cerebellum to strive forward for the sake of clan and species. That he had figured out a means to craft correct cloning wasn't that far of a stretch for a_ Chenobit _, and Sara briefly wondered if his clan, his Mother Dalatrass, or his Sister Dalatrass knew of his endeavors and gave silent approval. That wasn't that far of a stretch, either._

" _To begin, I will be needing a simple blood sample and Human DNA swab to check for any pathogens or anomalies." Sara nodded as the Salarian Doctor took a small hypodermic device and pressed it against her forearm, pulling the physical trigger as he took a gram of blood and skin tissue in one act, the process immediately and hardly painful. Sara instinctively rubbed the site, not even feeling pain and barely noticing the divot in her flesh from the extraction. The Geneticist was taking the sample and placing it into the scanner of a IntergenX's RapidHIT 200 Gene Analyzer, the spectrometer and genetic material sequencing machine as the VIOS of the machine scanned the tissue samples and began displaying the contents onto a holographic projection screen. "Ah… beautiful." The Salarian was looking at the display as Sara observed curiously. "No genetic modifications that one sees so commonly amongst Humanity."_

" _I was born on the Cit. No environmental damages or pollution, and my parents were born in either an environmentally-sealed Arcology or off in a location where the background radiation and pollution was much lower than the norm." Sara replied, knowing that Earth's environment had tumbled out-of-control back in the early 22nd Century, the biosphere having difficulty sustaining certain species that were needed for a healthy ecosystem. Pollution and nuclear radiation had devastated hundreds of thousands of species of bacteria, insects, marine life, and small organisms that were natural parts of Earth's biome, and the early years of the 22nd Century had been a bit of a disaster with a runaway environment and the struggle for people to grow food to feed the explosively-increasing amount of mouths of Humanity as the population reached fifteen billion, underdeveloped nations on Earth unable to control population growth while the more developed nations tried to hold everything together through politics, military action, and technology._

 _The answer had laid in the stars as concentrated efforts of colonization and exploration shuttled Mankind to the Solar colonies to relieve the burden on Man's homeworld as well as growing food in other locations that were struggling to sustain. There had been… regrettable but necessary decisions made for the sake of survival such as the sending of half a_ billion _people in generation ships to colonize local star systems to create biological preserves in case Earth's biosphere faltered and imploded, many of the colonists having been selected and sent without their knowledge, approval… or consent. The colonies became the first independent planetary nations of mankind, but their opinion of what had been done to them was_ very _dim, and to this day, the Human Independent League still refused to submit to any Earth-bound governance, including the Systems Alliance._

 _Genetic modification was almost a Human-norm (and a Citadel headache) when things got so bad, genetic diseases and cancers wracking Humanity before the discovery of the Prothean Archives on Mars. At first, it had been to help people ailing from diseases, illnesses, cancers, and maladies. But by the time of the 2140's, about ten percent of Humanity had been_ born _with genetic corrections to stave off potential natalcide; children were being born stillborn from malignant tumors while growing in the womb from pollution and genetic damage from the parents. It was a very horrific portion of history from Earth, the days when Mankind really was looking at the last possible generations of its existence. Exploration and the technologies of the galaxy had staved off the possibility of the demise of a Garden World, and today terraformation of Earth back to a cleaner, more sustainable environment was on-going, predicting another century of work before all the pollution and nuclear damage was removed permanently. Mankind had almost committed Auto-Genocide, and the horrors of it were slowly but surely being corrected. Sara and her twin brother, thankfully, had been born in the pristine environment of the Citadel, and had been born without the need of any genetic correction despite being born Biotically-capable. That particular mutation had been… quietly encouraged upon her parents at the time, Biotics oh so very rare amongst Humanity and seen as a positive gift._

 _Of course, it was killing her mother, too._

" _I see natural inclusions of quite a few positive benefits,_ Seras _." The Salarian continued to study the binary helix of her genetic information, her genes laid bare. In some ways, it was a little embarrassing to her, as if someone were trying to peep at her. "There was a long period of time when Salarians practice eugenics through breeding contracts, genetic studies, and ancestral genealogy. Contracts are still employed, of course, but it is seen as traditional. But many maladies were staved through selective breeding, though I wonder if we were right to do so. 'Forcing' evolution can get out of hand, creating sub-straits and sub-species that are otherwise undesirable._ Chenobits _were one of the fascinations of our ancestors, originally trying to impress more than one or two per clutch into a much larger number. In that, they succeeded, but the rest of our brothers suffered from a drop of intelligence in return, I'm afraid. The average Salarian is less intelligent that the average Turian or Human, and with a shorter lifespan and no prospects for their future, I feel that the endeavor, while successful for its target, was a failure over all. I do not believe our ancestors wished to make their brothers less intellectual."_

" _I think we've all made our mistakes that we look back in shame and guilt." Sara replied, thinking of some of the things she had learned about with Humanity's past as well as that of some of the other species. The Turian Hierarchy had been responsible for the devastation of no less than three viable worlds during the First Unification War before their discovery during the Krogan Rebellions, and Tuchanka itself was a world whose ravaged environment was damn near inhospitable even for the planets' hearty species. "If we fail to learn from our mistakes, then we truly have made a grave mistake."_

" _True." The Doctor looked to her with a lipless smile. "And today I will strive to correct one of those mistakes. The laws that have kept good people from receiving the care and treatments that they need may very well change with this endeavor, with your help. With so many sapients ill with damaged or destroyed organs, unable to receive the necessary care, unable to get a donated organ? We can impress upon the galaxy itself the need for this process, to help change lives and the view of the galaxy. No longer will we be held in check by the views of politimongering sycophants who lord over us from a few chairs by a decision made two centuries prior…" Sara was listening, but she felt a little queasy, a little dizzy, "…a mistake made because…" she tried to stay awake, shaking her head to keep her heavy eyes open, "…a few elected idiots…" her head lolled and the room faded slowly to black. "Ah, the injection is takin…"_

 _Sara didn't even stay conscious enough to feel herself fall back upon the medical table._

* * *

TEAM RED, "Front Door", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183

TEAM RED had quickly cleared and disabled the vessels on the starboard side when Jannie got her first update.

 _[TEAM RED, this is TEAM BROWN,]_ the deep grumble of Urdnot Wrex came over the SquadComm, _[found a whole lot of patients asleep in a lab. BROWN-Sagittarius,]_ that was Agent Zevin Raeka's callsign, _[thinks they're in a chemical coma. They're in a bad way, RED]_

"Torture? Enslavement?"

 _[Medical experimentation, bad ones]_ , the Krogan replied, making Jannie's heart shutter. Sara had eluded to some of the things that she and Garrus had encountered, but that had just been words. TEAM BROWN was now likely finding out the truth of it. _[Never seen anything this bad. Looks like the idea was to grow as many organs as possible in a body. Most everyone will throw up at the sight]_ That had Shepard a little queasy at the thought, trying to imagine how bad it was. If a Krogan thought it was bad… _[Might be a mercy to end them peacefully while they sleep. Most of them will not enjoy waking up]_

"Leave them be for the time being." Jannie finally ordered, letting out a slow breath as she did as she tried to picture what Wrex might be seeing. "You might be right about the last bit, but it will be better to keep them as they are and determine what choices and options they have, as well as family members who might not appreciate us just killing their bloodkin out of hand. Clear the lab, don't change anything, and physically weld the door shut if you have to. We found them alive, and we'll keep them alive."

 _[Understood]_ , the Krogan replied, neither happy or dissatisfied with the answer. There wasn't a good one, and likely Wrex knew that. Most wouldn't necessarily see a mercy-killing as a good thing, especially family members who suffered having gaps in their families only to have the hope of those members from every returning via a round to the head shattered, no matter how well-meaning'ed. Jannie suspected that something like this would occur.

" _RED-1, RED-Gemini,"_ came the voice of Private Broussard from the MAKO, " _main interior hanger bay door just opened up, and company is coming."_

"What is it?"

" _Droidekas,"_ the Marine answered.

 _Fuck._

" _What are those?"_ Liara asked as Ash cursed inside her Rosenkov Materials' Titan Heavy Combat Armor helmet, readying her Kassa Fabrications' M-76 Reverent Light Machine Gun for a firefight.

"Salarian roller droids." Shepard answered quickly as she heard the chattering of gunfire from the MAKO's coaxial machine gun, the ten-gram machine gun spitting death as Jannie took to a cover position behind one of the shuttles, seeing an easy double-hands' worth of spherical robotic droids rolling on the ground at a fast pace, stopping inside the hanger bay and telescopically unfolding themselves as kinetic shielding defended them from the incoming rounds as twin automatic weapons at the end of their 'arms' began to open up on the Armored Personnel Vehicle. The N7 winced at the sight of the Salarian-owned Colicoid Creations' number one product; a robotic security droid with kinetic shielding, good armor, a weapons that ranged from light machine guns to munition launchers. They were well-crafted, expensive, and employed by many a firm, company, business, and less-than-legitimate entity for security and protection. Sadly, the Droidekas generally had better shields, armor, and weapons than most Systems Alliance Marines and Turian Hierarchy _Hasti_ Soldiers, and a couple could easily ground a squad and inflict casualties and fatalities if not dealt with judiciously. She spied ten of them opening up on the MAKO, and while the tank was armored and firing back, such a sustained assault would likely cause some damage to the vehicle, perhaps even extensive damage. And who was to say how many of the droids were on the station, how many were coming, and from which direction?

This is why Jannie wanted her TEAM to have the firepower; just for this very thing.

"Ash? Get some hockey pucks ready." The N7 called out as her left hand dipped to a hardcase at her waist, pulling out two M68 All-Purpose Explosive Disc Devices, generally known as 'Puck Grenades'. Used as an anti-personnel device, a breaching charge, a door opener, and a wide variety of creative applications, the disk grenade was common munition for the N's in the Teams. Shepard had gotten authorization and schematic licenses to print out the M68 from SASOCOM, and had 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko craft about ten dozen of the damn things to distribute to TEAM LION. The M68 was versatile, multi-purposed, and lethal. Both herself and Williams grabbed two each, thumbing the central button on the device to activate a semi-charge of Eezo to lighten its mass and make it more aerodynamic so its 'flight' would deliver the device to where the thrower wanted it. Both Jannie and Ash frisbee'ed the M68's towards the roller droids, each of the four pucks landing in locations where the blast would be near the concentration of the 'bots. Those kinetic shields were great against gunfire.

They didn't do shit for explosives.

The Lion thumbed the activation signal on her OmniTool, and watched the area turn into a cloud of metal shrapnel and flying parts.

"Light 'em up!" The SPECTRE roared as she used the corner of the shuttle as a covering position while sticking her Typhoon out to engage the position, seeing four of the droids still on their triple-waldo legs, tottering a little, three having fallen over on the ground and unable to get back up, and three that would be sent to the scrap heap. Her SAW spun up as she squeezed the trigger, the light machine gun's rate-of-fire spinning up as it chattered from four rounds-per-second to ten rounds-per-second in three seconds, ensuring accuracy at first and then a torrent of death afterwards. The explosives had damaged the Droidekas, and most of them had lost their kinetic shielding as well as some of their armor plating suffering abuse. Jannie easily took down one of the ones still standing as Ash engaged another with her Reverent, having taken a position beneath the N7 by positioning herself in a crotch and engaging the enemy with her in an Israeli Corner technique. Liara was holding up a Biotically-powered barrier for protection with her left hand while using the Captain as a Human shield and trying to engage with her Elkoss Combines' P9 Edge Self-Defense Pistol; not exactly the most impressive of small firearms, but the Asari was more potent as a Biotic than as a tactical combatant. Still, the Protheantologist was hitting the targets easily (they weren't small targets) and succeeded in making chest shots on one of the other standing droids in an attempt to put it down before it engaged them.

Five seconds later, the standing ones were now tottered ones as Ash pulled out a regular Colonial Army Anti-Personnel Grenade (generally called 'pineapples' for their spherical appearance) and bowled it right over to the mess of parts and 'bots. Between the MAKO, two machine guns, and Williams' 'strike!' (and whoop of triumph), the ten Droidekas were put into no-power states.

"NetCall," Shepard told her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armors' VIOS suite, getting her SquadComm to talk to everyone in TEAM LION, "TIC involving Droideka/Roller droids. Scratch ten, no casualties. Expect more." At the least whoever was in charge of security on _Alexandria Station_ had taken the bait with the landing of the MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle and assailants that were now disabling their vessels and destroying their security 'bots. Shepard had no idea how many more of the tech-security forces that station might employ, but chances were they were sent to recon/destroy what had breeched the hanger bay. _Will they send in more droids, better droids, something else, or something organic?_ Jannie led TEAM RED to finish disabling the vessels when a call a few minutes later came.

 _[RED-1, this is BLUE-1]_ , the voice of Detective Garrus Vakarian came over the SquadComm, quiet yet confident. _[Found a lab that sounds similar to what BROWN located. Digging for intelligence and then will physically lock the doors behind us]_ There was a pause. _[There seems to be just about every major and minor species involved, RED. This is… worse]_ Jannie got the point that Garrus was getting at without describing what he meant; it was worse than last time. God, Doc Nugee was probably going to have nightmares over this. Likely, they all would.

"Understood, BLUE. _Canus Majoris_." The N7 felt her heart squeezing in her chest a little, trying _not_ to picture how this was worse than what they were expecting when they had two eyewitnesses to what was happening before. It was obviously that Garrus wasn't trying to describe _how_ worse it was, but she suspected he didn't mean _by a little_ , either.

 _We've got to stop this_ , the redhead knew, her teeth practically grinding at the thought. _This fucking asshole had better show up so I can cut his fucking throat and watch the light die in his eyes._ The thought of what Garrus and Sara had encountered… what had been done to them?

She could have blasted the station into pieces with her SPECTRE authority, but who was to say that the good Doctor was even here?

 _[RED-1, WHITE-1!]_ , Sara's voice came over several minutes later as her team had disabled two-thirds of the stations' vessels, her tone filled with panic, not pain or fear, _[requesting an immediate MEDEVAC Extraction/Emergency!]_

Shepard felt her heart jump up right in her throat.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you _Ninja Tracks_ for coming up with totes awesome albums to write by. Check out "All Six Bullets", "Cut The Cord", and "Passages" for rather epic music to get into the mood for a slobberknocker. I would raid buildings to these songs if AC/DC and Dr. Dre didn't get in the way.

The Trebin Astronaticals' V-23 _Apaltus_ PDV Shuttle makes its appearance again, coming from _Mass Effect vs. Aliens 2: Valkyrie Rising_ , and I brought it back for a non-Human vessel. This is the Turian Hierarchy equivalent of the UT-47 Kodiak.

The AOFI M249 Typhoon SAW shares the same designation and role as the Belgian-manufactured _FN Herstal_ M249 Squad Automatic Weapon that has seen service in the US Army since the Invasion of Panama (Operation: Just Cause, 1989). But I got rid of that stupid face-shield thing. I mean… seriously… between the shields and the armor, what was the point of it except to block your view?

Droidekas - Yep, those asshole droids from the prequel Star Wars Trilogy (Ep. I-III). I mention that they are manufactured by Colicoid Creations, which is mostly true in the Wookiepedia/SWU, as they are created by the Colicoids, an insectile race, and the manufacturing arm being the Colicoid Creations Nest. In the MEU, they are manufactured by the Salarians, who are bot-heavy. And I wanted something else other than the Hahne-Keder LOKI mechs so populous in ME2 and the standard Geth Trooper.


	48. The Red Harvest, III

" _I'd harvest your organs first, but we don't have the time." - Detective Garrus Vakarian,_

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May ?, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Light grew slowly from a central point, fading into view as everything began to expand and sharpen, growing clearer by the moment as Sara Elaine Ryder blinked groggy eyes, finding herself looking upon something metallic and gray, feeling as if she had just woken up from a long, groggy nap. She was laying down, and her body felt oh so heavy. Thinking was slow, and it took her a bit to recognize that she was looking at a ceiling, that she was laying down…_

… _and she was strapped to a table._

Oh God, what's happening!?, _Sara thought as her hands tried to move up but were cuffed to something, holding them on the table and by her side. She tried lifting her head next but that too was confined to the table's cool metal surface, a band of some sort going across her forehead to keep her from moving her head or even to turn it._

" _H-hello?"_ Oh God, oh God, oh God… _Sara felt panic flood her veins, her bowels turn into water as she struggled to get up, feeling all of her limps confined._ NONONO!, _the young Human woman tried to remember what was going on, what was happening, what_ had _happened. It was hard to remember, but she remember going to…_

" _D-Doctor Saelon?" Sara tried out, her voice stuttering a little from fear and nervousness, unable to move her head, She moved her eyes to see around her as best as she could, and all she could see was some sort of room that looked like a laboratory. "H-Hello? C-can anyone hear me?" Fear and sorrow gripped at her heart with an icy, cold claw as she began to cry, so afraid._ Mom… oh God who's going to look out for Mom? _Sara took care of her daily, saw to her needs. There was a visiting home care specialist who came in three times a week while Sara and Scott were at school or when Sara was doing her shift for PresGen as a CitEMS Paramedic, but Sara, being an Emergency Medical Technician, took it upon herself to care for her ill mother._ Mom's going to die! _Sara strained against her binds, cutting into flesh as she struggled and strained to loosen herself without avail, grunting in frustrations._ Oh God, none of them know I'm here! _Dad, Scottie, Mom… Shayla and Alixa, she didn't tell any of them where she was going or what she was doing! She had lied to them to doing something wrong so she could do something right; to save her mother. Sara began to cry as she realized the very painful truth._

 _She had been used._

" _M-Mom… M-Mom I'm so sorry-y…" The young Human woman wept as it hit her, the realization of it all. God, she had practically sold herself to some slaver or worse, had walked right into his clutches like an idiot. The chance of saving Mom… she had been conned, used, and betrayed. And like hundreds of thousands of others throughout the galaxy, she had left no trace or trail of what she had done or where she was going, not wanting to threaten the possibility of saving her mothers' life by risking exposure to the authorities. Just like Danielle, she was forever going to be a missing person._

Is… is that what happened to you, Dani? _, Sara thought, thinking of a young woman three years gone, a woman adopted and brought in by the Ryder family when discovered as a stowaway by none other than Master Chief Petty Officer Stacy Michelle Valentino._ Did you walk into something and you were taken? _Sara remembered the first day she had met a twelve year old girl with no name and no idea how old she was, wracked with nightmares she couldn't remember and a haunted look upon her face she never explained or described. Her mother and father had taken in the obvious orphan, but it had been Sara and Scott that had truly made her a part of the family, made her feel like she belonged. The twins had been almost nine when the girl with no name had been introduced to them, coming up with a name and a birthday for her, calling her 'sister'. For three and a half years, Danielle Jacqueline Ryder had a family, had a home, had a future. The nightmares had faded away, as had the guarded, haunted look upon her face. Sara, Scott, Dani, and Jannie had been thick as thieves when they were kids until the day Jannie left to join the Systems Alliance Military Academy, and even then kept in touch._

 _And then one day, Dani disappeared without a trace. They never did find her._

" _SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Sara screamed, determining not to do that to her family. Mom and Dad would be absolutely devastated. But Scottie? Oh God, Scottie would be so much worse without his twin sister, forever lost without half of his soul._ I'm not going to do that to them _, Sara determined as she tugged at the straps that held her down to the table. "SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE!"_

 _And much to her surprise, the face of a Turian male came into her view._

* * *

 **TEAM WHITE, "South Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder held her custom-made M-37 Falcon Duel-Purpose Objective Weapon tightly in her hands, staring down a corridor she had hoped to never see again, in a location she had hoped never to visit again. _God… here_ , the Navy Corpsman thought as her eyes flittered through both the visor of her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor as well as the Augmented Reality Overlay displayed by the sensors of the armor, showing details that were being gleaned by her VIOS suite as well as SAM's gentle electronic probing. She was doing her best _not_ to remember last time, but the ghosts of the past haunted her hard as she aimed her M-37 Falcon down the hallway, her heartbeat near triple its normal rate as sweat popped on her forehead despite the environmental conditions inside her armor. Fear had a full grip on her.

" _It's okay, kiddo. We're here for you."_ Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins said through the vox of her own SPECTRE Mk. I Armor, the Level Two Council Agent having taken a position on the opposite side of the hall from her, her hands gripping her HMWSG MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. II Shotgun. _"Take it slow and easy. We have your back."_

"T-Thanks." Sara replied, meaning it even if the fear didn't leave her. She took a deep breath as she looked upon the doors that were on either side of the corridor, knowing pretty damn well what she would find if she entered any one of them. Their infiltration had gone off without a hitch as herself, Sam Collins, Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss, and Niki'Raan nar Tombay secured the corridor and the airlock access that they had breached in time with TEAM RED's entrance. So far, no one had come to investigate the presence of TEAM WHITE. She really didn't want to go into the rooms, to view upon the horrors she had seen once before, but _he_ could be in any one of them. Wrex and his team had already checked one of the labs, confirming what she had feared; the Red Harvest had never stopped. She closed her eyes at the thought.

 _I wasn't strong enough to stop it before._

 _But I am now._

"Team? Port-side door." Ryder said through her vox, keeping her voice cool and professional. That little blank spot in her heart that she kept whenever a sapient was injured and needed a professional Paramedic to tell them all was well when they actually weren't was activated as Sara kept her eyes on the door. "Libra, Bootes," those were the callsigns for Lapdance and Niki, "secure corridor while Columbia and I sweep-and-clear." The Marine and the Pilgrim took their positions by the corridor's walls as she and Sam stood to the first door, the both of them taking either side of the closed entrance as Sam switched her shotgun for her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, the Mammothkiller damn near a surgical weapon in the Marshal's hand. Sara flicked her Falcon to her rifle's five-round burst option as she nodded towards the Butcher, indicating for Sam to go first as Collins' helmet nodded, the Marshal elbowing the access panel to open the door and performing a turn-and-breach through the door to begin clearing the room like a professional.

Sara was right on her heels as the Marshal went to the path of least resistance to clear the fatal funnel in front of the door first before turning to one corner to clear that as well as Sara went the opposite direction, using a two-man clearing technique as Sara cleared the near corner while taking a few more steps inside before pivoting to clear the far corner along the wall, and finally scanning across the room to clear the opposite far corner, Sam doing everything she was doing but in the opposite corner so that both women cleared the room quickly and efficiently in a few seconds.

There were people in the room, lying on metal tables with apparatuses attached to them.

" _Oh… oh God…"_ Sam spoke out as her eyes undoubtedly fell upon the closest patient, seeing an Asari strapped to a table, seemingly asleep with several monitors to note her condition. _"Are… are they…?"_

"Yes." Sara gulped, seeing the closest patient to her, a Human man who was equally asleep. There were several neat surgical scars on his body in various time frames of healing, from old to recent. "They have been put into suspended hibernation for complacency and reduction of necessities." The clinical part of her was doing her best to be detached, to avoid feeling the horror she knew she was looking upon. "Tissue samples are taken from them and attached to species-related stem cells in a packet of pseudo-tissue and injected into their bodies near the site of the organs that are being cloned. The replicated tissue is fed and nurtured by the body as it grows, viable within weeks." Sam was looking at her through her helmet's visor, her blue eyes horrified. "Once the organs reach full maturation, they are surgically removed and attached to a mechanical device to replicate a living body to keep it functional and viable.

"And that's what happens to the healthy ones."

" _W-what's the success rate?"_ The Marshal asked softly as Sara looked to the datapad placed upon the medical tables' inductive charger, noting the patients' current status, readings, and history of the Human man that laid before her.

"For this man… forty percent." Four out of ten organs placed within his body had grown successfully and had been removed expertly. Four… out of ten. Sara looked at the six that hadn't grown properly, feeling her heart shutter at the sight of the listings. The man had a kidney grown right next to his original one, but had turn cancerous and both malformed organ and original were masses of carcinogenic tissue, no longer functioning. He had a malformed gall bladder above his stomach, a colon that was stunted, two malfunctioning pancreases, an a malignant bladder. _God… this man will_ die _if I tried to remove him_ , Sara looked at the patient in question, seeing him asleep. He was older than she was, approximately thirty years of age or so, his face serene and unaware that his body was littered with failed organs and cancer. Without running tests, Ryder assumed that he would likely be dead within a year, his body probably disposed and flushed out of an airlock. _Does he have a family that looks for him, that misses him?_ Sara put the datapad back on the table and found herself smoothing the man's hair back as she looked at his face. _Did he come here to save someone or himself, with hope for a future only for it to be so cruelly torn away?_

" _Saelon isn't here, kiddo."_ Collins said softly, placing a gentle hand on Sara's shoulder after moving over to do so. _"The best thing we can do for them now is to end the threat and bring in the cavalry."_

"Yeah, you're right." Ryder replied as she turned away from the patients, remembering when it was _she_ on one of these tables. "Let's clear these rooms quickly and… when we get him, then we can help these people." TEAM WHITE continued on, Sara hearing the update from TEAM BROWN, knowing that Wrex and his team had discovered the same thing that she had but on the opposite end of the station 'north' of their position, another lab that sounded like it was filled with patients much like she had found with Sam. In her heart, Sara knew this wouldn't be the only lab they would find with patients in it.

They weren't looking for patients. They were looking for the monster responsible for them.

The next two rooms that Sara and Sam check were sadly the same sights; a laboratory filled with a dozen or so people of a wide variety of species, mostly the major and minor Citadel races, but there was a member or two of the auxiliary races as well; here a Raloi, there a Thark, and one looked to be a Zen-Whoberis. Each sapient was strapped to a table, induced into a chemical coma, and used to grow organs. The sight was sickening as Sara kept a mental count of how many people she saw and what kind of races. Asari, Turian, Salarian, Human, Batarian, Elcor, Hanar, Quarian… it seemed that Saelon was quite diversified.

The last room was different. It was small and it had only one patient.

Sara entered the laboratory in a room-clearing technique with Sam a step behind her M-37 Falcon up and ready to fire at any hostiles as she found herself in a 'short room'; it was barely four by four meters large. In it was a singular table that wasn't horizontal, parallel to the ground. Instead, it was set up diagonally, the patient facing the door in a half-laying, half-resting position. The patient was a Salarian male based off of the shape of his audio horns, while monitors were attached to the patient to monitor his progress, and straps holding him in place. The difference between the Salarian and the others was that this one was _awake_.

"Sister." The male croaked as his dark eyes focused on her, Sara standing in her room-clearing position, finding the Salarian alone and restrained as he looked at her. It took Ryder a moment to realize what he had called her and why; she was obviously wearing HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Armor. He had seen the armor, and called her out for what she was or what he assumed her to be.

The Salarian male was a Council Agent.

"Sam!" Sara moved forward to the table, letting the Marshal know that she was about to jump off-script. "I need you and Niki to look over everything that's keeping him here and alive. We're going to evacuate him and anything he needs to keep him breathing immediately." The Marshal nodded as she left the laboratory momentarily to get the Quarian Rifleman. "It's okay, we're going to get you out and stop this, brother. We're going to find that son of a bitch and we're going to set him on fire for what he's done." A set of nicitating membranes blinked as the dark eyes regarded her for a moment as Collins and Raan re-entered the room.

"You're… Human?" The male asked, curious and perplexed. "I apologize. I though you were both Asari." Well, that was actually understandable. Human females and Asari shared a great deal of similar physical traits, and the SPECTRE Armor was generally about the same shape save for the back of their helmets where Humans lacked the crest-tails of Asari _likku_. To help calm him down, Sara queued up the option and disengaged her helmet, the piece of equipment reverse-telescoping and folding back on itself to retreat back into her neck-gorget at the base of the back of her neck, revealing her Human face to the Salarian male. "I… know you. Recognize you." His voice was weak, unsure, but his eyes studied Ryder's' features. "I didn't know there were Human SPECTREs."

That had Sara look to Sam, Collins' helmeted head looking back at her for a moment while she was looking at the medical equipment along with the Quarian Pilgrim. Collins was a Clandestine-level Council Agent, and not exactly advertised. Even other SPECTREs weren't generally told the identity of Level-Two Council Agents as sometimes they were tasked with following Level-Three Agents for info-nets and sometimes even internal affair ops. That this Salarian didn't know of Sam wasn't unusual. But he didn't seem to know that Sara was a SPECTRE's Second, which was at least all over Human media and should have been fairly known throughout the Office of Special Tactics. But not knowing of the Lion of Elysium being selected as Humanity's First SPECTRE? That was plastered all over the Cit, seen both in positive and negative lights. The male wasn't even aware of Auntie being a Level-Three Agent.

"Oh… oh shit." Sara realized why. When Garrus and she had escaped _Alexandria Station_ before, Detective Vakarian had put the location and the sentient responsible for it for the Office of Special Tactics to deal with… four years ago. They had both wondered why it hadn't been dealt with yet when Garrus had finally pinpointed the location of the station… still in the same damn system, though it had been moved further away from Hershel. Black sites were notoriously hard to find, and moving it a few AU was effective in keeping a black site hidden. It had infuriated Sara before that it hadn't been shut down when they had practically handed to location on a silver platter to the Office of Special Tactics, still active after four years, that no SPECTRE had dealt with it.

No, she was looking at the Council Agent who _had_.

"Brother… it's Council Year 2749." Sara said, sliding her hand into the Salarian's to hold as she stood by his side, by the table that restrained him. She couldn't risk moving him without knowing what he was connected to and what he needed to keep him alive. "I'm Sara Ryder, the Angel of Illyeria and SPECTRE's Second to Agent Jane Shepard, the Lion of Elysium and Humanity's First SPECTRE. Myself and Detective Garrus Vakarian were the ones that escaped this facility and sent the request to the Office of Special Tactics f-four years ago." _Oh God… had he been here this whole time?_ "Were you the one that responded?" A fat lazy tear came out of her eye as Sara looked into those dark eyes, seeing the Salarian just looking at her, shocked and reeling. Sara placed a gentle hand on his forehead, trying her best to comfort him.

"Y-yes."

 _Oh God… four years, four years in the hands of a monster._

"I'm getting you out _right-the-fuck-now_." Ryder said, her tone as hard as diamonds, that old rage and pain building up inside of her. "I'm a former CitEMS Paramedic and a Systems Alliance Navy Corpsman. We're going to assess what we need to evacuate you, and I'm pulling you off of this shithole and onto our vessel for medical intervention. While I do that, the Lion of Elysium and her team are going to hunt that fucking cocksucker down and make sure his sub-atomic particles don't make it." Sara gulped at the thought of not being there to help, not to see the corpse of Doctor Ingree Saelon, but this…

…no, this Salarian was more important. The patients more important.

" _It's a hard role, that of a Barber-Surgeon,_ " Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis once told Emergency Medical Technician Sara Ryder, a fifteen-year old Human woman learning under the tutelage of a Turian female who was a former Blackwatch Frontline Barber-Surgeon and Relay 314 Veteran. _"You might want to fight, you might want to run, you might want to get involved with whatever disaster is happening right then and there. But you are a healer, little Sara; it is your duty to save lives, to be there when sentients and citizens need you in their most desperate times. Let the likes of C-SEC and the military take care of the threats and the sire-_ vracking _sons of goats who sully our spaces with their greed and their lies. We fight the ultimate enemy._

" _We fight Death itself without fear."_

"Sam? Niki?" Sara looked up from the Salarian to her teammates.

" _I… I think he's going to need everything."_ Niki'Raan said, looking at the pieces of medical equipment attached to the Council Agent. _"I certainly don't want to chance unplugging something that doesn't seem apparent but is vital. I have enough Universal Power Cells to connect everything as a portable power source and we can certainly MetalGel everything to the table and roll it down the corridor and to the extraction point. It's sloppy, but it can be done in a few breaths."_

"Okay, start getting it done, _Sha'me_. Sam? You and Lapdance need to protect our backs while I move our brother out of here." The both of their helmeted head nodded as one as they both went to work, Niki pulling out spare UPC's while Sam queued up her HMOT MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I OmniTool to selected the Crafting App to use her reserves of MetalGel to adhere the equipment to the (thankfully) mobile table. Had the Salarian been tortured? Sara saw the datapad that was congruent with the table, and picked it up, reading the contents after activating it. She saw the name, and realize she _knew_ this Council Agent! He was a celebrated SPECTRE!

Sur'kesh M'kael Bea'ttie Wi'lam Salyer Mordin Solus.

Sara's eyes flittered through the notes, and saw the dictation of what appeared to be torture, both physical and medical. Like the other patients, Solus had been used as a biological incubator for cloned organ growth. Unlike the others, _none_ of his had been viable on purpose. That bastard had put faulty genetic material into the Council Agent to make him suffer. _Oh God, you poor, poor man,_ Sara thought as she sniffled, placing the datapad back onto the table to take with them; she would need it. More than a dozen shitty organs were in his body, wrecking havoc inside of him, and many of his natural organs were suffering for it. Niki was completely correct; Solus would die without the machines. He might likely die regardless.

"Niki? I'm going to need that machine right there." Sara pointed at a scientifically-oriented station that didn't have wheels. She knew what this small lab was for now; she had once been a visitor. "Craft wheels for it and we're taking it with us. It doesn't need to be hooked up or anything, but Mordin Solus here is going to need it so he can live as long a life as possible."

" _It's… a cloning machine, isn't it?"_ The Quarian asked, her voice soft and slow, knowing exactly what Sara was asking; to break Council Law, to commit a Level Three Infraction. Ryder didn't actually have the authority.

"He has over a dozen faulty organs in him, several tumors and malignant growths, and his natural organs are being destroyed." The SPECTRE's Second replied, looking at Raan's blue-tinted visor. "That monster tortured him by putting shitty genetic material in him and kept him alive for four years to make him suffer. I _will not_ let the Void have this one, and I _will not_ let Saelon win. This one is mine, and I say he lives. And I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen." That feeling that a sixteen-year old Sara Ryder once felt at the thought of saving her mother came back to her, the thought of defying the odds no matter what. Niki'Raan and Sam Collins' helmeted heads just turned to look at each other for the briefest of moments before they both nodded to each other and went to work, the decision made. _Mom, I'm going to make the right choice, and I know you would approve,_ the Angel thought to herself, her eyes wet with tears.

 _Death's going home empty-handed and disappointed today, cursing my very existence. He WILL NOT have this one._

"His name… isn't Saelon." Mordin Solus said, Sara's attention returning to the brother strapped on the table. "May the Wheel forgive me for my failure, but you must know. You _must_ ensure he isn't to survive."

"That's what we're here to do." Sara replied, watching the Salarian's vital signs spiking. The stress and abuse had him fragile, and his abused body was spiraling out of control. He was slipping away, holding on by sheer willpower and whatever he needed to express.

"No, listen!" the Level-Three Council Agent said, almost pleading. "He isn't _Saelon_.

"His name… _is Harte_."

* * *

 _[RED-1, WHITE-1! Requesting a MEDEVAC Emergency!]_

Shepard felt her heart jump up right in her throat. The order had been to leave any patients they found alive but behind; like the ACV _Horizon_ , they didn't have the means or the capability to deal with a number of casualties, especially of the surgical kind. Sara knew this, so thus likely the call was for one of her team members…

…or perhaps she found something that went above-and-beyond the normal patient. She hadn't called in a Troops-In-Contact identifier, so likely she had found something.

"Send it, WHITE-1." Jannie braced herself for the unexpected.

 _[RED-1, located lab with single patient. Male, Salarian, approximately thirty years of age]_ , Sara's voice indicated that she was likely working; slightly excited, but focused and distracted at the same time. _[Identity confirmed by WHITE-Columbia and myself,]_ WHITE-Columbia was Marshal Samantha Collins, _[and… oh God, he's been here for_ years _…]_

 _[…it's a Level-Three SPECTRE, RED-1. It's the one that answered our call]_

That had a _very_ cold comet of ice grow in Jannie's guts as she realized what Sara meant by that.

 _Garrus had put this place and Saelon on the SPECTRE Hit List,_ the N7 thought, knowing that the Special Crimes Unit Detective had turned over the perpetrator for a SPECTRE to capture/kill… four years ago. Jannie, Garrus, and Sara had wondered why it hadn't been stopped, and Sam had looked up the possibility, but found no details nor the request. It had been because the request had been taken up by a SPECTRE.

But the mission hadn't been completed; the SPECTRE was still in the station.

 _That Agent is going through what Sara went through_ , Shepard realized as hot, hot anger seeped into her veins and vision, trying to imagine what four years in the grips of that fucking _monster_ would be like. Sara had only suffered days, and it had hurt her badly. Years? Garrus had sent a request to stop the Red Harvest… and they had in fact sent someone.

"Who is it, WHITE-1?"

There was a pause.

 _[It's the_ Doomslayer _]_

" _No fucking way…"_ Ash breathed out, her helmet's vox not able to disguise the surprise in her voice. Jannie was just as shocked as she saw Doctor Liara T'soni look at her with wide eyes of amazement and shock. The Office of Special Tactics hadn't just sent _some_ SPECTRE.

They had sent one of the best; they had sent the Doomslayer himself.

Everyone in the galaxy knew the story from what occurred about a decade prior. Jannie had been in the Systems Alliance Military Academy when the whole fiasco became known, and the redhead remembered how amazed she had been at the thought an acts of a singular individual who had saved both _the Chamber of Governance_ and _the Council of Law_ single-handedly from a biological device delivered by a group of Batarian extremists. The fact that he saved them (and how he had done it) alone put his name amongst the stars as quite possibly one of the toughest beings in the galaxy. But his retaliatory strike against the _Fist of the Pillars_ terrorist organization had been of a level of brutality that frightened the shit of just about anyone with working braincells, having somehow captured a _living Thresher Maw_ and dropping what was considered the most dangerous living organism in the galaxy right onto their main compound. The various news organizations throughout the galaxy hadn't been subtle about the details or aftermath of that particular strike as people realized in awe (and horror) one of the most diabolical sapients in the galaxy, edified as a hero of Citadel Space.

The galaxy knew him as _the Doomslayer_.

His real name was Sur'kesh M'kael Bea'ttie Wi'lam Salyer Mordin Solus.

"Approved." The Level-Three Council Agent replied, knowing that Sara was right; they _had_ to extract Mordin Solus and give him whatever medical intervention they could provide. This wasn't some normal sapient or even some elected official, influential being, or socialite. Mordin Solus was literally considered one of the smartest, deadliest, most celebrated sapients breathing, and leaving him in place would no doubt bring sanctions and ramifications to the Systems Alliance and to her own mission of stopping Saren and the Geth. Rescuing him would endear her to a damn good many people, not to mention to a vast majority of the Salarian people who saw Solus in the same like that Humanity saw her in; an absolute hero and paragon of their species. Not to mention the weight that Mordin Solus's opinion carried. Helping him could get others to help the _Normandy's_ mission as well as the Systems Alliance. " _Nautilus-11_ ," Shepard used the codeword for the SSV _Normandy_ , "this is RED-1, prep for Urgent Surgical MEDEVAC from WHITE-1's position. Level Three Salarian male Council Agent in need of immediate medical and surgical intervention." Jannie winced at the thought that the call would mean that Sara would also have to leave _Alexandria Station_ as well; Commander Karin Chakwas only had the most basic of knowledge on Salarian physiology, and the surgeon generally bowed to Sara's much more in-depth knowledge and experience on Sur'keshians. If Solus needed surgery, it would likely be at the hands of an Academy-educated, CitEMS-trained Navy Corpsman with a surgeon as an assistant. "Whatever he needs, he gets." God, Jannie was _not_ looking forward to that particular call to the Council, though they would no doubt be thrilled that Solus was located and in good hands. She didn't even know he had been missing.

 _[This is_ Nautilus-11 _, understood._ Valkyrie _reports ETA to site in three mikes]_ , came the voice of Commander Mark Vanderloo, calm but ready.

"WHITE-Columbia," the N7 directed her orders to Sam, "defend and extract patient to _Valkyrie_ , and then _Canus Majoris_. And be fucking careful."

 _[Understood, RED-1]_ Marshal Collins replied, knowing that TEAM WHITE would be down to three people. It was the right call to make, but that still meant that someone was going to have to do without. Jannie saw a private request call come up from Sam pop up on her ARO HUD, and she accepted it. _{Red? This is Columbia.}_

"Go ahead."

 _{I've never seen shit like this, and I've stomped on slavers and chopshop Docs before.}_ Collins said quietly, despite the private chat mode. _{I honestly don't know if Solus's going to make it. He's an absolute fucking mess in ways that make me want to regurgitate, and Sara's pulling_ cloning _equipment out of medical necessity. Most of his original organs are down, he's being kept alive through machines, and his body…,}_ the Marshal stopped her words, and Jannie was pretty sure she heard Sam gag a little, _{God, this is sickening. He's got multiple tumors and growths inside of him…, that asshole tortured him by putting shit organs in him to grow and half of them are malignant}_

"Sam, hold onto it." Jannie said softly, knowing the Marshal had been hit hard over the past month and a half with the loss of her husband and her last friend from before. Likely in some ways she had likely never truly recovered from the horrors and losses of Torfan, gaging on some of the things she said about her prior team. Jannie knew that pain well, having lost members of her own N-Team in the past. "Both Sara and Karin are damn good at what they do, and likely we're going to keep him alive and in comfort while calling up for an expert team. Focus on the monster who did this to him, and make sure that asshole get sent out the airlock headfirst."

 _{Yeah, no issues there.}_ Sam replied softly. _{Fuck, how did they survive this?}_ Jannie knew what Collins was asking.

 _[RED-1, BLUE-1, this is WHITE-1,]_ Sara's voice came back, sounding pretty stressed and as if she were pushing something. Her words were going out on everyone's SquadComm. _[Be advised, Doomslayer just told me the real identity of Doctor Saelon. He's passed out, so I can't get any confirmation or evidence, but if he's right…]_ there was a pause, the transmission still going on. This was the Sara that Jannie knew well; the determination, the effort, the will, the one who would tell death to _fuck off_. _[Whatever seriousness we had about hunting Saelon?_ _ **Triple it**_ _. He_ must not _leave this station alive, and we need to thoroughly scrub this locations from crows' nest to Orlop Deck to make sure. We need to scan everyone genetically, and everything genetically. He's a cloner, and it's a very real possibility that he does in fact exist in multiple locations at once]_

" _Fuck. That's entertaining."_ Ash grumped, obviously getting the point Sara was trying to make; Saelon might have cloned himself, perhaps even more than once, to escape prosecution.

 _[It's Tuvoc Harte. Dear God, he's still alive and he's here on this station]_

" _Oh Goddess…"_ Liara murmured through her vox, her voice _very_ frightened. _"T-that cannot be possible!"_ Jannie frowned as she looked over to Ash, who merely looked at her through her helmeted visor and shrugged her armored shoulders. Neither one of them recognized the name.

 _[WHITE-1, this is BLUE-1, is there any evidence or suggestion that he could be incorrect?]_ Came the voice of Detective Garrus Vakarian, his flanged voice filled with steely determination, even over the communication. Whoever this 'Harte' was, even Vakarian recognized the name.

 _[This_ s'kak _is right up his alley]_ , Sara replied, still sounding as if she were pushing something, obviously physically escorting whatever apparatus a Level Three Council Agent was connected on. Chances were, Ryder hadn't disconnected anything to increase the chances of survival. _[It involves cloning, a black site, and a great deal of blackspace networking. That's practically right at the very door step. We don't even know if these patients are the_ original _patients! For all we know… God, they could have been cloned and the normal people living their lives and these are biological replicants that have been turned into incubators so no one would ever have to look for a missing person]_

" _Um, what are we talking about here?"_ Williams asked, still holding her position, but sounding confused. _"And who's this Harte guy?"_

" _He is a monster of the worst kind."_ Doctor T'soni replied, her helmeted head looking to the colonial Soldier, her tone… of frightened awe. _"Over two centuries ago, he was an Attican Warlord who created a clone army of Turians and Krogan to commit atrocities upon planets for conquest and dominance, to rule over the Traverse. He cloned fighters for himself while having business magnets, warlords, and dark lords of the Attican and Terminus come to him to the possibility of organic immortality. They were dark times in which the Council called upon the full wrath of the Hierarchy Navy, the Republican Navy, the Office of Special Tactics, as well as others."_ The Asari was strangely… nostalgic about that description. _"The Matriarch… no, my_ mother _was a veteran of that horrific time, bringing Biotics and blade to the enemy in the defense of the galaxy. It was known as the Clone War in which Turians, Asari, Krogan, Salarians, and Batarians combined their fleets to destroy a Warlord and his armies of several million, cratering planets and glassing cloning sites, even going so far as to sterilize three worlds in which massive reproduction centers were locate to grow and harvest his troops. Harte was known to have been killed no less than six times, but there were always some… replicant of him to continue on until the mass of Citadel Forces struck at every site at once to decimate every possible avenue of escape or additional site he might cure another body from. I… listened to those stories with relish when I was but a Youngling."_ Jannie thought of the stories she heard of her own father, taught to her by her Poppa Bear. She had eaten those up as well, learning of the hero that Lieutenant Commander John Michal Shepard was. Once, Matriarch Benezia T'soni was a warrior. She filed that one away for later. _"I believe Wrex might actually be a veteran of that conflict. He would have been alive for it, and I believe he has suggested one or two things that made me think of the Clone War, sounding similar to what the Matriarch said to me."_

 _[RED-1, this is BROWN-1],_ Wrex's voice came over the SquadComm, silent but with the weight of lethality behind it. _[This has all the trappings. Even suggesting this is Tuvoc Harte is good enough for most anyone to decimate everything in sight with little backtalk. Hunt the_ kruuv _down, blast him to pieces, and do a gene-match test afterwards. Thought this_ clochea _dead and done with]_ There was a bit of a sinister glee in the Krogans' voice, and Shepard didn't doubt that Wrex was looking forward to adding a notch to his gun or whatever Krogan did when they found something worthy to kill. _[I know what to look for, and what to smell for. Permission to hunt down this_ vnark _sucker and eradicate him yesterday]_

"Granted." That many Academy Alumni and their oldest warrior telling her the same thing had the redhead's mind made. She already wanted to see Saelon dead for his crimes against Sara (and yes, Garrus, too). And from what her teams were finding in the lab, that was just more justification to see this fuckers' skull split open with a shotgun round. But if this guy was even a quarter of the threat that Liara was suggesting, Jannie could very well be doing the entire _galaxy_ a huge favor.

 _[RED-1, this is Valkyrie]_ , came the voice of Chief Warrant Officer-2 Patricia Holloway from the UT-47 Kodiak _"Rey Kenobi"_ , _[ETA to South Spire Access Door is 3-0 seconds. Will we need a deployment umbilical?]_

"Affirmative." No doubt that Solus was probably wearing a smock or God knew what else, and probably unable to wear any kind of pressure suit. A deployment umbilical was a simple means for boarding from one pressurized location to another without walking in space or doing an EVA… or when someone didn't have a suit and the means of getting one or wear one wasn't possible. Shepard was really liking the though of a loss of numbers, but in this Sara was correct. VIP's always got special treatment because no one wanted a political backlash at the thought of someone _important_ dying while common men and women suffered, sadly. It was, after all, why Ryder ended up being known as the Angel of Illyeria. "Ash, how long has it been since those droidekas came knocking?"

" _Just over ten minutes, Skipper."_ The Colonial Soldier replied, knowing that an NCO's job was to keep their attention and focus on the immediate surroundings and team while a Commissioned Officer ran things on a larger scope, keeping an eye on such details. _"No reinforcements. Not a good sign."_

"No." Jannie agreed. Whoever ran this station knew there was at least one actionable force in their midst, and had sent a small unit to investigate and disperse. They had to know that the droids were destroyed, the security system no doubt logging in the loss. So why hadn't they sent in more, yet? Any organic force had plenty of time to armor up and come in. Ten minutes was a _long_ time for a security team to action in on breaching invaders. "Team? Prepare to assault forward into the station proper. With the shuttles down, no one's escaping through this route, but we need to buy the other teams the time and the distraction they need to close the noose on this fucker.

"Bra? Knock on the hanger door, low impact shot."

And the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle's main cannon fired, blasting the doors open permanently.

* * *

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May 14, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Detective Garrus Vakarian undid the straps and restraints that held Sara Elaine Ryder down to the table, the Special Crimes Detective and Sniper of the Rapid Response Unit unbinding the young female Human hatchling from her confinement as the female Human hatchling looked at him, surprise and shock in her face as he undid her straps._

" _D-Detective Vakarian?" The little Human asked, her voice just as shocked as he soft plates of her face indicated, her single-toned voice lacking that harmonizing tone that indicated_ real _emotions, though her flat voice was well enough to indicate that she was shocked to see him. "W-what are you doing here?"_

" _Returning the favor, little one." A month prior, Garrus had been on a Special Crimes investigation involving a black market network of illegally-cloned organs that had a Volus fencing both the organs in question and the money, laundering the services through a series of off-Cit accounts and shell businesses to muddy any possible investigation. For a regular investigator, that might have worked. For an Academy Alumni who specialized in white-collar, green-collar, and black-collar crime? It didn't even phase him as he encountered the Volus in question, one Pitne For. Vakarian had gone to one of the front businesses that the Volus had been currently inhabiting with the intent to arrest the little gasbag and show the little Irunian just how persuasive he could be in an interrogation. Unfortunately, the Pitne-Clan Volus hadn't been stupid or cheap when it had come to personal security, and had hired members of the Blood Pack Mercenary Company, five very fine specimens to remind everyone why_ vracking _with a Krogan was generally not recommended, and having five even more challenging. Yet he was Garrus_ vracking _Vakarian, and he wasn't going to let the sight of five heavily-armed illegal Krogan going to stop him when he went to pick up the little gasbag for his crimes._

 _A firefight had ensued that had five dead Krogan, but Garrus resembling a range target, too; he had been shot up pretty damn good. Vakarian had signaled for back-up a minute or two prior, but none had showed up yet. Now he was signaling for medical intervention as he coughed out blood and watched as he bled from half-a-dozen gunshot wounds, one looking to be in an artery. He was bleeding to death._

 _And of all the things that could have come in his moment of need, it had been an off-the-clock Human Paramedic too young to be carrying a Barber-Surgeons' duty, having heard the gunfire and_ ran _towards the incident instead of away._

 _That was when he met Humanity's Firstborn on the Citadel, Sara Elaine Ryder._

 _There he was, bleeding his life away when this too-young female Human hatchling in a CitEMS uniform and what looked to be a Barber-Surgeons' field kit (he later learned it to be a Systems Alliance Navy Corpsman Aid Bag) came to his aid without call or question, taking a knee by his soon-to-be corpse, opening up her kit and started getting to work. She pinched his cut artery with a pair of Human-oriented hemostats, plugged his wounds with fluid-expanding cloth she called Curlex, and even administered plasma volumizing fluids to keep his blood pressure and heart rate up before a Skybulance showed up seven minutes later, flying in as if the Spirit-Eater Himself was after it. Two Asari, two Turians, and a Salarian came to as he breathed through a respirator and had his vitals monitored while little Sara Ryder saved his life, the other CitEMS Barber-Surgeons aiding the Human, but never getting in her way. Garrus ended up with his backplate secured to a contragravity spineboard and set in that Skybulance and rushed to PresGen in a hellacious ride that he'd have a hard time wondering if he had ever had faster or nastier, even in the depths of the First Contact War. Sara was by his side the entire ride, carrying his spineboard into the Presidium General Hospital, getting him admitted into a Sapient Emergency Care Ward for emergency extraction of rounds and surgery. Seven hours later, he was waking up in a Recovery Ward to find a young female Human hatchling asleep in a nearby chair, waking up when he moved about in his recovery nest, putting him at ease as she told him everything that had happened to him._

 _All details aside, the little Human Barber-Surgeon had saved his life, a veteran of the Relay 314 Incident and a Turian._

 _Garrus had done his best to return the favor to a member of a species he had no real care or concern for; by politely following her activities and movements like a silent guardian. It certainly didn't help that the 'girl' (as she called herself) had checked up on him during his recovery at home; bringing him food, making sure he was taking his medications, and certainly making sure he wasn't pushing himself too hard or too much until his wounds and plates healed properly. That had gone on for a Cit-week, and Garrus had been… touched by it. Sure, the little hatchling nagged just as good as his mother did, but she spent at least an hour every day making sure that he was recuperating well, and Garrus had found himself looking forward to her visits. So he had returned the favor by watching out for her, learning that she was an Academy student herself (the first Human ever, in fact), a Skybulance 'Emergency Medical Technician' (the Human equivalent of a Barber-Surgeon), the twin sister of the new Captain of the Presidium Toshi Scott 'the Viper' Ryder, and the daughter to the Human Pathfinder (whom Garrus knew all too well) and an ill mother. He owed her a debt he doubted he would ever be able to repay, so he watched over her. Like a silent guardian._

 _In the previous week, her movements had gotten… erratic._

 _Garrus helped Sara off the of the medical table, pulling intravenous lines from her arms as the little Human female got up on shaky limbs, her soft-plated skin paler than normal as she immediately began to vomit up some brackish fluids from her gizzard (no, Humans called them stomachs), trying to get herself up but being as weak as a three-day old Hatchling. The Special Crimes Detective aided her as she stood on legs that quaked and shook, the Human moaning as she clutched at her abdomen, walking in a lurching motion as she stood in a hunched fashion. She did not look well at all, but Garrus knew very little but the basics of Sapient Aid for Turians, and less than that for Thessians and Sur'keshians. For Terrans he knew nothing; not their normal breathing rates, their heart rate (and they only had the one!), their blood pressure… he wasn't even sure what organs they were suppose to have or how many! Sara was sick, and he didn't know how to fix it._

" _Come on, little one." Garrus said, hoisting the oh-so frail female Hatchling, her weight barely a burden as she wrapped her arms around his cowl, whimpering as her soft plates leaked fluids… sweat, it was called. "I'll carry you to the vessel."_

" _The… the others." Ryder gasped, passing by other tables with other restrained sapients, all asleep chemically._

" _I only have room for one." The Detective replied as he carried her to the the laboratory door, ready to exfill out of this horrifying place that the Spirits dared not go. "We reach the Cit, and we'll call for anything and everything to rescue these people and kill the one responsible. But I don't have the facilities, the care, the knowledge, the equipment, or the capacity to get anyone else out." He looked to her strange round eyes rimmed with blue, seeing the caring singular heart in those strangely spherical eyes. "You saved my life, and I shall save yours in return. Together, we can save these others with my authority and your knowledge. But I cannot care for even you, and you will not be able to care for others if you need to care for yourself. Understand?"_

" _I-It's triage. I understand." The female replied, her flat voice holding grief and sickness back, but he saw that she did understand. "Garrus?_

" _Thank you."_

 _And she surprised him with a soft pressing of her soft horizontal mandibles to his cheek plate; it was called a kiss._

* * *

 **TEAM BLUE, "Back Door", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 **Present Day…**

Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian stalked through the halls of _Alexandria Station_ with his Rapid Response-issued ERCS M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle in his talons, the buttstock firm against the cowl of his right shoulder, slightly magnetized to his Rapid Response-issued Armax Arsenal Predator Heavy Armor to keep the recoil down as well as being able to fire it one-pawed if necessary with as little degradation of performance as possible. Behind him was Corporal Jeanette _'Adios'_ Vasquez toting her Devlon Industries' M-56 Medium Machine Gun with its duel drum-like heat sinks that could either fire in conjunction for maximum time, separately for sustainment fire, or in an overclocked mode for increased rate of fire and impact with a hit to the length the weapon could fire. He had seen the M-56 Marshal at work on Feros and admitted that it was a devastating weapon that could quickly put a Krogan to the ground and probably make an enraged Elcor pause. It's weight and bulk were supplemented by a carrying and stabilizing rig that worked in conjunction with the weapon, keeping its recoil to a minimum while helping the gunner keep rounds on target at a maximum effort. Vasquez really was an artist with the weapon, pivoting and using her body in a way that worked well with the weapon, driving rounds into targets without missing or spraying uselessly when a target was already down. She was a smart inclusion to TEAM LION, and Garrus would be hard-pressed to think of a clear support gunner who could triumph over the female Marine in comparison with some of the heavy assault members of the Blackwatch. In his mind, that was certainly saying something. On the opposite side of the three-meter wide corridor was 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko carrying his Hahne-Keder Diamondback Assault Rifle with Seaman Monica Valerie Negulesco a meter behind him with her Winchester Arms' M-96 Mattock Auto Assault Rifle, the Hospital Corpsman keeping her spacing well enough while pulling rear security for TEAM BLUE.

This was the third corridor they had checked, along with ten lab-like rooms filled with comatose patients. The sight was now being viewed by numbed, mildly horrified nerves.

There was a sound ahead and around a corridor that TEAM BLUE hadn't reached yet, and Garrus held up his left paw in a Turian hand-signal for halt, two talons raised and pressed together while his thumb talon was tucked into the pad of his paw. Everyone halted, knowing what it meant despite it being different than the Human variant (which Garrus knew was simply a raised fist), Doc Nugee facing the rear while himself, _'Adios'_ , and Kaidan faced forward. Garrus pointed to the side of his fringe to indicate that he had heard something, and then pointed in the direction that he had heard the noise. It had sounded like metal-on-metal, and he knew from a previous transmission that TEAM RED had encountered droideka roller mechs, the Salarian-created security VI-driven robots a rather pain in the plates. They were more expensive than most security bots, and the quality showed. One was generally better armored and protected than a standard Hierarchy Soldier, armed with either two light machine guns or assault rifles connected to the arm analogs, and could roll about as fast as a Turian could run. Vakarian looked to Alenko, getting the Human Lieutenant's attention and mimed something rolling on the ground, and the Combat Engineer nodded back, getting the idea as he switched out his Diamondback Assault Rifle for his Milkor SuperSix M-32 Multi-Purpose Munition Launcher, having its six grenades already loaded with shrapnel-firing 'claymore' rounds as no one wanted a explosives-firing weapon on a space station. The round was great for anti-personnel work, fired in a wide spray, and would likely pass right through a droidekas' kinetic barrier and tear at anything not armored or plated. Electronic guards always had that weakness that a simple cut wire or hose could completely disable a limb or a system, even more-so than a sapient.

Garrus queued up his Cipritine Armories' Nordash OmniTool and brought up his program to queue up a datachip with the software for his Spotter Drone as his OmniTool began to craft an AeroGel shell around the chip, OmniGel being spooled inside the creation as a small contragravity plate was adhered to the bottom of the shell for movement purposes along metallic surfaces while an OmniGel lens was crafted, he chip able to control the lens distance and focus while signaling back what it 'saw' to the Augmented Reality Display of his Kuwashii Visor. The Spotter Drone, once created, floated forward as am expendable Reconnaissance Drone as it hovered forward ten meters to the turn in the corridor to spot what was in the next bend.

The AeroGel-created drone was shot to pieces in a few seconds.

Well, that about confirmed what he had assumed.

Garrus quickly selected another App on his OmniTool, looking at his Tech Mine options as he found one that would work quite well on bots, mechs, and droids; the Overload program. Another datachip was loaded into his OmniTool from his spare supply, the program loading onto it as he plucked a spare Universal Power Cell and stuck the chip onto the UPC as the program finished loading. His right mandible quirked into a smirk inside his helmet as he tossed the Tech Mine forward to bounce around the corner, the program about to detonate a electromagnetic handshake between whatever electronic component happened to be within a few meters of it and its one hundred kiloWatt power supply.

The Tech Mine went off with a thunderous clap as peels of arcing electricity flashed around the corner for but a second.

"Go!"

Garrus led the short rush forward with Kaidan keeping to the interior side of the upcoming turn, stopping just short of the port-side corner as Garrus bolted to the opposite wall to take the far-side wall while Vasquez took the middle of the corridor, putting herself in the most amount of danger while being able to engage fully with her M-56 Marshal at the same time. Garrus scanned with his Vindicator and saw four droidekas, having fallen over onto the deck of the station, obviously overloaded and their personal electronics fried. Garrus found his expended UPC and cooked datachip and pocketed in a spare hardcase on his Predator Armor, as was usually his habit. Snipers left as little evidence as possible, after all.

" _Man,_ gracias _for not having to smell cooked droid."_ The _Latina_ Human said, moving forward while aiming her Marshal at the nearest droideka, giving it an experimental kick to see if it were truly decommissioned. It didn't work that way like it did organics, but Garrus did that from time-to-time too, so didn't stop Jean. _"What's that thing do to a man in armor?"_

"There's a Human term for it. Barbecue?" That had the Marine Gunner chuckling through the vox of her Aegohr Munitions' Kestrel Heavy Armor. "It might not work against yours; both myself and Sara went through everyone's armor to protect against hacking, sabotage, interference, and dampening. Bu that doesn't mean someone hasn't figured out a trick we haven't seen or encountered yet. But our armor is protected thanks to the insulating ablative paint that Doc Ryder got back on the Cit a few weeks back. Expensive, but worth it."

" _Yeah, I'd say."_ Alenko had already switched back to his Diamondback, his M-32 MPML stored on his back. _"Wouldn't want to end up well-done."_

"RED-1, this is BLUE-1," Garrus began over his SquadComm after selecting the protocol to notify all the Team Leaders, "four droidekas, aft corridor, main deck, ambush style. Scratch four, no casualties. Someone's getting wise to us."

 _[Then we up the pressure]_ , came the voice of Captain Shepard, assured. _[Continue checking and locking rooms. Deny this asshole any secondary retreat location, and eventually will dig him out from whatever desk he's hiding under]_

"Understood." It was really the only way to do something like this with so few people, but more sapients didn't necessarily mean a great chance of success. More people meant more mistakes, more avenues for bribery, more moving parts. Thankfully, _Alexandria Station_ wasn't that large, and a full search would only take a couple hours at most with the way they were doing it. Once they found the control center and had Tali take over whatever ran the security, it would be game over for everything inside; one did not hand over station controls to a Quarian unless someone wanted a revolution or severe _clochea_ -kicking. In Zorah's case, she'd probably find the good Doctor and flush him out the airlock electronically.

 _No… not Saelon._

 _Harte._

 _It's that sire-_ vracking _honorless cur, Tuvoc Harte._

Garrus knew that his grandsire had fought in the Clone War as a _Hasti_ fresh from Basic, deployed to fight the genetically-cloned armies of the Traverse Warlord Tuvoc Harte on the planet of Conrang of the Yakawa System of the Caleston Rift. The fighting had lasted something like five years, incurring millions of losses, over a hundred vessels destroyed, three planets practically raised to the mantle, dozens of sites glassed into oblivion, and repercussions felt throughout the galaxy. Garrus remembered listening at his grandsires' knee as a Hatchling, in awe of the stories that came from the scarred and grizzled veteran. His grandsire had worn those scars and deformed plates with absolute pride, having saved the galaxy from a mad sapient who had defiled the very Spirits themselves, creating monstrosities that were once Turians and Krogan, biological horrors that were subliminally-taught and mnemonically-trained on how to fight, thousands created every day and practically programmed like organic droids to wage endless war against the Warlords' enemies. Millions had deployed to the Traverse to stop Harte and his horrific crimes, and Jarter Vakarian had been a part of that effort, a young Turian _Hasti_ soldier putting down monsters for the sake of Spirits and the galaxy, saving worlds and lives from a monster of the stars.

 _Grandsire, if ever you could look at me, look at me now,_ Garrus thought as he stalked down the corridor with his Vindicator at the ready and his talon on the trigger.

 _I'm going to end this bastard once and for all. Forever._

* * *

Author's Notes: You really didn't expect this to go _just like_ Garrus' loyalty mission in ME1 did you? Pretty sure I warned you.

Um, Danielle Ryder? Sara has an adopted sister? This idea has literally been in my head and notes since ARC: FALL OF THE HOUSE OF THERUM, but hasn't been seen since I had to work a way to insert it. As Richard Marcinko would say; remember this one kiddies, there will be a test later.

I'm not sure why BioWare thought making a false identity with the name 'Doctor Heart' as feasible (a Salarian with the name of an organ, really?). Instead, I changed it to something that is a synonym but then made 'Harte' a criminal of the worst magnitude; cloner, warlord, invader, occupier, and cloning more troops. Pretty much what happened to the Grand Army of the Republic when the Galactic Empire (ie, Sith) got their hands on them. This really isn't so different from what the Reapers were doing, an idea I had from the Battle Series five years ago (Battle of Khar'shan) was that the Reapers were using Khar'shan as a re-purposing station by abducting indoctrinated people and cloning them extensively to make more Husks/Cannibals/Marauders/others. The Brute was a conglomeration of Krogan, Turian, and cybernetic parts, after all.

I set the beginning of the Council Era (CE, conveniently also Common Era or AD for those who don't like using Anno Domini, or 'Year of our Lord') as 566 years before 0 BCE/CE. Canon places it as 'exactly' 500 years (sigh) but I have the founding of the Council as 566 prior to that date, meaning that 2183 for the Standard Terran Calender (the Gregorian Calender) is 2749. The discovery of the Citadel itself is approximately fifty years before that (Canon isn't too clear), when the Asari and Salarians both landed on the Shalta/Aroch Arm and First Contact occurred later that year (so… 50 PCE, or Prior to Council Era). Could you imagine the calender based on the founding of the UN, NATO, or the Warsaw Pact? It would be… almost 70 UNE! There are, btw… about 4 major calenders on the planet Earth (Gregorian, Muslim/Hijri, Jewish/Talmaic, and Chinese/Dynastic), and over 40 in total (such as the Julian, the Mayan, and the Astronomical calenders).

In MEDEVAC Calls, there is a line that denotes Special Equipment; Respirator, Extractor (airlift gurney), and Penetrator (jungle/canopy breacher). I added a space-oriented one; the pressurized umbilical for vessel transfers, just like you see in airports.

Well… hello, Professor! As is pretty usual for myself and others, I used the name of the voice actor to come up with Mordin Solus' full name. Now in Salarian tradition, each Salarian have a seven-word name; planet, continent, region, state/nation, city, clan, and then name. So Solus was born on Sur'kesh… and the rest is the _two_ voice actors of our favorite Scientist Salarian; Michael Beattie and William Salyers. The "Scientist Salarian" song came about because of Michael Beattie as he was a former stage actor who indeed did Gilbert and Sullivan's classic _The Pirates of Penzance_ in which "The Major-General Song" from ME2 and "The Pirate King" in ME3 were crafted in ode to this musical play that is now…140 years old?

So Mordin Solus is a Council Agent? Keep reading. But I think most can agree that having Mordin as a SPECTRE would be pretty sweet.

Yes, Mordin's superhero SPECTRE name is after the Doom protagonist. Mordin did make a kill with a farming implement. It might have been a chainsaw ;-) [In Canon, it was a pitchfork]


	49. The Red Harvest, IV

" _People never change; they just become more of who they really are." - Doctor Gregory House_

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May ?, 2179**

Author's Note: Yes, I took a two month break. That's what a broken hand will do to you when you can't move your fingers very well. Ever tried typing one-handed all the time?

I pulled out a rare elite canon bad guy for you, someone most of you probably have never seen or heard of, but merits his own day in the sun. Just because I care. With a chainsaw.

Say hello to the X1 of _Mass Effect: Infiltrator_.

* * *

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Detective Garrus Vakarian slipped both himself and Sara Elaine Ryder into a side room of the_ Alexandria Station _, avoiding what appeared to be a patrol of HRSKA Mechanical Security Force Protocol Droids, multi-legged shock trooper mechanical drones that Salarians used for offenses and to keep organic casualties down (on their side of things, of course). There were ten of the four-legged mechs, and Garrus queued up a PiP screen on his Elanus Risk Control Services' Rapid Response Unit-issued Kuwashii Visor that constantly took a stream of photos for catalog, evidence, and investigative purposes. The line of photos that could be played like a video or scrolled for identification purposes, and Garrus swiped at the line by looking to the right to let his eye movement move the line of photos that were semi-transparent in his vision thanks the the visors' Augmented Reality Overlay. He had caught only a brief glance of the HRSKA mechs, and found a good shot that displayed one in its entirety. He clicked his mandibles at the sight of what appeared to be two Salarian-oriented pulse-fire Aegohr Munitions' Venom Shotguns attached to the HRSKA's arm analogs, likely able to bring down a sapient in good armor in short order. One-on-one, Garrus could probably take one down with his ERCS RRU-issued M-15 Vindicator Battle Rifle if he got in the first shots and kept mobile. Three paws worth? No._

 _Especially with him escorting a_ very _sick Sara Ryder._

 _Vakarian looked to the young Human female hatchling to his side, pressed against the same wall as he for hiding and defense, but the way she leaned against it, the paleness of her soft face plates, the way she cupped her multi-fingered hand to the horizontal mandibles that were her lips? That was a clear sign of someone trying not to be sick all over the place. She had already vomited several times since he had pulled her out of that laboratory, and it hadn't lessened in number or quantity. Something inside of her was wrong, and her body was trying to either force something out, or it was reacting to something unnatural. After what he had seen of this station, he was guessing the later, but likely both. Garrus cursed himself for having to wait so long; he hadn't known Sara was in actual danger. He had overheard the conversation between the hatchling and this 'Doctor Ingree Saelon', and the reason why Sara was breaking one of the more dangerous ethics of Council Law. He had made a decision based on his own personal feelings; the young Human was doing it to save her dying mother. Garrus knew his mother had Corpalis Syndrome, a neurological degeneration disorder that, while not Human Advanced Entropic Neurological Disorder, had similar traits. He doubted that what little Sara Ryder was doing to save her mother could be used to save his own, but if that chance had existed…?_

 _So he had made a personal decision, stayed on the station unobserved to collect evidence, and let Sara have the procedure done to save her mother, vowing to get Saelon afterwards._

 _Two days worth of cataloging and evidence taking had the Turian really regretting he hadn't put a bullet right in Saelon's fringe._

 _He had found horrors beyond description in the station, horrors that shriveled the Spirit and defiled everything that was ethical and moral in the galaxy. He had found rooms filled with sleeping patients used as biological incubators for cloned organs for black market sales. He had found test subjects that were being used to graft genetic materials of species not their own as some sort of… experiment to see what worked and what didn't. Spirits be praised those ones were asleep as well, because Garrus was pretty damn certain each and every one of them would throw themselves in an airlock if they saw what had become of them. He had found sapients with limbs and organs introduced to bodies that weren't proper; Turian plates on Salarians, Asari Eezo nodes in a Human, what appeared to be Vorcha genetic material in others for the possibility for regeneration, adaptation, and the hope to carry several other forms of genetic material and limbs for support without having a body destroy itself in terror. He had seen things beyond the worst of nightmares, and he remembered a story that Sara had told him when he was recovering from his gunshot wounds, visiting him to give him company and make sure he was recovering properly and taking it easy. She had delved a little into Human Classical Literature, things she thought defined Human imagination as to what they thought the future would be like, benchmarks of her species. She had read a comedy called_ War of the Worlds _, on about a man who rebelled against his own government by writing a book called_ 1984 _… and a seriously creepy one about a Doctor who reassembled a corpse and brought it back to life; Frankenstein._

 _He had clear evidence that scenario was happening right here in_ Alexandria Station _._

" _D-Detective?" Sara whispered in her single-toned voice, keeping it low as she looked at something that wasn't the door to the lab they had slid into to hide. Her strangely-rounded blue eyes were wide as a slightly-shaking hand pointed forward. The Turian looked over to see what appeared to be five vertical vats filled with some sort of clearish emulsion fluids within their glass-like containers, each filled with a sapient being. Garrus felt his mandibles drop at the sight of them._

" _Spirits… I think they're Krogan." He murmured, the danger forgotten for a moment at the horror he was looking at. "At least, I think they_ were _Krogan or started off as that." His Kuwashii Visor was still taking photos at everything he saw as evidence, but for now he didn't need it; he had a full-fledge view of one of the most heinous crimes in Citadel Space… Galactic Space, really. His brain wasn't likely to forget what he was seeing right now._

 _Organic Technology Research and Development was severely restricted and heavily monitored by the few organizations that were allowed to delve into it, mostly medical and genetics companies that offered benefits in curing diseases and genetic maladies throughout the species of the galaxy. He knew that Humanity had gotten a few reprieves due to their own genetic research as they had fully invested in it before their discovery, not to mention that they had crafted such beneficial items such as MediGel and Stem Cell Research, saving millions of their own kind before First Contact. Genetic Modification amongst Human Beings was still a very hot (and very contested) subject as the common Human generally received mild genetic corrections for such things as poor eyesight, heart murmurs, and something called 'muscular dystrophy'. Those would have been concerning but generally accepted, but the Systems Alliance generally doused its service members with some sort of Genetic Modification Package that helped them endure the rigors of space and military duty; a performance-enhancing package that increased their physical capabilities to a fair percentage. That was illegal, but Humanity had been doing something of that caliber for nearly a generation, having invoked laws that limited what the research and capabilities of 'genemods' and what they were allowed to do. And though the Hierarchy saw it as wrong, there were certainly Generals and Admirals who wishfully thought what they could do with such capabilities for their troops and sailors. But what he was seeing?_

 _Well beyond that._

 _There were five Krogan-like beings in the tank, and by 'Krogan-like', Garrus had to admit that they were by far the largest specimens of Krogan he had ever seen in his entire life. He had seen ancient Krogan Battlemasters approaching a millennium of age that were smaller and narrower than these… creatures, and fairly smaller, at that. And these things were obviously not exactly fully Krogan, either; there was some sort of technological adaptation visible on their limbs and torsos, embedded into their organic frames. Perhaps… grown instead of surgically implanted._ Spirits… this is the very worse fear sapients think of when they think of Organic Technology, _Vakarian thought to himself as he looked upon the vats and their unconscious occupants. Each had a label upon the clear ceramic tubs that held emulsion fluid and Krogan inside, labeled 'X1' through 'X5'._

 _This wasn't genetic research; these things were likely organic battle tanks meant to dominate a battle… perhaps more._

" _I… don't feel so good." The Human hatchling murmured, slowly sinking to her knees, clutching at her gizzard as she heroically tried not to regurgitate all over the deck but failed as she vomited all over the ground in a rather projectile fashion. The scent of it was vile and maddening, but Garrus politely ignored the sight; Humans could be touchy about this sort of thing when sober. "Oh God… what's happening to me? What did he do to me?" Sara looked up to him with leaking blue eyes as she wiped at her horizontal mandibles with the back of her non-taloned paw, her fleshy mandibles pale and her soft plates almost white. She was as scared as anyone Garrus had ever seen, but she wasn't panicking or breaking down into hysterics. He had to give her credit; she certainly had a stiffness to her plates._

" _I'm going to get you back home to the Cit, Sara. I promise."_

* * *

 **Cargo Bay, SSV** _ **Normandy**_ **, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 **Present Day…**

Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood right at the deployment point of the Bell Aerospaces' UT-47 Kodiak Utility Transportation Vessel _"Rey Kenobi"_ as the gullwing door lifted open to reveal the interior of the SSV _Normandy_ and no less than six people waiting on the deck to receive. Sara had a bit of a flashback to her time as a CitEMS Emergency Medical Technician, riding into the Presidium General Hospital upon a Asari-designed _Shu'pari_ -'57 Medical Transportation Vessel Skybulance with someone in need of surgery or emergency medical care, ready to deliver a contragravity spineboard to the Sapient Emergency Care Ward where attending Doctors, nurses, and Surgeons would save a life. The _"Rey"_ landed upon its cradle as Sara immediately pointed out to two attending Sailors, pointing out where both men were to grab as she herself took the 'head' of the table.

"Lift… move forward… you two, grab the back corners and lower the table to the deck… carefully…" Sara ordered as the table that contained Council Agent Sur'kesh M'kael Bea'ttie Wi'lam Salyer Mordin Solus, DMS, the Salarian male having fallen unconscious as Sara had pushed him out of _Alexandria Station_ and to the access door in which TEAM WHITE had used to breach into the facility. Several medical apparatuses had been MetalGel'ed to the medical table, the various implements that were to keep the Doomslayer alive only to prolong his agony, to extend his life in a horrific state. In order to remove them, Agent Solus was going to need emergency surgery to correct his injuries so they could take them off. The entire thing weighed in at possibly two hundred kilograms, and Ryder was glad she worked out so extensively towards the thought of having to carry a Sailor or Marine personally, carrying heavy bags and running with them, or performing dead lifts and squat thrusts to get herself ready for the possibility that she would need to throw a Marine over her shoulder and rush them from a hot spot in order to perform her duties to save their life. Pushing the entire mess of medical devices and the Salarian strapped to the table hadn't been an easy effort, but she had been able to do so by herself while Marshal Samantha Collins, _Sha'me_ Niki'Raan nar Tombay, and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss covered her medical retreat out of _Alexandria Station._ She hated that she had to leave them behind, but it wasn't uncommon for a Navy Corpsman to evacuate with a casualty to keep them alive until they reached a Casualty Collection Point or a Mobile Navy Surgical Hospital if one were available, or a vessels' Med Bay if one weren't. The table plus its additions went to the deck of the _Normandy_ gently enough as Sara jumped out of the _"Rey"_. "You two? Grab that medical cart right there and gently roll it to the Med Bay." The Petty Officer pointed at two Boatswains, and then at the cart that wasn't attached. "And be very careful. It's worth several megaCredits and will save this man's life."

There was no need for her to tell them that it was a genetic material crafting station; a cloning machine.

Sara pushed the table into the cargo elevator that would take herself and her patient to the Gun Deck, where the Med Bay was located as she kept an eye on the vital signs and conditions of the various devices practically glued onto Solus' medical table, all of it running on Universal Power Cells. She easily had an hour or so of power to continue running, but she knew that the first step before beginning any kind of live-saving technique would be to hook the mess of instruments into the ships' power. She had already confirmed the need of an Electricians' Mate ready at the Med Bay to do just that on the _"Rey"_ , as well as being informed that both Commander Karin Chakwas and Able Seaman Helen Lowe had quickly prepped the Med Bay for emergency surgery. It had been approximately fifteen minutes since Sara began carting Agent Mordin Solus out of the lab room from where she found him to the time she entered the cargo bay of the SSV _Normandy_ , keeping an eye on Solus' vitals while having SAM monitor the multiple machines that were connected. Sara pushed the table and patient towards the Med Bay as soon as the elevator reached the Gun Deck, Doctor Chakwas already prepped and ready to go as Helen looked at Agent Solus with alarmed eyes; a Corpsman who knew she was well in over her head, but not backing down either.

Sara knew what she was going to do, she was going to make this right; she was going to pull this Council Agent right out of the very jaws of Death Itself.

* * *

 **TEAM BROWN, "North Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

 _Sha'me_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya found her jaw hitting the bottom of her helmet as something came out of a door. Something big… _**Really Queeping Big**_.

"Ancestors! What is _that_!" The Quarian asked in a panicked tone as she hoisted her Rannoch Industries' Reegar Carbine Electromagnetic Emission Shotgun to a firing solution as her SMARTglass viewer began displaying telemetry via her VIOS software suite SHODAN on the inside of her helmets' viewer as microsensors received and fed data to her targeting software that connected her VIOS management software, her Quarian-manufactured Rannoch Industries' QuArmor EnviroSuit, and her Reegar Shotgun. She had taken a few unconscious steps back, almost stepping into Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach as the Marine Rifleman aimed his own Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle at the same target, the Marine's stance shifting slightly. The normally-talkative Marine was silent; struck speechless was the Human phrase. It was an accurate one. Even SHODAN was coming back with more question marks than answers as to what she was seeing.

" _Abomination…"_ Came the answering growl of the big game hunter Urdnot Wrex, the eight-hundred year old Krogans' tone saying all that need to be said in a form of description as well as orders. Tali couldn't find a reason to disagree with the half-ton Tuchankan as she looked at…

 _Ancestors_ , that thing was easily twice as heavy as their own _Krogan_!

Wrex wasted no time coming up with a plan of attack; the Tuchankan lowered his head and bolted forward at an incredible sprinting speed that Tali could only marvel at, and she was a digitigrade! The big game hunter was going to bowl the monstrosity over with mass and force and finish the job for them in one fell swoop…

The big… thing… whatever it was, swatted Wrex with a rather epic-looking backhand, sending the eight-century old Krogan flying into a bulkhead in which the Tuchankan hit hard enough to leave a dent. Tali felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the Krogan just… lying there, not moving at all. _Wrex…?_ No… not _Wrex_. Wrex was practically indestructible, always up front with deadly protection and menacing professionalism, the consummate warrior who'd probably outlive them all save Doctor Liara T'soni. The Quarian looked at the tall bulky creature that had just merely _slapped_ Wrex away as if a _tsitsi_ , roaring a challenge as it raised its huge meaty fists and slammed them to the deck of the _Station_ , buckling the Alumnisteel planking with its strength.

" _RED-1, BROWN-Sagittarius, Taurus is down. Facing something… extreme."_ STG Agent Zevin Raeka called out over the SquadComm calmly.

"For the Homeworld, _bosh'tet_!" Zorah cried out as she activated the Reegar Carbine's trigger, sending an invisible ionizing ultraviolet targeting laser as she aimed at the thing that had just taken down the big game hunter, creating an electrostatic conductive path between the weapon and the target, before the weapons' Universal Power Cell powered up its ultramax charge capacitors and sent a high amperage/low voltage wave that connected the barrel of the weapon to the monstrosity in an effect known as a spark gap. A peal of electric thunder coursed down the corridor, splashing over the metallic surfaces of the station in between Carbine and creature, electric/plasma fire vomiting forth in a storm of deadly electrical energy intending to overpower electrical systems, computer components, and superheat anything in between. Tongues of lightning vomited through the Quarian-made weapon crafted to kill Geth without mercy or hesitation, while working really well on armor systems, OmniTools, software, and anything that possessed organic tissues as well. While the range of the weapon left a lot to be desired, anything within its cone of severity would die a very nasty death that Lance Corporal Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss liked to call 'electrically barbecued'. Tali screamed defiance as she sent ten percent of her UPC's total power to consume the creature standing before her that would dare hurt one of _her_ crew.

Electrical fire wreathed over the four meter tall monstrosity's flesh and mechanical components as the spark gap of electrical fury danced through the corridor, electrifying the corridor down a ten meter path, arcs of electricity striking the gigantic Krogan-like being as secondary peals danced between the bulkheads as a tempest of electricity coated everything in between shotgun and its target; the ultimate ship-clearing weapon. The creature roared as arcs danced upon its flesh as rounds struck it from the Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle and Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, Agent Raeka and Private Nathaniel 'Ballsack' Balsach firing as well as the Reegar powered down from its storm as the final volts of static electricity dissipated from the corridor in miniaturized sparks and arcs as Tali felt her silvery eyes go wide at the view and displays that SHODAN was giving her on the inner-curve of her visor.

The… thing… whatever it was…

…it was still standing. And it looked pissed. _Really_ pissed.

" _Oh dear."_ The Salarian Not-Dalatrass hummed as she queued up one of two Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTools, tying something rapidly with her hand as she selected some option. _"RED-1, Taurus down, declare assistance, North Spire, prefer the tank."_

The gigantic Krogan splayed out its arms, displaying the hardware added to its forearms, the armor added to its chest, the holographic visor that banded around its periphery-set eyes, the added mass and bulk to its torso and legs, leaning forward as it let off a challenging roar, its cavernous mouth opening wide to display its many teeth and gaping maw as its massive three-fingered hands tightened into fists as the creature lowered its thick bony headcrest.

"Oh _queep_." The Quarian Pilgrim moaned as she saw the stance it lowered to; one of a charge. For a normal-sized Krogan, it was a certain-death sentence with its mass and speed; an organic wrecking ball of fury. With the size of this thing?

" _Preferably now."_ Raeka finished transmitting as she let loose a salvo of chip-loaded tech mines from her Polaris OmniTool, three dart-like objects firing forward from the Not-Dalatrass' left arm as they struck the monstrosity, the Aerogel-encapsulated shells bursting against the creature and coating it with what appeared to be activated magnesium phosphate as incendiary fires bloomed over its chest, making it scream in pain, but certainly didn't make it stop from sprinting forward with body-crushing force. _"Scatter!"_ The Salarian female shouted as the three of them dove away as the brutish Krogan roared through the corridor, almost thick enough to cover the entirety of the hallway itself as Tali dove for the nearest door, the ingress opening up as she tucked-and-rolled inside ( _thank you Ash for teaching me that!_ , she thought), practically feeling the atmo shift with the sprinting force of the Krogan-like monstrosity as she rolled back up on her two-toed feet, pivoting and rounding the corner of the door she had dove through to see where the creature was.

It had changed some fifteen meters down the hall, stopping when it hadn't connected with its targets. Tali raised her Reegar and gave it another burst of electroplasmic fire from her EME Shotgun, electrifying the thing once more as it gave off a bellow of pain and anger as Tali continued to expend her Universal Power Supply connected to the Reegar Carbine to vomit as much damage as possible to the obvious science experiment gone terribly wrong as it began to lunge forward towards her. The Quarian squeaked in fear as she ducked back in the room as the Krogan's massive frame loomed over her, taking a swipe at her with one of its meaty three-finger paws, denting the alumisteel wall of the room as the Pilgrim back-pedaled as she ejected her discharged UPC, her left hand grabbing another to insert into her Carbine, her hands trembling slightly enough to make the task a little more difficult as she finally slammed the Power Cell home, recharging the weapon as the Krogan monstrosity tried to enter the room that she was in, filled with comatose patients. Its bulk was too massive for the door; too tall, too wide, too thick, so it grabbed either side of the frame as began to pull apart, the bulkhead walls of the room squealing as the metal was slowly sheered in half as Zorah opened up once more, firing a full five seconds to expend the full use of her Universal Power Cell into the monstrosity coming for her as it screamed in pain as electricity arc'ed between the frame, the ceiling, and the deck as plasmitic electrical fire coated its massive frame, spark gaps and fingers of lighting wreathing its dense flesh as two red eyes zeroed in on her, its massive maw pulled back in a fearsome sneer.

 _Queep_ , the genetic horror was in a bloodrage.

The dataware hacktivist ejected the discharged UPC from her weapon as she tried loading in the next one as quickly as she could as the monstrosity shouldered its way into the room, sticking its arm and head through the portal, most of its chest through the widened opening as it forced its other arm through with sheering and screeching of metal as it scraped its way inside the laboratory as Tali finally loaded the Power Cell into her Reegar, whimpering as she hoisted up her Shotgun and leveled it at the monster in the room with her, her bowels turning into jelly as her shaking hands gripped her Reegar in a death grip, knowing she was about to die.

The Krogan roared as two meaty fists raised to slam into her frail frame… and it back erupted into a massive detonation.

" _As the Humans say; come get you some… bitch."_

"Raeka!" Tali gaped as she saw the Salarian Not-Dalatrass lower her OmniTool-wreathed arm and hoist up her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle as thermite seared into the massive hump of the Krogan, making it shriek in agony as the Quarian scampered passed the gigantic Krogan, joining at the STG Agents' side as Agent Zevin began laying down heavy fire from her powerful rifle into the Krogan as it thrashed and tried to stamp out the exothermic reduction/oxidation reaction that was searing into its hump and rear portion of its torso with its hands, magnesium smoke smoldering from the chemical reaction of magnesium/aluminum ferro-oxide, burning into its flesh at an excess of twenty-five hundred degrees Celsius. Molten metal and burning flesh dripped off its back from the reaction that neither water nor space would stop as the oxidation process of the reaction created its own fuel, stopping only if one could dissipate the extreme heat or when its host elements had finally ran out. Tali added her fire along with Raeka's, sending peals of lightning to dance upon the Krogan's frame, electricity discharging over its flesh as the monstrosity turned to face them, its eyes wide and _angry_. The Quarian Pilgrim wasted no time discharging her Reegar's power supply, electrocuting the monster as Raeka palmed the heat dispensing bolt of her Argus to cool down her heat sink as the genetic horror lumbered towards them, growling as it moved towards them at a fast pace, both Salarian and Quarian rushing out of the lab and into the corridor. To get trapped with that thing would likely get them the same result as it would with any Krogan; a quick and messy death. But out in the open was hardly preferable; the thing was faster than they were, denser, and could bull right through them with ease.

Tali was already working on her Armali Councils' Nexus OmniTool as they entered the corridor, queuing up her minifacturing suite as she fabricated an assault drone, MetalGel, CeramiGel, PlastiGel, and OmniGel creating a minifabricated drone powered by a Universal Power Cell and ran with both a multi-core processing chip and a small contragravity core chip to craft a hovering turret that would engage an enemy with OmniGel rounds delivered electromagnetically through a linear motor rail; what Humans called a 'coil gun'. It took ten seconds for the drone to be manufactured and printed, in which Zorah and Zevin ran down the corridor that they had already cleared to buy themselves space and time as Raeka input something into her own OmniTool as a loud bang behind them indicated that the _thing_ had entered into the corridor, likely by smashing its way through the ruined door and into the nearby wall with force and destruction.

"Keelah, Keelah, Keelah…" Tali panted as she prayed to the Ancestors for her minifacturing suite to _hurry up!_ as Agent Zevin pivoted in mid-step and flung out her right hand, holding the stock of her Argus in her left as a condensed ball of AeroGel flew out like a grenade, launched from her OmniTool to strike the mutated Krogan's face. The dataware hacktivist chanced a look as she saw an icy mist envelope the monstrosity, agitating it even further as it slammed a fist into a wall in rage as it began moving forward, and ended up running slightly into a bulkhead, forcing it to change its vector. SHODAN chimed that her turret was ready, loaded with her VI software suites' drone program as Tali reached down to her left thigh and tossed the turret behind her.

"Go for the eyes, Chitika!"

The assault turret spun up as its crafted linear motor sub-machine gun began firing flecks of OmniGel at hundreds of meters per second at the Krogan, aiming for the only two organs that Tali knew Tuchankans didn't have a redundant set for; the optical set. The sound of four-round bursts occurred from behind her as the Pilgrim and STG Agent reached the perpendicular corridor they had passed earlier and cleared, using the corners as cover as they both pivoted and aimed their weapons down where the monstrosity was. Zorah switched out her Reegar for her only 'physical' weapon; the Rannoch Industries' Queth Pulse Submachine Gun. It was a lightweight weapon that was meant to strip shields from Geth, their hardware bodies not as durable as the Geth relied more upon their more advanced shielding technology and mobility of their platforms. With Wrex down and Ballsack's location unknown, the Carbine could accidentally hit them. Tali took the short weapon in both hands, its telescoping stock placed firmly into her shoulder as she gripped the butt and forward handle of the weapon when it configured itself to combat operations, a holographic sight winking into existence and displaying on the inner curve of her visor's SMARTglass. Chitika was engaging the Krogan that was blundering down the corridor, one meaty hand covering its face as if… as if trying to wipe it off. It was practically ignoring the incoming fire from the assault turret, the OmniGel rounds practically bouncing off its hide. Well, it had been made as a distraction.

 _[Zorah, Zevin, private chat]_ , came the voice of the Not-Dalatrass, calm and collected. Tali marveled at that. _[I believe it is blind]_

"Wish we had some more powerful grenades." Tali lamented as she studied the readouts of her SMARTglass, looking for _anything_ that could be used to help out. The Krogan had lumber to the assault drone and smashed it into pieces with a quick swipe, shattering it completely as the Quarian quickly looked at her read-out. There were hackable sources all around, but most of them were data modules for minor pieces of medical equipment that would only give her access to health rhythms, a pair of sensors that would turn on local lights sources based upon movement, a light-laser link module meant for data transfers, the airlock access system…

… _THAT'S IT!_

"Raeka? Know how the Captain likes having movie nights on the _Normandy_ and shows off Human vids for the crew?

"Did you see this really old movie called _Aliens_?"

* * *

Special Tasks Group Special Reconnaissance Agent Mannovai Janoir Ye'ili Tavac Zevin Raeka almost wanted to facepalm herself at the suggestion of _Sha'me_ Tali'Zorah nar Reyya. Almost, because it was a good (if extremely dangerous) plan that would work if executed correctly.

The Quarian Pilgrim wanted to blast a large monstrosity out of an airlock and into the void of space.

The Krogan monstrosity thing walked around on all fours, and doing so in a semi-drunken manner. It couldn't seem to get its bearings right, trying to walk forward and colliding with the walls on either side of the corridor it was in at either sharp or gentle angles, unable to get the sense of what 'straight' was and orient itself in a path that would have it travel down the corridor in parallel to the walls. This was a clear indication that the creature was ocularally blind; its eyes had been damaged. Raeka had fought a few Krogan before in more-or-less straight-up fights, preferring more to making a few traps and victim-activated devices to do the work for her instead of being smashed into by a bloodraging sapient with more guns than brains. Killing a Krogan wasn't _too_ difficult if one knew where to shoot; soft spots in their carapace that were less dense, allowing rounds to actually penetrate their thick hide to cause them injury, or locations that would hamper their mobility. She had never fired a FlashFrost program tech mine into the face into a Krogan for blinding; one of the few organs they didn't have secondaries for. Obvious, really; go for the eyes.

Still, an overlarge blind Krogan was still a huge threat (pun intended, of course), but now they had some time to lay those traps.

But still… an airlock?

"Tali, what do you have in the way of explosives?" Raeka asked as she watched the Krogan walk snout-first into a wall again, roaring in frustration at smacking itself in the face with an immovable object. It would have been humorous except for the fact that the wall was practically half caved-in by the act, the metal staved in and crumpled from the force of the monstrosity _walking_ into it. The Void only knew if it could actually _plow_ through a wall given enough momentum. That was not a laughing matter. The only hull-breaching charge they had had been used to breach the airlock entrance in the North Spire. An anti-personnel grenade would not be enough to make a hole large enough to suck out a being that size. No, the entirety of the airlock needed to be opened.

 _[I can bypass the safety protocols and hack open the airlock, Raeka]_ , the sound of the female Quarian's voice coming over the two-way private chat so as to not alert the monster in the hall. _[But I think we're going to need to goad it to the airlock. Give it a good running start straight into it, I open the doors and flush it out, and then shut the doors behind it. But we're going to be unsecured and stuck in a hall with a Krogan… whatever that is]_

"Leave the baiting to me." The STG Agent replied, having an idea what to do. The both of them had maglocks on their boots for when gravity was a concern, but those wouldn't be nearly enough for a depressurization event occurred. They would need to physically hold onto something and pray that they actually succeeded keeping themselves out of the Void. Yes, their armored hardsuits did have personnel location beacons within them for such occasions, but it was rare that someone was rescued being lost in space, usually running out of breathable atmo or power for thermals to keep someone warm from the near-Absolute Zero of space. Still, fighting depressurization and getting sucked out into the black of space was more manageable than fighting some genetic horror of a Krogan with what looked to be armor implanted in its limbs and possibly its chest, too. Already the Salarian was queuing up her Kassa Fabrications' Polaris OmniTool on her left wrist to load up her FlashFire program, loading a protein chip with a malicious script that would cause a reaction of the OmniGel fluids inside a CeramiGel shell to turn into a protoplasmic goop that would burn through most modern-day armors quite easily. For this to work, she would need the strange Krogan thing mad.

Well, nothing brought out pain and anger like being set on fire.

 _[Give me fifteen seconds to hack through the stations' security protocols]_ , Tali said as she worked _both_ of her Armali Councils' Nexus OmniTools at the same time, her arms crossed to type in the sequences and scripts she needed at the same time, one hand typing normally while the other was technically typing upside down. _That's a nifty trick,_ Raeka thought to herself, knowing that the Quarian Pilgrim was a better hacker now that the not-Dalatrass would ever be. She certainly couldn't use both of her OmniTools at the same time. _[Bosh'tet_ queep _mutating algorithm sub-daemon firewall_ jor'tet _… this isn't a common subscription or even one of those supposedly fancy ones a child in her bubble could crack through in three minutes. It's hand-written and unique… it uses trimary code and they aren't ones and zeros]_

"I'll buy us some time." Agent Zevin replied over the private chat as she looked to see the Krogan monstrosity having finally oriented itself somewhat aligned with the hallway, no longer running into the bulkheads or the walls. It was sniffing the air, likely trying to scent them now that its eyes were damaged to the point of uselessness. The STG Agent didn't know if they would regenerate or not, nor did she know if the Krogan would be able to catch their scent through their armor and EnviroSuits. Krogan did have the best olfactory sense of the galactic species, so it wasn't a risk she was willing to take. The FlashFire program ready to deploy, the Salarian female went to her other OmniTool and loaded up another chip with a different program, this one merely marked 'Distraction Protocol'. It didn't even use any of her reserves of MetalGel, PlastiGel, CeramiGel, or OmniGel. Actually, it was a personally-crafted program she had made to troll her mother when she had been just a _taddi_ ; her first code. Raeka loaded it with a smile as she held her M-55 Argus in her left hand as she raised up her right arm and fired the protein chip high and above the Krogan to strike somewhere down the hall.

" **Hey, trollbutt!"**

 _[Did… you just use a_ Thu'um _?]_ , the Quarian female asked, her tone amused as she continued to type akimbo.

The Krogan, on the other hand, stopped sniffing as it quickly turned about to the direction of the chip and its microspeaker behind it, hearing the insult and turning to address it.

" **Does your breeder know you're off your leash?"** Raeka put her Argus back into her firing shoulder as the Krogan roared in the direction of the insulting chip that had attached itself to a wall a dozen meters away, the Quarian snickering over the private chat line as she continued to hack into the station's security system. **"You'd be much prettier if you smiled… oops, I was wrong!"** The monstrosity roared as it charged forward, blitzing at an incredible speed at the direction of the noise, smashing into a wall and crumpling a part of it as it took a meaty fist and struck out in raging anger, burying its arm halfway into a metal wall. The sight of that had the not-Dalatrass pretty amazed; she had seen Krogan dent a wall minimally with their paws and headplates, and even put a good size impression of themselves when they dipped their head and charged into an obstruction. But she had never seen a Krogan _punch_ through a wall. Wrex had been slapped aside by the creature and hadn't reappeared yet. Likely, the big game hunter might be down for a good period of time, possibly to regenerate from his injuries. They hadn't seen Private Nathanial 'Ballsack' Balsach since they had to dodge the Krogan's charge a few minutes prior. Raeka hoped that they were alright, but there was little they could do about it as long as there was a threat present. Kill the Krogan, and then see to their comrades. It was what Zevin would want if she were the injured one. **"Quit looking at that mirror! We can't afford to fix it!"** Another fist went through a wall and the Salarian winced at the sight. _Come on, Tali, work your coding magic_ , the not-Dalatrass thought to herself as the monstrosity ripped one of its arms out from the wall with a shriek of twisting metal. Void, it didn't even look injured. **"You're the reason why pyjaks and varrens shouldn't mate!"** There was a scoffing tone that came over the private chat, Tali's silvery eyes darting to the Salarian before she went back to the screens displayed on her faceplates' SMARTglass.

 _[Really?]_

"I was four." Raeka offered as a defense, the mild insults something she made when she was just a young female hitting puberty. "Have you hacked in yet?"

 _[Ugh! Just about!]_ The Pilgrim replied, her tone disgusted. _[It's coded in Salarian Alphanumerics… but used symbols instead of numbers or letters. Who the_ queep _does that?]_

"An evil genius." The sniper replied as she readied her M-55 Argus, ready to take on an unbeatable foe. "Ready when you are, Zorah."

 _[Well, protocol's been bypassed, so get ready to hang onto something]_ , the Quarian said as her OmniTools disappeared from her wrists momentarily. _[Now we get the big male's attention, and I have an idea]_

"Uh oh."

" _HEY! BOSH'TET!"_ Tali shouted from around the corner, making the Krogan pause to turn to the direction of her vox'ed voice, heading right for them, picking up speed. _"WE QUARIANS INVENTED THE GETH ON ACCIDENT!_

" _WATCH WHAT WE CAN DO ON_ **PURPOSE** _!"_

And her three-finger hand smashed down on her left wrist.

* * *

 **TEAM RED, "North Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

" _WARNING! AIRLOCK MALFUNCTION! DEPRESSURIZATION COMMENCING IN DECK TEN!"_

Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) felt her heart drop with the sound of the station-wide announcement and warning.

" _Skipper!"_ Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams called out with alarm as the Colonial Army Soldier ran right next to the N7's side while Doctor Liara T'soni ran right behind them, the Asari Protheantologist a little out of breath as she tried to keep up with the two seasoned Human Warriors. They had gotten the call from Agent Zevin Raeka about facing something extreme, and Jannie had gotten a quick downloaded JIF file from Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya of an image of what they were combating; some sort of super-Krogan. They had abandoned assaulting tactics for rescue, leaving Private First Class Louis 'Brassiere' Broussard in the General Dynamics' M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle, engaging more incoming Colicoid Creations' Droidekas with the tanks' coaxial machinegun while the Level Three Council Agent, the Colonial Soldier, and the Protheantologist rushed forward to give aid to TEAM BROWN. The fact that whatever they were facing had somehow beat _Urdnot Wrex_ and then was sufficient enough threat that two extremely smart and very well-armed individuals weren't able to thwart it (considering one was practically a tech mage and the other carried an electrical flamethrower) said much. Realistically, she wasn't sure if she or Ash could add much more to the equation except more bullets or perhaps some anti-personnel explosives. No, instead they were going to escort the one person that _could_ realistically add something to the fight.

They were going to bring a Biotic to a Krogan fight.

Shepard ran down the corridors of _Alexandria Station_ as fast as she tactically could, using her Alliance Offensive Firearm Initiative M249 Squad Automatic Weapon to clear corners and hallways along with Williams and her Kassa Fabrications M76 Reverent Light Machine Gun, both N7 and Soldier quickly clearing areas as they rushed to their objective. There were four members of her team that were in danger by a singular foe, something somehow completely unexpected. A singular Krogan was a threat, but she didn't doubt that TEAM BROWN could handle but a single Krogan with the weapons and tricks that they possessed. Even if Wrex were somehow taken out of the equation, Raeka, Tali'Zorah, and Ballsack ranged from _quite capable_ to _extremely deadly_ in terms of personal combat. Hell, she had seen Tali zap a Krogan dead with that awesome Reegar Carbine Shotgun of hers in the ExoGeni Headquarters solo back on Feros, cooking a Krogan merc alive with one full-powered blast. And Raeka possessed two damn good weapons in her Kassa Fabrications' M-55 Argus Battle Rifle and Ariake Technologies' M-90 Indra Automatic Sniper Rifle, not to mention all the offensive tech hardware programs she possessed in both of her OmniTools. A singular Krogan wouldn't be much of a threat to the Salarian Not-Dalatrass or the Quarian hacktivist. Even Private Balsach had the armor and weapons to give a Krogan pause.

No, they were facing something that had not only threatened the entire team, but sounded as if it were _winning_.

Jannie wouldn't have a repeat of Feros. Over her Goddamn dead body on a cold day in Hell.

" _Goddess, an airlock malfunction!"_ T'soni huffed as she kept up with the two warriors, the Asari Maiden out of breath but never complaining as she kept a token rear-guard while trailing behind the two Humans, her Hydra Armaments' M-113 Drake Assault Rifle in her hands as oppose to her lighter Kassa Fabrications' M-12 Locust Submachine Gun or her Elkoss Combines' E-2 Edge Sapient Defense Pistol. The Asari Doctor of Protheantology had grown as a combatant since her rescue from Therum, getting classes and training from a variety of members on the SSV _Normandy_ and TEAM LION. Before, she was mediocre at best, knowing safe practices and firing discipline at the very least when combating a thousand Geth hardware platforms in the depths of Dig Site Alpha. Two months of war and combat operations had forged her into a much better combatant, having learned how to acquire targets faster, to be more accurate, and how to engage the enemy while under fire. Yes, her best skills laid in her native Biotics in which she used to protect her team members with extreme prejudice. But she wasn't solely reliant upon her Biotics, not having been trained in the combative Biotic arts like her kin who went to the various Commando or Huntress Lodges scattered throughout Thessia and Asari Republic Space. Still, she had improved considerably and was committed to the mission. That said much.

Jannie tried not to think of the deadly words _airlock malfunction_ ; a spacers' worst fear being a hull breach of any kind.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she rounded a corner to go to the tenth deck… and found a containment door closed to prevent station-wide depressurization.

"Ghost! I need you to hack through the firewall protocol and open this door!" The redhead told her custom-made electronic intrusion combat drone, the contragravity polyhedron beeping as it went to interface with an access panel via its laser-link. Her AppleCorps VIOS X Edition Management Software Operating System, Cortana, was already linking her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armors' multi-core processors as well as the build package that had extra processing speed, extra power sources for high-gain computing, and a sub-thermal cooling system to promote faster cycles (and thus faster hack times). The readout displayed at the side of her vision on her armors' Augmented Reality Overlay providing her a detailed analysis of her Intrusion Hackware Program that she had programmed herself. While she wasn't a great hacker herself, she had hand-crafted a multifaceted cryptokey that could change with a systems' perimeters to allow physical and electronic access into a secured system through a series of mutating brute force attacks. She had learned how to program through a variety of N's and Office of Naval Intelligence Agents to add to her repertoire after having a mission where she couldn't access intel from a secured computer system at a pirate base that she and a team of Systems Alliance Navy Military Police raided in the Antaeus System of the Hades Gamma Cluster. She had learned her lesson and begun crafting Ghost as an electronic intrusion device as a means to supplement her effectiveness. Plus she was tickled at the thought of having a _Destiny_ -like device that worked in the same fashion as the MMORPG.

The readout from Ghost was showing that the cryptokey was trying to match the language of the system and working through multiple passwords, access means, and SALT-cutting tools through pre-arranged scripts and hacks, trying to find the so-called 'puzzle piece' that would fit the access. No doubt whoever was sitting at security was getting notices of a brute attack on their electronics, but considering they had brought a _tank_ to a VBSS raid, she doubted that someone unlocking a door was their biggest concern. Jannie winced at the sight that the hacking protocol wasn't finding any kind of matchable language in its massive database, meaning that someone had coded a unique language to protect their electronics instead of getting a purchased security script. Smart… and ultimately able to defeat Ghosts' repertoire. Jannie _could_ hack a terminal, but she was nowhere near the software programmer as, say, 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, Detective Garrus Vakarian, Agent Zevin Raeka, or Tali'Zorah. The other side of the door was likely a zero-atmo environment, but that wasn't going to stop her from going in and putting whatever was threatening _her_ team into the hurt locker.

" _Skipper? Let me try_ my _hacking tool."_ Williams offered up as she maglocked her Reverent to her chestplate and pulled out her Heckler and Koch M320 Variable Munitions Launcher, slipping a kill grenade into the side-loading tube.

"Li! Fire in the hole!" Jannie called out as she took six quick paces away from the lockdown door, Ghost floating over to her as the Asari erected a quick barrier with a sweep of her hands to protect them from collateral damage as the Colonial Soldier jogged several meters away from the door before raising her Munitions Launcher and firing the H+K. The grenade impacted against the door and blasted a hole about three times the size of Jannie's fist into the containment door, air being sucked through the breech as a new set of alarms rang out throughout the station.

" _WARNING! HULL BREECH IN DECK TEN!"_

The redhead gritted her teeth as the maglocks in her boots kept her from being pulled forward, the breech a small one as the atmo in the station was sucked out. Failsafe protocols activated as more lockdown doors closed to prevent all the atmo from being evacuated from the station as it took about a minute for the compartmented sections' atmo to be sucked out, Jannie's life-support systems in her SPECTRE Armor activating and running off of her suit air, leaving her about three hours worth if air for the time being until she entered an atmo'ed area or found an oxygen recharging station if available. It wasn't nearly a pressing concern as it was as what she was about to enter into.

"Nice shot, Army. Bastila? Make us a bigger hole." The contragravity armored assault drone chirped as it floated over to where Ash stood, priming two OmniGel-crafted rockets from its reserves and launching two of them at the breech, creating a larger gap in the containment door. It was almost large enough for someone in armor to get through, so Jannie had the assault drone fire again, Bastila flash-forging two more rockets from its minifacturing suite from its reserves of OmniGel, MetalGel, PlastiGel, and Hi-Ex Mod program-loaded protein chips to create a chemical reaction in the various 'gels to turn slurry into something explosive. It took six seconds for the rockets to be made and fired as the hole grew larger, metal fragments splintering away from the door as the alumnisteel containment door was breeched once more, the hole now more than large enough for herself and her team to duck and pass through. The atmo had fully been evacuated, so now their big concerns would be any suit breeches that would expose them to the vacuum. "Team? Stack and breech." Jannie stood just short of the hole as Williams got right behind her with Liara pulling the last man in the stack, switching out her M-113 Drake Assault Rifle for her M-12 Locust Submachine Gun for both tactical and Biotic engagement, holding out her left hand to maintain a Biotic Barrier for protection. "Ghost, Bastila, push through and give me a beachhead." Both drones pushed their way through the hole, the assault drone hovering through first before the polyhedron dipped below the breech to scan and ascertain any threats. Cortana displayed the views and readouts on her helmets' ARO to show an empty corridor for the moment.

"Team? Push through."

* * *

 **Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, May ?, 2179**

 _ **Four years ago…**_

 _Sara Elaine Ryder walked down the empty corridors of_ Alexandria Station _, being helped along by a member of the famed Citadel Security Services' Special Crimes Unit, one Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian. The Turian Detective and Sniper of the most premiere tactical law enforcement agency in the galaxy, the C-SEC Rapid Response Unit, was practically holding her vertical as he helped her along her way towards whatever means of escape that the Detective had in mind. She had lost the measure of time and the many turns they had taken in the station to avoid detection and running into anything that would have them discovered, neither one of them really able to afford to get into a confrontation considering Sara wasn't armed or armored and Garrus was practically carrying her along. She felt utterly sick to her stomach, so dizzy that it was hard to focus on where she was, her legs feeling like rubber and her bowels ready to defecate on the spot. She had a hard time remembering if she had ever felt so ill in her life._

 _She stumbled along with the help of Detective Vakarian, struggling to put one foot in front of another._

" _We're almost there, little one." The Turian's flanged duel-toned voice said quietly, one taloned arm supporting her body weight easily as he held her by the waist, the other taloned hand holding her left one for extra support. It was all Sara could do to not evacuate her stomach on the spot and eliminate whatever was in her bowels, whimpering as she continued to move with the Detectives' help. "Just a little bit further until we reach shuttle bay where we will escape." Sara could only mumble and nod, unable to much of anything else as the Turian helped her along, trying to get to their destination as quickly as she could go. Neither one of them wanted to stay in the station one second longer than they had to._

 _Her stomach roiled, her bowels churned and bubbled, her rubbery legs threatened to give out from under her as she sweat and panted from the effort of walking, but Sara concentrated on moving. She was_ not _going to get captured again._

 _Vakarian led her through a door where the Firstborn saw a small cargo bay that had half a dozen small-distance vessels occupying their berthing cradles, looking like the same one she had entered in through when she first arrived. Her mind tried to work, but she felt too hot and too sick to connect any of her thoughts coherently, struggling not to fall down or blow chunks all over the docks' deck as Garrus led her inside, closing the door behind him as quickly as they had entered to minimize their presence. The Turian continued to escort her towards a Trebin Astronaticals' V-23_ Apaltus _Personnel Delivery Vessel, the Turian shuttle craft a common one. Sara hoped Garrus knew how to fly the small spacecraft; she had learned under the tutelage of Flight Lieutenant Kaius Contenus of_ Skybulance-37 _, after all. But this wasn't a_ Shu'pari _-'57 Medical Vessel. Still, the basics were the same at the least. Detective Vakarian took the latch of the gullwing door of the V-23 and lifted it open, helping Sara crawl into the conveyance as she whimpered, everything in her body hurting. God, something was_ wrong _and she was nowhere near any kind of medical aid. She didn't even want to imagine what Doctor Ingree Saelon had done to her. The young Human woman crawled onto the deck of the small vessel as the Turian closed the door behind him, getting into the pilots' seat to activate and begin the flight sequence for the_ Apaltus _PDV Shuttle as Sara felt consciousness slipping from her, her vision going dark as she struggled against the growing queasy feeling that threatened to explode from within her._

" _D-Detective…" Sara mumbled through too-hot lips and a tongue that felt oh so swollen. "Detective… if… if I don't make it…"_

" _You will." His flanged voice insisted, brooking no doubt in the matter._

"… _please tell my family I love them and I'm sorry." Sara finished, her grip on reality crumbling. "I just wanted to save my Mom." Tears burned her eyes as the realization struck her; she had failed. She wasn't going to be able to get her Lymph Nodes cloned so she could buy her mother time, to help her in her current state. Sara wept as the shuttlecraft grew dark around her, feeling it shift slightly as the Turian piloted the vessel out of the station to escape._

" _I'm sorry, Mom…"_

* * *

 **TEAM WHITE, "South Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins (SAMS, OST) gritted her teeth as she took aim at yet another Colicoid Creations' Droideka roller mech with her Smith and Wesson Model 696 MA Revolver, the Mammothkiller barking out twice in quick succession as her right hand fanned the hammer on the buntline revolver to put another of the security mechs out of commission. She had already put seven down with a mixture of her Mammothkiller and her SMWSG MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. I Shotgun while Niki'Raan nar Tombay electrocuted another with her Rannoch Industries' Adas Electrostatic Discharge Rifle, burying a connectivity tag into her target and barbecuing the son of a bitch quickly and efficiently. Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss was engaging another with his Valerion Kinetics' R36 Karseus Assault Rifle, opting for a three-round burst to drain the capacitors of the mechanical robots' shields and leave it open for physical engagement as his target fired back with a pair of automatic weapons fire that appeared to be the stripped-down versions of Elkoss Combines' M8 Avengers attached to the arm analogues. Sam took a proverbial knee behind the corner she and Lapdance were using for cover to cool down her Smith and Wesson while Niki did the same at the opposite corner to insert a new connectivity tag into her Adas. Lapdance grunted as he pulled himself back behind the corner as well, his left hand going to his right shoulder.

Shit, the kid had got shot.

"BLUE-1, this is WHITE-Columbia." Collins called out as she stuck her Model 696 around the corner and gave the Droideka that the Marine had been firing at and put it out of their misery. "We've got half-a-dozen Droidekas trying to pressure us back and a couple of wounded." Sam could see that another four Droidekas were rolling down the corridor and heading for their position. That wasn't so good. She could feel the bite of a bullet in her lower left thigh when two of the roller droids had barreled through to flank and assault them, snapping her shields as she engaged both of them with her Mammothkiller. She had come out on top, but had gotten shot in the process. "We're going to need backup, and soon." She looked down to Lapdance, who was in the lower position of the corner to use for cover, his armored hand moving away from his shoulder to show the gauntlet of his Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor stained red with blood. _Shit, that might have clipped something important,_ Collins thought to herself as the Marine took a MediGel auto-injector from his MedPouch on his armor and proceeded to shoot himself with the anti-coagulant/anti-bacterial/volumizer/sealant gel at the site of the gunshot wound to minimize the bleeding, damage, and possible contamination. It was a battlefield dressing, not a cure, and he had gotten shot in his firing shoulder.

" _More are coming!"_ Raan spoke up as she rounded the corner to fire a tag at another Droideka, the shields hardly stopping the too-slow connectivity tag as the Quarian Rifleman went back into cover before pulling the trigger, the electrostatic discharge bolt of electricity rounding the corner and electrocuting the mechanoid until its power cell detonated and turned the multi-limbed machine into a bloom of scrap metal, shrapnel cascading up and down the corridor. Collins took the advantage of the detonation by firing at two of the roller droids in quick succession, their shields down from the explosion and her round penetrating their chassis. Three more down… and now they had seven to deal with.

" _I can still fight!"_ Lapdance insisted with a strained voice through his armors' vox, slipping his Karseus into his left hand for off-hand firing. Most people weren't very ambidextrous, and accuracy and motion usually took a hit whenever someone went southpaw. Still, he could put rounds down range and the Droidekas were only a dozen or so meters away in a hallway. Not exactly long-distance firing requirements. _"This is going to hurt like a bitch."_ The Marine coined as he tactically rounded the corner in a crouched position to fire upon the Droidekas, exposing more of his body to do so than he normally would have if he had been firing with his right hand. Lapdance sent a sustained burst of fire down at one of the droids only to fall back into cover as he was engaged heavily by the security drones. With seven of them present and ready to fire, trying to eliminate them even one at a time was going to be near impossible with no less than fourteen assault rifle-like armature weapons aiming at them. _"Marse? I've got a few grenades in my pack, but I can't throw for shit right now."_

"Got it." Sam understood quickly the plan the Rifleman was suggesting as she reached down and grabbed an M68 All-Purpose Explosive Disc Device, the puck-like grenade fitting easily into her right hand. She lobbed it right into the middle of the Droidekas and pulled back around the corner to draw bother her Smith and Wesson Model 696 and her Springfield Arms XD Seven-Five Pistol, her hands filled with guns as she heard the grenade explode. Both herself and Private First Class Hoss rounded the corner and began firing at the same time Niki did the same at the opposite corner. Collins fired both of her pistols at two of the staggered Droidekas, using all twelve shots of her Seven-Five on one and all six from her Mammothkiller on another at the same time. Both went down hard, their shields weakened and their bodies damaged by the grenade. Unfortunately, the robotic creations didn't feel fear at the sight or knowledge of a grenade and had kept engaging when TEAM WHITE took the offensive. Sam cried out in pain as she felt three separate explosions of hot pain bloom in her right forearm, her right shoulder, and deep into her lower right torso, radiating somewhere in between her ribs and her hip. Her Springfield was knocked from her hand as the Marshal fell back gasping in pain, her left hand immediately going to the agony that seemed to be somewhere around her right kidney, her knees going weak as she leaned against the wall she was using for cover, unable to support her own weight. She felt weak and lightheaded as her armor scraped against the wall as she slid down, her limbs trembling as she looked over to Lapdance.

He was lying on the ground, half out of cover, a growing pool of blood under him.

Sam gritted her teeth as she reached over with her left hand and grabbed at the so-called 'carrying handle' at the back of Hoss's gorget on his armor and cried out in pain as she wrenched him back into cover, fiery agony coursing her body as she yanked the Marine back into safety. Despite the environmentals of her SPECTRE Armor, Sam was feeling too damn hot as sweat poured down her face, her gunshot wounds feeling as if someone had stuck a welding torch in each and every one of them. The corridor swam in her vision as she sat on the deck with her back against a bulkhead, breathing heavily as darkness stalked the edges of her vision. _No… no, no, no…_ Collins thought as she looked over to the other side of her cover, seeing the blue-suited figure of Niki'Raan looking over at her, her silvery eyes behind her blue-tinted visor wide as they looked at her. The darkness was coming over her like a blanket, impossible to fight back against something so encompassing, like a door slamming shut on her mind. _Not… now, motherfucker…_ Sam thought as she clenched her teeth.

"B-BLUE-1, need… medical assistance…" The Marshal called out on her SquadComm, unable to fight back the pain and panic in her voice, her body trembling too hard. "T-two d-down… f-five en… enem…" God, she felt so hot and cold at the same time, and oh so very tired. Just… a moment to catch her breath. "Ge… get… Niki…" The ground came to her with its comforting embrace, so inviting as Sam felt herself slipping away as she closed her eyes and let her heavy body rest, slumping to the metal deck of the station. Lying down… the pain dulled away as she heard something quiet in her ears, voices she couldn't understand, a panic she couldn't connect to as she opened her eyes and saw someone standing over her. Someone tall, in ultrablack armor with bloodred underpanelling configured for a Turian. Sam rolled on her back, looking up as the figure knelt beside her, the helmet coming off as she saw warm chocolate plates and bone-white colonial markings decorating the features she had ached to see again, and the sight made her smile as hot tears came from her eyes.

"N… N-Nihlus…", Sam said through numb lips, "…you're here…" She watched as her husband lower himself to her side, his talons sliding under her as he scooped her up in his arms. The weight of her heavy body seemed to disappear as he hoisted her up, her body feeling so light, some comforting in his arms. "I… I missed you, _fradu_. I missed you… every damn day." Being his arms, the ache in her heart eased as Sam looked upon the face of Nihlus Kryik, his Tridend Colony-marked plates and green ovaloid eyes looking at her as he held her. "I've been so damn _alone_ …"

"No longer, _fradu_." His said, his warm duel-tone voice comforting her as Sam rested her weary head against his armored shoulder, after so much heartache and pain in her heart, she finally found peace.

And Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins slowly slipped into the waves of darkness.

* * *

 **TEAM BLUE, "South Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

Corporal Jeanette Maria Sanchez Vasquez grunted as she felt rounds impacting against her Aegohr Munitions' Kestrel Heavy Combat Armor, the heavy duty shield batteries having been drained by the many impacts as she roared her Devlon Industries' M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun at several Colicoid Creations' Droideka roller mechs, the piss-ass Salarian security robots firing at her as she amped up her Marshal, increasing the voltage to deliver more force while overclocking her rounds per minute through the machine gun, doubling the amount of heat generated for only half-again as much force. Yet the four roller droids that stood in front of her were a real threat, and they had engaged the Marine Corporal as she threw herself out in the open in the corridor, putting as many rounds into each of the four-legged bots as she could to bring them down. She was merely the distraction, her shields and armor hopefully tough enough to take the punishment and dish it back out. There hadn't been enough time to make a plan or any kind of decent tactical assault, so Jean had stepped out and introduced herself as only a Marine could; with violence. There was no time to think, but to act, and that the Latina had in spades. The Droideka's practically melted under her withering fire as she obliterated each and every one of them in about ten seconds, keeping the attention on her while destroying the opposition. When the last one finally staggered and fell to the ground, the deck of the station littered with pieces of droid, Vasquez sniffed dismissively as she clicked the heat-dispensing action of her heat drums on her Marshal to ready it for another battle.

" _Adios? We found them."_

Vas looked up to see Detective Garrus Vakarian stalking the corridor with _Sha'me_ Niki'Raan bar Tombay right next to him, the Quarian Pilgrim clutching at her Adas ESD Rifle in her hands as if it were a lifeline, her silvery eyes a little wide and wild. The Quarian had come out of her cover from around the corner looking so much like a frightened child, someone that had been well over their head and pulled out of the brink. Jean could relate.

" _I… I… I did everything I-I could, but…"_ The Quarian female began, the guilt thick in her vox'ed voice as Jeanette saw 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko and Seaman Monica Negulesco disappear to the starboard side of the corridor. _"We were overwhelmed, and… it was all I could do to… to hold them off…"_ It was obvious that the Pilgrim was near tears.

" _El-tee? You take Lapdance, he's got a punctured abdominal wound."_ Doc Nugee instructed from one side. _"Vas? I need your help with Collins."_ Jean moved down to where Doc had disappeared to see two casualties on the floor, both Lapdance and Collins down and bleeding all over the floor. _Jesus Cristo_ , they both looked shot to shit.

"What do you need me to do, Doc?"

There was a small break as Doc's helmeted head looked up from Sam and to her.

" _You're O-Positive."_

Blood. Marse was bleeding out bad.

 _Adios_ wasted no time pulling off the carrying harness of her M-56 Marshal Medium Machine Gun and placing both weapon and harness on the deck as she extended her left arm straight towards the Hospital Corpsman, exposing a portion of her combat undersuit that her high-impact ceramic ballistic armor didn't cover; the crook of her arm. The Latina practically thrusted her arm towards the Corpsman as Nugee pulled out of her Aid Bag a sterile abdominal compression bandage, tossing the package to Lieutenant Alenko before pulling out a stick catheter and connecting it to a plastic tube. Jean had her arm taken and stuck in a quick but professional manner as Doc Nugee slide the catheter into the crook of her arm before inserting the other side into Marshal Collins' neck… oh, her carotid artery. With a fresh supply of oxygenated blood, it would buy the Hospital Corpsman time to seal the gunshot wounds before attempting to revive the former Marshal of Therum, minutes that her brain would starve without oxygen and blood. Vas knew that one could tourniquet a limb for several hours without risk, but the brain was the most important part of the body. Vas was pretty certain the limit was eight minutes without oxygen and blood, but with her donating blood right into Sam, she had essentially become a living life-support system. Monica was already applying MediGel to the Marshals' gunshot wounds to seal them and stop the bleeding, prepping her for the time when surgical intervention could be accomplished, but for the moment giving her a chance to make it to the surgery table.

Doc sealed the wounds, and two minutes later was performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation on the Level Two Council Agent after removing her helmet and chestpiece.

"C'mon, Marse, you can do it. Pull through." Vas whispered as she moved above Sam's head, keeping it tilted back for Nugee for when she breathed for the Marshal as well as keeping a pair of fingers just below Collins' jawline to feel for a pulse. The Marine knew that Nugee was really just a young Corpsman who had chosen her profession based upon the woman who had saved her fathers' life; the Angel of Illyeria, Sara Elaine Ryder. But being a Navy Corpsman was nothing like being an EMT or Emergency Room nurse; they did the same job, but in a combat zone. It was their job to save those who served Mankind, and on TEAM LION, there was no greater example than those aboard the SSV _Normandy_. Sara and Monica were both Sailors who had elected that noble profession in a way that was far greater than even their normal contemporaries, providing medical aid and care to those who weren't even Human yet providing all the same. Heroes amongst heroes they were, and watching Monica working on Samantha like a professional should? Her movements swift and sure, neither rushed nor panic, but rote and precise? Chief Ryder might not have been here, but TEAM LION wasn't lacking in the medical department.

"Don't make her cry again, Marse." Vas whispered to the Marshal, holding her head and looking at her too-still face. "No Corpsman can stand losing a brother or sister. She's pushing herself hard to earn her spot, to be what we need her to be. Don't have her lose someone else." The _Latina_ Marine remembered well back on Feros when TEAM LION had assaulted the ExoGeni Headquarters, fighting through Geth and Husks. Jeanette had learned that Doc Nugee was an eighteen-year old Hospital Corpsman who was on her first ground deployment, having earned herself a slot working alongside the Lion of Elysium due to her dedication and efforts in the aftermath of the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros). Monica had spent hour after grueling hour caring and aiding Sailors medically without rest or complaint, seeing something like eight to nine dozen injured Sailors in the hours after the cataclysmic battle, and continuing well into the night. Sailors repaired ships after battles, and Corpsmen repaired people. This spunky little kid from Elysium had given her all in a time of need and had been recognized by the Angel of Illyeria, granting the colony kid what she wanted to be; the chance to be a Navy Corpsman. Vas knew how it worked, that there was always some HM8401 who pushed themselves at the head of the pack to earn their Fleet Marine Force Insignia, proving themselves as both Corpsmen and Marines. To do so, they had to earn their chops; work with a Marine unit and impress them with their dedication. And Marines weren't easy to impress. Nugee was a kid looking to earn her chops… and doing it in what was likely the toughest, deadliest, most versatile unit to have ever existed under a Terran banner. Doc Nugee had a hell of a uphill battle and learning curve considering the places TEAM LION went and the several non-Humans that served in it.

And within the very first day of her first ground deployment, Seaman Monica Negulesco proved herself, quite literally, five times over. The first was literally during boots hitting ground.

That… said a lot, that a first-time Navy puke touched dirt didn't break down and cry at the first sound of a sniffle or a gunshot? That a member of her team had taken a hit coming off the UT-47 Kodiak and that teams' assigned Hospital Corpsman immediately secured the casualty and brought them to cover what providing covering fire? Most first-timers in combat did about three things; froze, lost their shit (literally), or started shooting everywhere. Oh, every once in a while there was someone who kept it together, aimed in a generally correct direction and were actually useful. Most of the time people like that were former gangbangers like herself, or had been through a few hard knocks where a few gunshots or a two-way range wasn't exactly topping the 'worst thing ever' list. Nugee was, surprisingly, a semi-survivor of the Assault of Elysium, having been sequestered in her primary gymnasium during the attack, a ten or eleven year old kid huddled with other kids during a slave run. While she hadn't been ducking Slugs out on the streets, she had certainly had to sit and wait for several hours with the potential thought of being captured and enslaved; something Vas certainly never worried about.

But when a grenade in the ExoGeni HQ had hit both Private Oblong 'the Kenyan' Ubantu and Ensign Tali'Zorah nar Reyya, Doc Nugee had to make the choice no medic ever wanted to make but likely would; who would live and who would die. The same grenade that had peppered Tali's body with shrapnel, piercing her EnviroSuit and exposing her fragile body to the toxic-to-Quarians environment had shattered the Kenyan's Kassa Fabrications' Colossus Medium Engagement Armor chestpiece into his torso, sending pieces of ceramics and plastics into his chest, piercing it over a dozen times. _Adios_ had known at the first glance that the Marine Rifleman was a dead man with both of his lungs pierced, internal bleeding, and massive trauma. Yet Nugee had to work on Tali with the knowledge that Ubantu was going to die without any real medical intervention. The Marine had expired mere moments after the blast, his hand held by none other than Captain Jane Shepard as he passed away of his grievous wounds, Monica in tears as she worked on saving Tali's life at the act of triage.

Vasquez had held the young Corpsman when she broke down and cried after stabilizing the young Quarian Pilgrim, apologizing amongst bitter tears to Oblong.

The Marine watched a Nugee worked, having already sealed Collins' gunshot wounds and performing CPR, striving to save the Marshal's life. Vas didn't want to say that it looked like a lost cause, that the Butcher had been shot too many times and had died before TEAM BLUE had arrive a few minutes later. A Human could be brought back up to ten to fifteen minutes after expiring, but cranial decay began to occur about eight minutes after someone died depending on a bunch of different factors; sometimes more, sometimes less. Niki'Raan had done her best to hold off the Droidekas from overrunning TEAM WHITE's position, the Quarian Rifleman never giving in or retreating, staying with her squadmates despite being outnumbered and outgunned. But Monica wasn't going let something like that get in the way of the performance of her duties, showing the same dedication the Pilgrim had given to her teammates. If Marse had a chance in hell in coming out of this, it would be at the hands of Seaman Monica Negulesco.

Something caught the corner of Vas's eye, and she looked to see that, somehow, Captain Jane Catherine Shepard was standing there just a few short paces away, seeing what was going on. TEAM RED (minus Private Louis Broussard) had arrived with TEAM BROWN, amazing all in one piece of looking a little for the worse for wear. Ensign Tali'Zorah and Agent Zevin Raeka looked to be well, but Urdnot Wrex was walking as if injured and Private Nathaniel Balsach was holding his side. Doctor Liara T'soni and Sergeant First Class Ashley Williams were there as well, TEAM RED having come to TEAM BROWN's aid against whatever monstrosity they had faced while TEAM BLUE had gone for TEAM WHITE in their time of need. Between a mess of Salarian roller-droids and evidently some super mutant Krogan abomination, _Alexandria Station_ hadn't been their best of days. The Lion looked at the scene of the Hospital Corpsman working on the the Level Two Council Agent while a female Marine donated blood, while a Navy Lieutenant tended to a Marine Rifleman. While Jeanette couldn't see the N's face due to her banded helmet with its glowing visor, her posture (and just as a good guess) indicated that she wasn't pleased with the recent turn of events. That wasn't any real surprise.

A coughing noise returned Vasquez's attention below her as she saw the Marshal cough and stir, blue eyes fluttering open amongst pale skin.

"W-wha… where…?"

"You're okay, Marse." Jeanette said softly as Monica reached into her MedBag to pullout a CPNAP breathing apparatus, the Latina touching a button at the side of her gorget to collapse her helmet so that the Marshal could see her, if upside down from her point of view. Collins' eyes took a moment to focus as they blinked several times, going from Jeanette, to Monica, and then to Jane before returning to the Marine. Nugee had already slipped the breathing cup around Sam's face to aid in her breathing as the Corpsman readied a bag of fluids to help replace what she lost. "Doc's got you."

"N-Nihlus… was here…" The Marshal said weakly, coughing a little as her eyes went around again, searching as tears began to travel out of the corners of her eyes. "He… he was… holding me…" Vas didn't know what to say as she looked up to Negulesco, the Corpsman looking up to the Marine as well as she administered a bag of HexStend Plasma Volumizer to the Butcher of Torfan. She had seen some of her _homies_ and _cholos_ think they saw something at such times, a few having been brought back by emergency rooms believing they had seen a loved one in a time of need. Vas knew who Nihlus Kryik was though she didn't know much more than that he was a Turian SPECTRE and Sam's husband, killed on the fields of Eden Prime. For a grieving widow, even a short time of reunion such as that must have been a powerful thing.

"He was here when you needed him to be, _Marscal_." Vasquez replied softly, looking at the Butcher with her own dark eyes. "He made sure you wouldn't be alone, and you know he's waiting for you." Blue eyes studied her for a long moment as the color slowly returned to Sam's face, the breathing apparatus doing the breathing for her, slowly returning her to a normal if damaged state. "But we ain't giving up on you so easily, Marse. Otherwise I'll have to ask you to give my blood back."

"Perish the thought." Sam mumbled, blinking away the tears as a shaking hand went onto Jeans', grasping it weakly. "Thank you. Both of you. I'm…" The woman looked at Vas for a long moment.

"…not ready to go. Not yet."

* * *

 **TEAM RED, "South Spire", Alexandria Station, Herschel System, Kepler Verge, July 25, 2183**

"Okay, listen up folks," Captain Jane Shepard called out as she looked at the near entirety of TEAM LION in her presence, short only two members; Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Ryder on the SSV _Normandy_ performing surgery to save a Council Agent's live, and Private Louis Broussard in the M-35 MAKO who was currently engaging Droideka roller-droids. "As of now, we're down five personnel, with both of our Corpsmen tasked out and we still haven't seen hide or hair of Saelon or Harte or whoever the fuck this guy is. I've had enough of this house of horrors, and the kids' gloves are coming off. Ash, Kaiden?" The two looked at her. "You will provide evacuation to the casualty collection point, which will be the MAKO. Secure our casualties inside the APV and provide fire support on any and all threats that head your way. We've been hunting a guy who has had _years_ to prep for an action such as this, and we've been playing his Goddamn game. So I'm going to change the rules." The Level Three Council Agent looked at the remaining standing members of TEAM LION. She was about to go off the reservation, and she was going to need the best. "Vakarian, T'soni, and Zorah, we're going on a hunting party, but we're going to have some assistance. Vas?

"Please pull the SAM Node from Collins and give it to me."

Jannie queued up Cortana to have Bastila set for follow mode as she slipped the multi-box Artificial Intelligence node to her back, the Quantum Entanglement Device connecting with her HMWA MasterGear SPECTRE Mk. IV Armor's OS, getting a confirmation for a secured and successful handshake.

"SAM?"

 _[Yes, Captain?]_ , the AI asked, his tone indicating that he was ready. Shepard took a deep breath as she violated a Council Law.

"Enact protocol ' _Tali's Worst Nightmare'_. Link all dataflows and surveillance options to myself and Ensign Zorah." The redhead said outloud, her vox speaking her works to the team as well.

 _[Authorization password]_ , the AI asked, Jannie seeing helmeted heads glancing to one another, everyone quickly figuring out what was about to happen. It didn't take much of a stretch of an imagination what a Quarian's worst fear would be; a hostile takeover by a machine intelligence, especially while in a space-borne vessel or station.

" _Deus Ex Machina_." The SPECTRE replied with finality.

 _[Confirmed]_

And throughout the _Alexandria Station_ , the lighting went out as SAM began to assimilate the electronics of the station itself.

* * *

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, but I broke three metacarpals (that would be fancy words for hand bones) in my right (ie, dominant) hand. Really hard to type with a cast. As a side note, keep all limbs inside the vehicle at all times, and not in between the frame and the closing door.

The X1 was a Krogan Monstrosity created by Cerberus in a location called 'the Barn' in which Randall Ezno introduced himself to with tech, Bitoics, and gunfire. It had hellacious armor, shields, and life, and liked playing typewriter with the Cerberus protagonist. It was the 'Directors' oldest test subject, genetically and cybernetically modified, several times larger than a normal Krogan, with energy-weaponized gauntlets and integrated shield generator, with significant increase of muscle mass as well as the size of its arms. It was realistically one of the toughest fights of the whole series, somewhere akin to Tela Vasir, Kai Leng, and the Shadow Broker since you were facing this thing solo.

Strangely enough, I couldn't actually find a scientific term for 'side-set eyes' or 'forward-set eyes' that marks the distinction for land/avian animals that define predator and prey. Since 'periphery' means 'side-vision', Krogan have 'periphery-set' or 'laterally-set' eyes to make the eyes set on the side of their heads. For forward-set eyes, we have binocular/stereoscopic, so thus we would have 'stereoscopic-set' (meaning wide view) or 'anterior-set' (meaning upper/forward).

I gave Tali a Spiderman moment from the _Avengers: Infinity War_ movie. Considering she's a teenaged badass, it fits.

Yes, I used the Whisper Shout/Thu'um from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

"We invented the Geth by accident. Watch what we can do on purpose!" - I think I got this line from "Glorious Shotgun Princess" when Tali nukes the Shadow Broker with his own shield-charging device and turns him into a Yahg-shaped puddle.

Yep, Ash stole a scene from _Terminator 2: Judgment Day_ when Der Ahr-nold 'hacked' through a door with a M-79 Grenade Launcher when Morton failed to do so. Is there anything a 40mm can't do besides make popcorn?

Added the 'Oxygen Recharging Stations' from _Dead Space_ (another EA game) as something like this in a space facility would likely be a much-needed investment and necessity.

Things aren't looking so good for our intrepid heroes, are they?

Someone (which I could remember who) asked about SAM's level of involvement. While he isn't exactly like the SAM of Andromeda, he does have the capabilities of the SAM Kernal from Andromeda: Initiation in which Cora Harper was tasked with the retrieval of a hostile SAM unit.


End file.
